#yeah he’s on cocaine in most of them but!!! he’s smiling!!!!!!

[spooksicl-e]

little granada!holmes drawing i did as a request over on insta:]

[kafkasmuses]

innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

[babygorewhore]

Unholy Contrition

Rafe Cameron immediately wrote you off as some Bible thumping prude. And when his father died and left the entire fortune to him, he absentmindedly chose your father, A preacher, to speak at the funeral. But he catches something about you that reminds him of his favorite Porn Star. And he decides he’s going to corrupt you. What he doesn’t know is…you’re not as innocent as you act.

Okay guys the horny demon got me and I once again had to write about cocaine daddy because I’m addicted to him. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this and beta reading. I love you dolly.

Word count 5K!

Moodboard

Warnings! Talk of religion (duh) reader is a porn star, masks, masterbation, slight cat and mouse, choking, degrading, oral, unprotected sex! Virgin reader! Daddy kink! Kinda perv reader tbh but same. Slight breeding kink. And barely proof read I apologize.

Disclaimer: female in photos just for aesthetic purposes!!

When Rafe first saw her, it was at the annual outdoor movie where the pouges and Kooks got together. The pouges served food and drinks while he and his family sat comfortably in the front row. Topper, Kelce and himself watched JJ and Pope after their encounter. He thought they knew better than to fuck around with him and his friends. But he’d have to teach them. Burn it into their brains.

He was Rafe fucking Cameron. And they would learn their god damn place.

“Watch them.” He told Kelce and he got up. Kiera was getting a drink and this was an opportunity to assert his intent.

“Tell your boy, we know what he did.” His warning did nothing to sway her loyalty as she walked away. He smirked and then it fell when a girl was walking up to the line. It was the Preachers daughter.

He towered over her like most people but what caught his attention was the high neck shirt, covered thighs and worse. A cross on her neck and a wrap around cross bracelet around her hand. Her hair was in pig tail braids. She had doe eyes and bitten pink lips.

And she was carrying a fucking Bible. Which was a shame. She was pretty. Beautiful even. But he hated the church.

“Excuse me,” She whispered and moved past him. He had an urge to snatch it out of her hands and throw it. But he had more important things to do.

“Yeah; go ahead Jesus freak.” He hissed, bending down to say it to her ear. Her eyes widened and her brows pulled together.

“I-“

But he walked off. He wasn’t going to waste him time when he had two pouges asses to kick.

Your dad gave funeral talks all the time but now you were weirdly excited to go. Not that you were excited about Ward’s death but more about who’s attending. Rafe Cameron would be there and you actually thanked god for it. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own belief system but the entire restriction? Fuck no.

But for the sake of your poor older father, you kept up the good girl facade. It was easy really. Keep everything simple, light pastel clothes while hiding what was underneath. Your nickname was Kitty from the cat ear beanie you had since you were a teenager. But your dad had a variety of nicknames for you.

All of them were gentle. Pure.

You adjusted your white lace turtleneck before your hands settled on your ankle length pink skirt. The very sight was way out of your true style but it would do for the service. Your white socks and black Mary Jane’s. Your cross bracelet, and necklace was a little overkill.

But no one knew how you used the cross in secret on your only fans.

The black thong you were wearing was already growing wet as you stood next to your father waiting for him to arrive. He greeted everyone with a handshake. Your eyes drifted over the crowd, mascara thick on your lashes as you subtly rose to your tiptoes. Damn, was he late to his own fathers funeral?

“Kitty, look who it is. Hello, Sarah.” You forced yourself to smile. She was crying with Topper on her arm. Apparently she and John B, Rafes arch nemesis, had broken up. For now anyway.

“Hi, Sarah, I’m so sorry…” You gave her a genuine hug and she squeezed tightly.

“Thank you, kitty.” She sniffed.

“Mr. Cameron, now that you’re here-“ You tried your best not to snap your head too directly in his direction but you slowly turned your head.

Rafe was wearing a suit and his hair was slicked back out of his eyes. Different than he had been running around a few weeks prior before he inherited the entire fortune.

He seemed…more unhinged. Something in his eyes flashed when he saw you, drank you in like a man after a day in heat. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you rolled your ankles, trying to seem smaller. More vulnerable. “Hi…Mr. Cameron. I’m so sorry for your loss…” You murmured.

His strong hand engulfed yours, his fingers long, covered in gold rings and warm. You looked into his blue eyes, shining on you and he said. “It’s still Rafe, little bunny.”

The nickname made you want to cum in your panties but you ducked your head with a blush. But you couldn’t blame him with your modest clothes and makeup. He returned to speaking with your father and you tried to keep your glances to a minimum. He was going to work for it.

The service was simple. Outdoors and you stood next to your father. You held a small Bible that was gifted to you in middle school as your cross dangled from in between your fingers. Rafe was staring at you. You could feel it but you wouldn’t give him the chance to meet your gaze yet.

You had a lollipop in your pocket. One you took out of your collection as you left your house. You always sucked on something. Your cross. Your dad wouldn’t think twice as you subtly unwrapped the paper and slowly licked a circle around the candy. Your tongue was lewd as you then pressed it passed your swollen lips.

You took another measure by your pointer and thumb pushing it back and forth and then you stuck it further…until it hit the back of your throat. Playing dumb, you gasped quietly and coughed. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, lipstick slightly staining. You then took an opportunity to look at Rafe.

His jaw was tight and he was biting his lower lip. Blue eyes were darkening as he inhaled the process of your action. His chest moved up and down rapidly. You wanted him to know you were baiting him. But you also wanted to fuck with his mind. So you did the most reasonable thing your thoughts came up with.

You gave him a small wink.

After the funeral, he was out of your sight. But you took the extra step by linking your second account on your instagram story. You knew he would watch it.

Your obsession with Rafe Cameron started in high school. He was a few months older so he graduated sooner. But when you first saw him, hanging around other girls and guys at the private school. Disobeying rules but having enough family power to ignore them. Turned you on. His rebellion was something you craved. Your attraction only grew when you saw him one day yank a girl into a closet and you heard how good he made her feel. Granted, you hid right outside the door. You wanted to be her.

You want him to throw you around. Use you. Take you like you were only made to be his little toy. Your fantasies only grew when you followed him on social media, he was public so you had fast access.

What he didn’t know was that you used your second account. Where you wore your sluttiest clothes without showing your face. You posted stories about sexual thoughts, songs and thirst traps of your body. And he commented on every single one.

“Fuck, I wanna see your pretty face.”

“I want to fuck you. Fuck your throat. Watch you leak with my cum.”

It was an endless amount of fun. You knew he wanted you. He just didn’t know you were both versions yet. And each response you gave him, ended with a wink.

“Kitty, you look tired. Do you want to head home?” Your father asked. You nodded sheepishly. Finally, you could get home and post more on only fans. You knew he would watch as well.

“Thank you, dad. I’ll see you later.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and started to the car.

It wasn’t an accident you parked across from him and you saw him walking in the direction. You dipped your hand into your pocket, acting like you were searching for your keys as you dropped a thin fabric on the ground. Quickly, before he could approach you, as you heard his shoes you got into the driver's seat.

Playing dumb was simply picking and choosing when you showed innocence. As you drove away, your plan cemented and you bit your lip.

Getting home and settling into your bed, you wore the lingerie Rafe always requested. Normally you charged him more, but you’d give him a treat today. You pulled out your rabbit, spitting on it and slathering it with lube. You barely needed any on your pussy as you set your phone exactly where it showed the best angle.

You wore the cross on your bracelet as you traced your clit with it. A lot of girls did this but Rafe would consider that it’s yours. Maybe he wouldn’t. The doubt would drive him crazy. Just like he drove you crazy.

He was infamous for snorting coke at parties you were never invited to and you imagined smearing it across his gums before licking them. Or his strong fingers holding you down as he did a line on your body. What you wanted most? Being pinned down as he spat on your mouth and slapped your pussy. These thoughts drove you to easily slip two fingers inside as you grind onto your hand.

“Fuck me, daddy. I need you.” You whined. You wish he was here. You wish it was his hand instead of yours.

You tried to hold back, usually taking longer for a video but you came extremely quickly. As you laid there, sweaty and still needy. You glanced at the notifications. They were repeated. Sliding on your side, exposing your bare ass, you picked up your kitten mask and read the messages.

They were all from Rafe.

He was sending money. “Please, let me see that fuckable face. I’m begging you, kitten. I need it. I need to fuck that soaking pussy. Daddy needs you.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from chuckling.

Normally, you just winked. But this time, your fingers swiped and you replied.

“Work for it, daddy.”

Rafe couldn’t get the image out of his head of you sucking the lollipop out of his fucked up head. You were the preacher's daughter for god's sake. Someone he teased for being some sort of Bible thumper and she probably didn’t even know what kinky meant. But…god she was pretty. The way she innocently batted her eyelashes at him like a bunny. That was what stuck out to him. A little bunny rabbit.

And then she winked at him. It felt so pointed. Purposeful. She also dropped a black damp thong on her way to her car. Rafe snatched it up before anyone could ever see it and he half scoffed and moaned. A creamy stain that was recent. Either she secretly touched herself or she was so wet that it soaked through and ran down her pretty legs.

The last words of the mystery girl on Only fans, who was his favorite porn star, gave him more than a wink this time. Work for it, daddy.

It made him cum all over his hand again just from her words so he couldn’t even imagine her pussy. But the doubt. The doubt was there. But she was-he clenched his fist. It was during the day and he had a second to breathe in between meetings.

Rafe typed her name on instagram.

As he suspected, it was mostly scenery shots, half faced selfies and photos with your father. A few of them you were smiling, apparently whoever took the photo made you laugh when you were at the beach. He almost swiped to another photo when he narrowed his eyes.

It was very small. He almost missed it but there was a small…handprint? Right below your swimsuit above your thigh. It had to be your hand, given the size but his mind drifted to a particular video where mystery girl spanked herself to his request. Was he being paranoid? He looked at another photo, a flashback to your graduation where John B took you to prom. And he felt at twitch in his jaw. But not before another detail caught his attention.

Underneath your bracelet. Left wrist. He saw a black mark. Not a mark, he zoomed in, careful not to like the picture.

It was a tattoo.

He couldn’t see what it was but his eyes widened. Mystery girl also had a tattoo there.

But you couldn’t possibly have one. Not the preachers daughter. Weren’t they forbidden or some shit? It was starting to drive him insane when his alarm went off.

“Fuck.” He muttered to himself and clicked the button. Turning his screen black. It couldn’t be you. Not this innocent girl who called him Mr. Cameron. But what if it was? He’d have to find out for himself. Anyway he needed to.

And here he was. At fucking church. He couldn’t remember a time he was here other than his dads funeral. Your dad was on the stage, flipping through a book he assumed was the Bible when he looked up.

“Mr. Cameron. What a pleasant surprise. Kitty, guess who’s here!”

He tried to keep his expression neutral as you came from a door on the left side. You wore a long light colored dress right above your ankle with the same shoes as the funeral. Your hair was in two braids with a kitten beanie, in this weather? And you still wore your two crosses.

But you were so pretty. Prettier than last time if it was possible. You gave him a small smile, ducking your head. “Hi, Mr. Cameron.”

He neared you both, trying to think of a way to subtly touch you without catching the attention of your father.

“Rafe. Um. I just wanted to stop by. Say thanks for the service. It-helped. Especially with Sarah. She’s all emotional and shit.” He quickly glanced at your dad. “Sorry.”

“No need. Freedom of speech is a gift. But you don’t need to thank me. It was Kitty who told me about him as well. So I could make it personalized.”

Rafe swore your eyes flashed. Just for a second. So he pushed. “You did? You friends with Sarah or something?”

You twirled your hair, apparently sucking on some sort of candy. When you opened your mouth, your tongue was red. “Yeah! We talk sometimes. I just wanted to help, you know?” You started sniffing. “I can’t imagine losing my dad.”

“Oh, honey…”

Rafe cleared his throat. Desperate to get you alone. “Hey-can I talk to you? Just for a minute, I wanted to ask you something.” He eyed you carefully and you nodded. Your dad didn’t seem suspicious. Which made his doubt increase.

Maybe the wink was a fluke. A nervous habit? Or maybe you did that to everyone.

You both stepped away, slowly walking down the aisle. He felt uncomfortable, wearing a suit when he wanted to feel loose. It was too constricting. You played the cross on your bracelet. He raked his brain for something or someway to look at your arm. He had to prove that you didn’t have a tattoo and he was just crazy.

“So, what did I want to talk about?” You prompt him and he clears his throat.

“I’m-“ Oh, no. What could he possibly say? “I’m trying to be more spiritual. You know, with my dad dead. I just want to have hope, you know? That I’ll see him again someday. I would ask your dad but you know. You’re more my age-“

“Oh, Rafe. You don’t have to explain yourself. Do you want me to help you? I can just…go over scriptures with you. Meet with you here. Doesn’t have to be complicated.” The way you said his name made him feel insane.

You had a tilt to your voice. The way you said the word. You didn’t sound like a little mouse for an instant. You sounded-confident. And then it quickly disappeared as your eyes flicked away. “Only if you want, I mean if you don’t, I understand-“

“No, I’d love that. And I also wanted to apologize for what I said. A while back.” This was the most awkward conversation he’d ever had in his life. You started twirling the end of your hair with a painted fingernail.

He squinted, trying to see any sort of ink. Nothing. He was right. And now he was stuck with some sort of scripture offer. “I-“ and then you stretched.

Your arms over your head and he didn’t know where not to look. Your tits were lifted, your neck exposed and then he saw your sleeve lift.

It was a black butterfly tattoo. It was medium sized. Pretty. And then he saw a few more peeking on yiur skin. Mystery girl had the same tattoo but it looked like you had more. Rafe snatched an opportunity.

“I like your tattoo.” He complimented. Hoping to get some sort of answer.

“Oh, thank you. The first one is from a while ago but the rest are new. Dad doesn’t approve but I promised to keep them covered up.” The candy you were sucking on. You rolled it around in your mouth and Rafe was bouncing with some sort of frazzled energy.

“What do you do? Outside of church?”

“I make jewelry. My own business. Sarah actually bought a few things. It’s obviously not Cameron level but I do pretty well.” A blush reddened your cheeks. Jewelry making? Damn. He didn’t have a fucking clue. But why did you wink?

He was going to lose his mind.

“That’s cool. I’ll have to-“He checked the time. He stopped here before going to the building for work.

“I have to get going. But I’m glad we talked. And I’m sorry again.”

“It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. Besides, I was still in high school and I was a little awkward.” You giggled behind a hand. Your smile was adorable and he had an urge to cup your face.

What was he doing? What was this end goal?

“Yeah, me too. Um-“

“Here,” You brought out your phone and opened the number key. “Just put your number in here and I’ll let you know when we can get started if you still want to!” She chirped as he quickly typed in his number.

Her phone in his hand was so small and he felt a twitch in his crotch. Her camera roll. It could be so easy. Just a Quick Look. Just to see. Just to be sure. But to his surprise, you took it back before he had a chance.

“It was nice to see you,” You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah! You too.” He said quietly and watched you walk away. His mind was even more fucked.

Who were you? Or who was the mystery girl? For once in his life, he did consider praying for an answer.

Getting more tattoos at the same time he showed up at church wasn’t planned but it worked out exactly to your favor as you shut your room door with your hip and set your bag down. But you saw the wheels turning in his head. He was taking the bait and you smirked. This was almost too easy. Trapping him. But he was so desperate.

You needed to spark something in him, either get him to ask directly or get him to cave.

Adjusting your hair in your car mirror, you scanned your white dress for any stains. The small flowers decorating the fabric and your cross on your body. But this time you wore a pair of boots that your father nearly had a heart attack with. They were completely different than you normally wore. But you needed more proof that you were his favorite little bunny.

The church loitered with a few people, as they normally did after a Sunday service. Your knee bounced as you waited for Rafe as you sat in the front. You had a few scriptures in mind, ones to stir him and you knew he’d never imagine were in the Bible.

“Sorry, I kept you waiting.” His raspy voice caught you by the surprise but you slowly turned and looked up at him.

Rafe wasn’t in his suit today, instead his casual clothes but there was nothing casual about the way he was staring at you. His eyes were on fire. Full of desire and confusion.

“Oh! That’s okay, Rafe! I wasn’t waiting long! Please sit,” you scooted over and he seated next to you. His knee against yours. You didn’t move it.

“So, you want to hear a few scriptures, or I can pray for you, which would you prefer?” You spread your legs a little and Rafe swallowed. His jaw clenched.

“Uh-I-i don’t think I’ve ever prayed before. So the Bible is fine. I just want to make peace, you know. With my dad. But I have another problem.” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s someone I really want. And I know it’s…against the lord of whatever. And I need some help. What should l do? How do I resist it like you?” His question hung in the air and your chest tightened. You were so tempted to tell him but that’s not what you wanted.

“Well. I just listen to what the Bible says about that. It keeps me strong. What it says is clear.” You nodded. You opened the book on your lap, “1st John 1:9 ‘if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness’” you looked at him.

“So, if you confess, God will help you.”

Rafe bit his lip and leaned in closer. “This girl. She’s a fucking porn star,” he growls. “And she wears a little kitten mask and she fucks herself all nice and obedient for me. But the problem is she teases me like a brat. She never shows her face even though I give her more money than she’s ever seen. She’s her fathers only child but she calls me daddy. And had the nerve to tell me to work for it. She fucks her cross on her pussy when she knows damn well I could do it better. But she hides. Hides behind this little innocent act with the holy Bible and looks at me with eyes that make me want to rob every single innocence away from her and expose her for the whore she is. And baby, I think it’s you.”

Your core was dripping on the bench. You were almost shaking with want and you almost had to look away from him. You felt exposed. He did figure it out. You weren’t quite prepared as you thought with his reaction. Despite your activity behind your close door, you hadn’t fucked anyone all the way. Making out with friends at sleepovers was as far as you got in real life. Your obsession with Rafe made you wait. You always knew he’d be yours. And you made it happen.

“I-“ he held a finger against your lips, cutting you off.

“No, no, no, see you’ve fucked around with me a little too long, little girl. Now, I get to show you exactly how big of a mistake that was. So, you’re going to go home and think long and hard about what’s going to happen next. For once, I think your God isn’t going to protect you from me.” Rafe pulled away and stood.

“How does it feel to be left high and dry? And by the way, nice tattoos.” And then he winked at you.

You gasped as he walked away.

Your thighs were growing damp from the leaking arousal and you were breathing heavily. Holy shit. It worked. You bit your lip as you pulled out your phone.

He had texted you. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

When you got home, your dad was out. He was gathering his sermon scriptures and then to spend time with his small circle of friends. You told him you didn’t feel well enough to go. Your mask was secure on your face as you took photos in your bra and panties.

You planned on making more content but it was getting harder because you wanted Rafe so badly. You wanted him to fuck the brat right out of you, making all your dreams come true from his earlier talk. Pouting, you started going through tik tok, laying on your stomach. But then a noise caught your attention. Sitting up, you went to grab your robe when your door was bashed open.

Eyes wide, you see Rafe walk towards you, with a sadistic smirk on his face. He tilted his head, trailing his blue irises over your body, your naked knees pressing together.

“Hey kitty.” He said, stalking towards you. Rafe kneeled on your bed before grabbing your ankles. You shrieked as he dragged you towards him and loomed over you. “The mask was a really nice touch, baby.” Rafe glanced at the cross on your neck after he tore off your mask and threw it. He pulled it, tugging you up.

His breath hit your mouth. “You want to be my slut? All those fucking videos for me. Making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. You’re gonna regret it. Open your fucking mouth.”

You immediately obeyed and Rafe spit inside. He grabbed your jaw and closed it.

“What’s wrong? What happened to that little brat? Aw, she’s done isn’t she? Fuck, and I haven’t even done anything.” He tapped your cheek harshly. You felt his silver rings against your skin.

You were trembling but you grabbed his face and smashed your lips together. You tried sitting up but Rafe would have nothing less than submission as he pinned your hands above your head and dominated his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with brutal force and you almost came just from that. All these years and it was better than you could have ever imagined.

He ripped away and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Tell me you’re going to be good.”

Your air was cutting off and you nodded rapidly. “I’ll be good.”

“Say I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry for making me have to search for answers. And finally break into your fucking house.” Rafe snarled and tightened his grip. You could feel him hardened above you.

He shoved his hand inside your underwear, grazing your soaking pussy. His two fingers rubbed your clit but with too light pressure. Your eyes rolled back as your stomach tightened.

“You’re so pathetic. Gonna cum and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? A little whore but you’ve never done this with anyone but your own tiny fingers.” Rafe lent down and hovered over your mouth that was parted.

He pulled his hand away and you whined. “No, please, I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry for doing all this-“

“I’m sorry daddy,” Rafe mocked you, his fingers shoving inside your greedy entrance. “I’m sorry daddy that I’m a dripping whore and I need the Bible to get you to fuck me.” He started chuckling as you grew noisier. “Come on, you can do better than that.”

“I’m-“ He stopped and you almost screamed. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m a stupid dripping whore but I want you so bad. You can do whatever you want to me. I’ll take anything but please stop teasing-“

Rafe broke then, his hand removed from your neck and you sucked in air. His mouth slammed against yours as he ripped your underwear off, and fumbled with his belt. He slid down, kneeling on the floor as he spread your legs. Your glistening cunt made his eyes darken. “You’re so fucking wet for this.”

His tongue lapped at your clit, circling it around the bud before he licked the underside with pressure. You mewled and clawed the bed as he devoured you. Rafe’s tongue slipped inside you with ease as you clenched. You were so close it was painful. But he was relentless. Slowing when you were just about to reach your peak.

“Daddy, please make me cum.” You cried out, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m sorry, but please daddy.”

Rafe stopped and yanked off his pants and boxers. His heavy leaking dick was bigger than you thought as he wasted no time running it down your pussy. “This may hurt a little,” He warned before slamming in. “But you can fucking take it.”

Your nails clawed his back as he thrusted again. You moaned so loudly it surprised you but he met you in volume. “Fuck, daddy!” You said against his ear.

“Are you going to behave?” Rafe grunted as he crudely started massaging your clit. “Are you going to behave from now on?”

Your vision went white as your stomach tightened, “yes I promise,” You whispered before your pleasure exploded.

Rafe did too, his movements stalled as you felt him empty inside you, and your damp forehead rested against his.

“Maybe I fucked a baby in you, kitten.” Rafe sneered with a fucked out look. He was still inside you. “Looks like you corrupted me to your religion.” He smirked before pulling out.

“So…” You cleared your throat and looked at him with a small amount of vulnerability. “What does this mean? Is this it?”

Rafe inhaled and his fingers went to grip your jaw. His powerful face above you sent chills down your naked spine. “If you think you’re anything else but mine, then you’re a dumb little bunny. No one will ever touch you but me. Be with you but me. And besides,” He grinned wickedly. “Your dad already likes me.”

Tagging

@imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow

[princessbrunette]

introducing… lord rafe! 🎀

comes with his very own gun and cocaine! pretty girls sold separately . ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

things were different since rafe took the reigns to tannyhill. you hadn’t seen anything like it in real life, only in tv shows and movies. the party house of kildare. a house where rafe was a god and everyone else bowed down. you were the fresh meat, just a girl who got swept up in it all when things began. the older more experienced kook girls had befriended you with a perverted and deranged look in their eye, promising you elite access to tannyhill and rafe’s seemingly endless bank account. you had nowhere else to go, you couldn’t say no.

it had all but progressed into near worship over the few weeks you were staying there. it was a blur of parties by night, and days spent in little to no clothes curled up to the eldest cameron’s side in a pile of other women that massaged him and pet you like a baby kitten. you’d smushed your cheek into his side, still drunk as the sun came up on his porch and asked if he was the king of the castle.

“more like lord of the manor type of shit, you know?” he’d smirked, peering down at you with his sunglasses still perched on his nose. it was from that day it began, all the girls — including yourself addressing rafe as the lord.

���yes, lord.” “yes, my lord.” “anything you want, lord cameron.” the other girls would pur — swanning around him like you were his playboy bunnies, but at the end of each day, if you weren’t his arm candy at a party it would be you speared on his cock — surrounded by the other girls. like mentioned, you were fresh meat. the other girls were happy to be accessories, walking around in bikinis to make the house look good but you — you were his star of the show. his favourite.

he lays against the pillows, sighing out shakily as you sink down on him. maybe the slight tremble was from the line of coke he’d done off your tits, maybe he’d just been craving the hot warm clamp of your cunt. a handful of girls — maybe 6 or 7, surround the two of you on the bed, like watching prey get devoured by its predator. moaning though no one touched them, sliding their hands over you and guiding your hips to ride him. the most established of the bunch appears at your ear, staring down at the way your cunt swallows him and whispers to you “thats it. keep pleasing him. you’re so perfect.” you couldn’t tell if they all wanted what you had, they didn’t show it, nor did they act out in jealousy — it was like it had been an elaborate plan to steal you into their clan all along.

people talked, and maybe you’d been a little reckless — rafe often choosing his moments to fuck you with the balcony doors wide open, giving anyone who passes by a direct view into the master bedroom where he takes you apart. you’d become desensitised, no stranger to asking ‘daddy’ to put a baby in you as other girls wandered in and out the room, sometimes staying to watch the show. it wasn’t often people dared to make commentary on the things they’d heard about the goings-on at tannyhill however — not wanting to lose access to the best parties on the island.

you still remember the way that drunk guy approached you all on the porch towards the end of the night at a party, interrupting rafe in the middle of his elaborate stories with you tucked up to his side, surrounded by some friends and the rest of the usual women.

“awesome party rafe. you gotta let me in on your secret.” he stumbles, and rafe’s eyes flutter in irritation at the interruption.

“yeah, no secret man. just a good place with good people.” he drawls, uncharacteristically humble before going on to continue with his story.

“i gotta ask though, is this some fucked up cult? i heard some crazy shit, bro. its a little weird, you know?” he continues on anyway, and you watch rafe stiffen, smiling disappearing into a tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

he pushes up slowly and you slide off his shoulder where you’d been resting, watching the man slowly wander towards the guy as he scratches at his cheek in thought.

you see him untuck something from his waistband as he approaches, and you don’t quite catch what it is — but as rafe looms over the stranger, pressing whatever it is to his lower abdomen and speaking in his ear, you’re guessing from the look on the guys face that it’s a gun.

“get the hell off my property and don’t come around here asking dumb shit again, a’ight?” he drawls out in a fairly quiet tone, but the atmosphere had fallen silent enough to hear a pin drop. the guy scurried away, never to be seen again — rafe saw to that.

you had never felt the urge to challenge rafe cameron, but now you were certain you’d stay submissive to him forever.

[feyhunter78]

Split Lips and Busted Knuckles - Nerd!Miguel

Description: A chance meeting with Miguel's half-brother Kron leads to you seeing a different side of Miguel.

Nerd!Miguel masterlist here!!

Seriously you hate men, maybe not all of them, obviously not Miguel, but a lot if not most of them, and you really fucking hate Kron. Tall, blond, an extremely punchable face and an attitude that screamed “I waste my daddy’s money on cocaine.” He was a complete and utter rich asshole. One who seemed to be intent on talking to you.

You had a Mid-18th Century History class together, and he always tried to catch you after class. Luckily, you had a few sisters in your class as well, and you could hide within the pack to avoid him. Then he tried to catch you before class, but your professor called you over, safe again. But now here in the courtyard, an open space filled with frat boys you stupidly decided to wander through on your way to meet Miguel, there was nowhere to hide.

“Y/N, hey y/n, wait up.” Kron calls, waving wildly to get your attention.

You stop and press your lips together, before putting on a fake smile. He was the social chair for KA, and you know some of your sisters have been dying to be invited to their parties. “Hey Kron, what’s up?”

He gives you a smile, one that you think is supposed to be friendly, even nonthreatening, but it gives you the creeps. “Not much, just wanted to ask you about something I heard from a few people.”

“Oh?” You rack your brain trying to come up with some semblance of an idea about what he’s talking about but come up empty.

“Yeah, I heard you’ve been hanging out with my brother.” He says, his blue eyes hold you fast, like a butterfly pinned to a board.

“Your brother? I didn’t know you had a brother.” You say, brow furrowing as you try to remember meeting someone who looks like Kron but isn’t actually Kron.

“Well, he’s my half-brother, my dad is the ultimate stud, so you know, things happen and then Miguel just showed up.” He explains, not even seeming fazed or upset that his dad had an affair.

You blink owlishly, his words echoing in your brain as you try to put two and two together. “Miguel, as is Miguel O’Hara?”

He nods, “that’s the one, weird ass nerd, he refused to join KA with me, even though I told him that’s the only way he’ll make friends.”

“He’s not weird.” You bristle, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kron holds up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, chill, I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, okay, so I’ve been hanging out with him, who cares?” You glance at your watch; you’re going to be late.

There’s a very real and slightly concerning pain in your chest at the thought of Miguel sitting alone in the student center, waiting for you like a lost puppy, thinking you abandoned him.

Kron rests a hand on your shoulder, and you fight the urge to shrug it off. “Look Miguel, he’s my half-brother and yeah, he’s fucking annoying, and a try-hard, but he’s a nice guy, too nice. Don’t waste your time with him, it’s social suicide. He’s a nobody, a fucking loser who cares more about Legos and fucking science or whatever than getting laid.”

“I really don’t care about social suicide, but thanks, I think I can make my own decisions.” You tell Kron, giving him that same, perfectly crafted customer service smile.

“Y/N, you don’t get it, I’m trying to help you. He’s a loser, back in high school, no girls gave him a chance, he’s a total virgin okay, and you need a real man.”

And there it is, the real reason Kron doesn’t want you hanging with Miguel.

“A real man, huh? Well, you know what Kron, why don’t you let me know when you’ve found one and then get back to me.” You pat his hand that’s still on your shoulder.

His face goes red, then the color drains and his eyes harden. “I’m trying to help you, bitch.”

“Appreciate it, don’t need it, thanks though.” You walk off, head held high, hands shaking in anger as you shove them in your jacket pockets.

Miguel is sitting at your normal table, the one tucked in the corner secluded and shaded by large hedges, his head in a book, his glasses slipping down his nose.

You set your stuff down and push them up, smiling at his startled look. “Hey, sorry about the wait.”

He shakes his head, pink tinting his cheeks. “No worries, I was reading up on next week’s lecture for my genetics class.

You slide into the seat across from him. “Oh yeah? Anything interesting?”

You can’t believe he’s a virgin, he’s so…hot. Your mind starts to wonder for a second, imagining what it would be like, how he’d sound, how he’d feel, the flustered look on his face when you straddle him.

He nods, and begins to explain, talking wildly with his hands, pulling you from your lewd thoughts, then he freezes, his shoulders tensing, his hands deathly still.

“Miguel? Everything alright?” You ask, casting a glance over your shoulder in the direction of his gaze.

Fucking Kron.

When Kron gets closer you yell out, “so what are you like a stalker now or something?”

He laughs, it’s that specific laugh that reeks of arrogance and an inability to see women as people. “You wish.”

“I really don’t.” You grumble, turning back to look at Miguel.

His knuckles are white, his jaw clenched, his back ramrod straight, his shoulders set back, the expanse of his chest on display as if he’s trying to make himself look bigger than he already is, which is a feat in itself. There’s a look in his eyes that sends a shiver of something akin to fear down your spine. You’ve never seen Miguel look this way, ever, it’s like you’re looking at a whole different person.

“Migs, how you doing, bro?” Kron asks, standing between you and Miguel, who both remain seated, resting his hands on the table.

“Kron.” Miguel says curtly, turning that ice-cold gaze fully onto his half-brother.

Kron rolls his shoulders back and glances at you. “I thought I told you there’s nothing to be gained from hanging with this loser.”

Your eyes flicker back to Miguel, who’s giving Kron a harsh look you can’t quite decipher, then to Kron. “And I thought I told you I can make my own decisions.”

Kron clicks his tongue. “What’s he gonna do for you, he’s a fucking virgin. Just gonna try to make you cum by explaining science facts to you? Build you a dildo out of Legos?”

You nearly choke on your own spit. “What the fuck is wrong with you?

“If you’re that desperate for dick, you can always swing by the house, I’d be more than happy—” Kron hits the ground with a strangled yelp.

Miguel is on him in seconds, fist cocked back, his back muscle rippling as he brings his fist down, again and again and again. “Di esa mierda otra vez. Dilo de nuevo, te reto a la mierda.” Trsl: Say that shit again. Say it again, I fucking dare you.

Kron manages to get one arm free and tries to grab Miguel’s face, shirt, arm, anything he can reach. “You’re fucking crazy, you and your sorority slut.” Kron lands a solid hit, and you wince at the sight of Miguel’s head turning—even if it’s ever so slightly—with the force, Kron’s smug laugh ringing through the air once more.

“You never know when to shut up, huh?” Miguel snarls, forcing Kron’s arm down with his free hand, the other connecting with Kron’s nose, a sickening crack filling the air.

The sound prompts you into action, and you ignore the way your stomach flips at Miguel’s tone, at the way he moves, like a panther, powerful, stalking its prey, delivering that fatal blow.

Be so for real y/n, you cannot be turned on right now, that’s so embarrassing.

You grab Miguel’s shoulders and try to pull him away, it’s useless, but you try anyways. “Stop, stop, you have to stop, fuck come on Miguel—if they catch you fighting on campus you could lose your scholarship.”

“Shit, okay, I yield, I’m sorry.” Kron coughs out, blood gushing from his nose as his voice joins yours.

But Miguel doesn’t stop, he’s cursing under his breath, and at Kron in Spanish, his hand bloody, Kron’s flailing helplessly in his vice grip.

You try to grab Miguel’s bicep, fear flooding your system. “Miguel, stop, please, you’re freaking me out.”

That catches his attention.

Miguel mutters something to Kron then gets up, shoving his stuff in his bag and walking away, his shoulders tense.

In shock, you grab a bunch of napkins and your things, before chasing after him.

Why is this still kinda hot? You wonder, before mentally smacking yourself upside the head.

Miguel’s legs are much longer than yours, his steps bigger, faster, and you grab onto the front pocket of his backpack, his name spilling from your lips. “Miguel, hey, wait up.”

He stops, and you drag him into a nearby alcove with a bench pressed flush against the stone wall.

You both sit and Miguel refuses to look at you, his hand and lip bloodied.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” You ask, taking his hand in yours and dabbing it with a napkin, trying to clean him up the best you can.

“I’m sorry.” Miguel says quietly, eyes downcast.

“Why?” You turn his hand over and start cleaning his palm.

“I scared you, and I—I let my anger get the best of me, I should’ve just walked away.” His eyes meet yours for a brief moment when you gently dab at his lip.

“You didn’t scare me, I mean yeah that was a little intense, but…” You trail off when you realize he’s trembling. “Hey, I’m not afraid of you, you’re Miguel, my sweet boy, who can apparently throw one hell of a punch.”

He laughs at that, albeit weakly, but it’s still a laugh.

“And Kron is an idiot, don’t listen to him.” You continue, spending maybe a bit too long cleaning Miguel’s split lip, mesmerized by him.

“I don’t care what he says about me, he’s been a jerk since we were kids, but…he can’t just—you don’t deserve that.”

You exhale forcefully out of your nose, a small, contained laugh. “He’s just a dumbass saying dumbass stuff, like really, who would build a dildo out of Legos? That would hurt like a bitch.”

“And you don’t—you’re not weirded out by what he said?” Miguel asks carefully, you can feel the embarrassed heat radiating off him.

You set the napkin down and grab his chin with one hand turning his face side to side, inspecting him. You know what he means, not the Legos, or the science facts, the virgin part. It’s such a dumb thing to make fun of someone about something you’ve always been against. Why shame someone for such a personal choice? It’s their body, they can do what they want.

Plus, it’s kinda hot, being the first one to have him? The first one who gets to hear him, see him like that? Fuck, you wish that was you. Maybe you should offer? No, no, y/n, seriously, keep it in your pants.

Once you’re done with your inspection, you turn him to face you. “No, I’m not, who cares if you have or haven’t slept with someone, it’s not a big deal. Though I am surprised, a smart, handsome, sweet guy like you? I thought you’d have tons of girls under your belt. Bunch of math and science prodigies following you around like groupies, fighting to get in your pants.”

Because that’s who Miguel deserves someone smart, someone who can keep up with him—shit pull back, you’re making yourself insecure.

Miguel ducks his head, nuzzling into your palm as a result of the movement. “Thank you, for cleaning me up, and...you know.”

You smile, heart fluttering as Miguel leans into your touch. “No problem.”

You’re in wayyyy too deep.

Virgin Miguel bitchesssss

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer

[oneforthemunny]

sinister play |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: how you and rockstar!eddie meet.

reader has the last name klein, just for the purposes of the story.

contains: language, alcohol, drug use, reader and eddie absolutely despise each other and are very mean to each other so prepare for that, degrading, pornography watching, humiliation, spanking, hair pulling, fingering fem receiving, p in v rough sex, choking (light), no aftercare minors dni 18+

Los Angeles, 1991

The bass from the speakers, loud and booming, shaking the club with every riff of the guitar. Whatever band on stage was shredding, desperate fans and wannabe's jumping and shrilling the lyrics to some angry, grunge song you couldn't even understand.

"You want a drink?" Farrah asked over the loud music, leaning in close with a wide, burgundy lipped smile, a little smudged around the corner from the boy she was dancing with earlier.

You nodded, letting her pull you through the crowds, back to the bar in VIP. You weren't even sure why you left your secluded section. You could hear the band just fine from the confined leather couches and private bar upstairs.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, lanky, with shaggy locks that he kept tossing or blowing up out of his eyes. He attempted to give you a flirty smile, which you half heartedly returned.

"I want a double shot of vodka, extra limes." You said, slapping the crisp, one hundred-dollar bill on the mahogany wood.

"I'll have another cosmo, please." Farrah giggled to the bartender, batting her eyes sweetly to him.

"Coming right up, ladies." The bartender grinned, pocketing the bill with a sultry wink your way.

"Oh my God," Farrah gasped, grabbing your arm before you could scoff. "Holy shit, ok, don't look, but look, but don't make it obvious, ok-"

"-what?" You huffed, craning your head over your shoulder.

"No! I said don't make it obvious." Farrah squealed, manicured hand pushing your face back towards her. "Do you know who just walked in?"

You frowned. "No, I couldn't see them."

"That's Corroded Coffin." Farrah whispered, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh my God, you know them. You know, they're that rock group? They're kinda nasty, but so fuckin' hot. They have that one song that's about the stripper and-and the cocaine?"

"Wow, that really narrows it down." You scoffed sarcastically, turning to look over your shoulder again.

They certainly looked the rock band part, that was for sure. Five guys, some with Mohawks, shags, all in some sort of black leather, heavily tatted and pierced. Two were even wearing sunglasses, inside the dark club.

You rolled your eyes hard. "Jesus, they look like they're playing fucking dress up." You muttered, nodding to the bartender when he slipped you your drink. "Whoever their stylist is should be fired for that. The most stereotypical garb I've ever seen."

Farrah smirked, thanking the bartender, sitting her pink drink giggly. "I think they look hot." She wiggled her brows at you playfully. "You don't wanna fuck a rockstar?"

You laughed. "I have fucked a rockstar." You gave her a pointed look. "A few, actually, or did you forget?" Farrah giggled. "And so have you Miss Von Abel."

"Yeah, but not a real, rock, rockstar, Miss Klein." Farrah smirked over the lip of her glass. Her eyes bulged, sputtering on her drink. "Holy shit, they're coming over here."

You grimaced. "Ew, no they're not."

"Yes, they are, holy shit, be nice." Farrah muttered, looking down at her glass, sultry and unsuspecting, posed.

You snorted into your drink, downing the rest of it before lifting your glass, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.

"And I'll have what she's having," A voice from behind you purred. You didn't move. "Except make it a tequila. Patron or Casa, I'm not picky."

The chair beside you screeched against the floor, so loud you could hear it over the music. Leather and wild, dark curls clouded the vision in the corner of your eyes, a wolfish grin baring perfect, shiny white teeth.

"Hi, there." The man greeted, a low purr.

You looked over at him, eyeing him up fully. The ripped jeans, band tee, spiked jewelry, and worst of all- leather jacket. You scoffed, he really was a walking cliche.

"Hi," You snipped, bored and unimpressed. You turned to Farrah, watching as she giggled and leaned closer to the other boy, his spiked hair and ringed fingers drumming on the edge of her glass.

"I'm Eddie." The boy next to you said, tongue rolling on the inside of his mouth.

You nodded, sighing slowly. "I didn't ask." You replied coldly, stirring your empty drink with the slim black straw.

Eddie paused, blinking for a moment. He hadn't been ignored and rejected like this since high school, since before he left Hawkins. Treated and casted out like he was nothing, like he was nobody.

His fingers tapped on the bar, angry and furiously, buzzing from the embarrassment and the effects of the cocaine. He looked back over at you, squinting in the low light.

"I know you." Eddie said, pointing a finger at you.

"No, you don't." You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"No, I do." Eddie shook his head, feet tapping on the floor. "How do I know you? Fuck, you're not friends with Aria are you?"

"No." You snapped, irritated.

Eddie twisted his lips in thought, running a hand down his face. "Fuck, I know I know you." He huffed, leaning past you. "Gare, why do I know this chick?" He asked, hitching his thumb towards you.

You scoffed, nose snarling in disgust. Farrah grimaced, looking at you with a pleading look. Gareth looked at you, tilting his head to the side. "You're Victor Klein's daughter, right?"

"Yeah, that's her." Farrah grinned, wide eyed and giggly. "How did you know that?"

Eddie's ringed hand slapped down on the bar loudly, making you jump. He snapped his finger, and pointed at you. "That's fucking right. Your dad's that movie guy. Makes all those movies, holy shit." Eddie laughed, looking up at you with a dimpled grin. It made you flush slightly, but your face remained neutral, soured. "And your mom was that model for Playboy back in the day? That super hot one."

Eddie's eyes rolled over you, taking in your black, slip dress, short and low in all the right places, straight off the Versace runway. He licked his lips, eyes gleaming when he looked at you. "I can tell you two are related." He grinned, hand slipping on your thigh.

"Ugh," You groaned, shoving his hand off. You grabbed your drink just as the bartender sat it down, standing up from your high top seat. "Farrah, I'll be outside. I need a smoke."

Eddie tried not to falter, not letting his face fall at the rejection, at how you brushed him off and discarded him like he was nothing. He wasn't used to this, to women ignoring him rather than throwing themselves at him. He was Eddie fucking Munson, rockstar with a notable ten inch cock that anyone would be lucky to fuck.

"Shit, I could go for a smoke too, baby. Let me-"

"Look, I don't know if you're too coked out or just really fucking stupid, but I'm not interested in being seen with a C-list rockstar poser." You snapped, teeth bared and angry at him.

"C-List?" Eddie gawked, scoffing in offense. "Excuse me, sweetheart, do you know who the fuck I am?" Eddie growled, ringed hand shoved in his chest.

"No," You snarled smugly, eyes narrowed dangerously towards him. "But you certainly know who I am."

Eddie scoffed when you walked away, heels snapping and clacking across the floor all the way to the balcony outside. He grit his teeth, inked hand fisting the glass, throwing back the tequila in one gulp, grimacing gently at the burn in his throat and nose.

He turned to Farrah, lips pursed furiously. "Your friend always such a fucking bitch?" He growled.

Gareth threw his hands out, head nodding suggestively towards Farrah. She didn't seem to be phased, you'd certainly been called worse. "She's really nice, actually. One of the sweetest people you'll ever meet." She paused, lips twisting in thought. "If she likes you." Her eyes flashed to Eddie with a slight grimace. "She doesn't like you."

Eddie scoffed, shoving his chair back. "Yeah, well, fuck her too." He growled, stomping off to the bathroom, fishing in his pockets for the small baggie of coke.

***

You took a long drag of your cigarette, balancing your drink in the other hand, pressed up against the railing of the night club, chatting with Arnie Brandenburg, a long time friend. The two of you had grown up in Beverly Hills together, down the street. Your moms went to the same Jane Fonda fitness classes, always leaving you two in the country club nursery.

"I mean, Greenwich is nice for Connecticut, but it's just not the Hamptons, ya know?" Arnie grinned.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Honestly, you sound like my mother." You rolled your eyes. "Daddy talked about selling the Hamptons house once since it's on the East Coast, and she about died. Wouldn't talk to him for a week." You snickered, shaking your head.

"I would too!" Arnie threw his hands out dramatically. "I mean, if you're not going to the Hamptons in the summertime, then what are you doing? Imagine celebrating the Fourth of July anywhere else, it would be a crime-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." A voice over your shoulder groaned.

You turned, angrily and fierce, ready to lash at whoever dared to interrupt you. You were less than surprised to see it was Eddie. He shook his head, forearms leaning over the rail, smoking his own cigarette slowly.

"Excuse me?" You snapped, eyes narrowed in challenge.

Eddie looked up at you, unimpressed and unfazed. "The two of you sound so fuckin' shallow, holy shit." Eddie scoffed, shaking his head.

You gawked as Arnie blushed furiously, looking down at his drink in embarrassment. "We were having a private conversation-"

"-yeah? That why you're talkin' so loud?" Eddie shot back, teeth grit in challenge. "Private conversation, so you talk loud enough for everyone to hear you, right? Make sure they all know that you two are loaded, so much better than anyone else, right?"

You huffed, turning on your heel, jaw tight. You were flushing furiously, heat spreading from the fire in the pit of your belly up your chest and neck. "Don't pay attention to him, Arnie. He's pissed I wouldn't suck his dick at the bar." You snipped, loud enough for Eddie to hear.

Arnie hesitated, eyes flickering from you back to Eddie. Eddie laughed loudly, humorlessly. "Holy shit," He shook his head. "You know, it makes sense why you're such a bitch, honestly. Probably never been told no a day in your fucking life."

You whipped around, drink sloshing and spilling down your wrist from the sudden movement. "What the fuck did you just call me?"

Eddie pulled a mocking, pouting face your way. "Oh, you didn't like that, huh?" He taunted. "Sorry, Princess, didn't mean to upset you. I forgot, girls like you can't handle being told the truth."

"The truth?" You scoffed. "I can handle the truth, what I can't handle is losers like you trying to hit on me like you ever had a chance."

"Oh? Because I'm not from the Hills?" Eddie retaliated, defensively, insecurity seeping through his barred teeth.

"No, because you're such a fake." You laughed mockingly back at him, eyes rolling down his frame. It was a juvenile, mean tactic, but you didn't care. It worked, judging by the way he squirmed and moved to straighten his posture. "You dress like this pathetic cliche, hit on girls all the time, treat them like shit and do shit to keep you in the tabloids, and guess what? In a few years, you'll be irrelevant anyways. You'll peak, and you'll go back to Ohio or wherever the fuck you're from, and I'll still be here, watching the next you try to hit on me."

Eddie's face dropped, stunned and a little hurt. Arnie pulled your arm, saying your name softly to get you to step away, but you refused. Too angry and determined to get him away for good.

"Who the fuck do you think you are exactly?" Eddie snapped back. "I mean, you're only relevant because of who your daddy is." He scoffed, snarling back at you. "Seriously, Princess, you swear you're someone special, but you wouldn't be anything without that last name. I might be whatever you want to call me, but I'm me. I made my own fucking name, didn't get anything handed to me. I did it myself. Can you say the same?"

You blushed furiously, stammering under his intense glare. Eddie took a step closer, crowding you. "What happens when daddy goes away, huh? When you don't have anything to cling to because you're nothing on your own? What then? What happens to this high and mighty attitude when your one claim to fame is gone, and everyone forgets you."

"That-That won't-"

"-Won't happen?" Eddie laughed menacingly at you. "Sweetheart, you're in for a big surprise then. You don't do shit. You've never worked for a goddam thing in your life. Daddy made sure of that, didn't he?"

You blushed furiously, lips pressing together in anger. "You don't know anything about me."

"No?" Eddie's brows lifted in amusement. "But you certainly know a lot about me." He hissed, throwing your words from earlier right back in your face, making you shrink. "You must know more than you pretend to know about me. Or do you just say shit like that to anyone? Just mean for fun, huh? I'm a walking cliche? Baby, you couldn't get more predictable if you tried." Eddie sneered, leaning down so his face was inches away from yours.

The heat from the two of you was radiating, burning each other further and further with every sneer and venom filled word. Arnie pulled you away with a slight tug of your arm, ushering you away from your hate filled stare and back towards the club.

***

"Who the fuck does that guy think he is, huh?" You slurred, slamming your glass back onto the mahogany top of the bar. Your vision was swirling slightly, the alcohol in your system flooding over your senses easily.

You looked at Arnie, then back over at Farrah, who was sitting perched in Gareth's lap. "Hon, don't worry about it. He's a dick, don't you know that?" Arnie scoffed. "Honestly, did you see what he did to that poor girl? All of them really. He humiliates them for fun."

You had seen what he did to those girls. Fucking them on balconies, tatting their ass, paddling them with a wood paddle that left the band's logo on their red, inflamed cheeks, then letting them walk out so the paparazzi went wild. You had to admit, it was pretty good press. His stylist might have been shit, but his PR person you needed to meet.

The first time you'd seen them on the cover of a gossip column magazine, you couldn't help but stare. The sheer taboo nature of it all, filthy and wrong. It made your thighs twitch. You'd tried to convince your 'boyfriend' of the time to try something like that with you, but he'd called you weird, mocked you for wanting to try it. You'd blamed it on the coke, and never talked of it again.

Maybe he did intimidate you. Maybe he even intrigued you a little, but you refused to allow it, hatred and loathing consuming any feelings of curiosity towards the asshole that was Eddie Munson.

Eddie had a girl in his lap, in the booth on the other side of the bar. You could see it perfectly from your own seat, his lips on her neck, sucking in deep, dark bruises. His hand up her skirt, teasing her so she writhed and bucked all over his lap, sloppy and desperate. His eyes met yours, and you scoffed, slamming back another shot.

Farrah called your name, giggly and stumbling towards you, wrapping her arms around you. "I need a favor," She whispered into your ear.

"What?" You snapped, harder than you meant it to. It'd been a long night.

Farrah pressed her nose to yours, eyes crossing to focus on yours. You could smell the vodka on her breath, sharp and stinging. "I'm gonna go back to Gareth's place for a while. He said he'd give me a tour." She giggled, swaying slightly.

"Ok?" You asked, lifting a brow, her hands planted firmly on your cheeks.

"Come with me, please." Farrah whispered. "Just for a little while, then-then we can go back home, I promise."

You groaned, pulling apart. "I don't want to go to his place-"

"-please! It's just for a teeny, tiny, little bit." Farrah pressed her fingers together for show. "Just so he can... show me around."

You gave her an unimpressed look. "So you two can fuck?" You asked.

Farrah giggled wildly, tossing her head back. "Maybe..." She let out a nasally laugh, swaying back and forth. "Please? For me?"

You hesitated, looking at her then cutting behind her to see Eddie, still working the girl in his lap. "Fine. Let me get one more drink and close out." You grumbled.

Farrah hugged you tightly, strawberry glossed lips pressing a sticky, wet kiss to your cheek before scampering back to Gareth. You waved the bartender down for another, downing the vodka easily before handing him a wad of cash to cover your tab and a tip.

You hugged Arnie goodbye, waving to your other friends before following Farrah down the steps, towards the private exit of the VIP. She giggled and swung on Gareth's arm, flirty and sweet. You watched her carefully, arms crossing over your chest when you got outside, following him towards the large, black car waiting with the rest.

"After you, M'lady." Gareth bowed sillily, making Farrah cackled, a stumble curtsy given back in return. You nodded gently when you climbed past him, moving to the farthest seat on the rounded lounge area.

The door opened again, Eddie and another member of the band filing in. You scoffed. "Oh, fuck me," You groaned, rolling your head back.

"What?" Farrah asked, eyes blinking innocently towards you. "What's wrong?"

"Who the fuck invited her?" Eddie snapped, throwing an arm out towards you.

"I did, Ed." Gareth hissed, eyes cutting to Farrah next to him. "Shut the fuck up."

You smirked triumphantly when Eddie sank in the seat across from you, huffing and rolling his eyes. The car ride back to their place was painfully awkward. Gareth and Farrah were wrapped up in their own little world, giggling and whispering sweetly to each other.

Jeff, the other member in the car, had tried to speak to you. You tried not to let your irritation get the best of you, but alcohol mixed with the sour taste you had for Eddie weren't doing you any favors.

"Give it up, Jeff, I told you she was just gonna be an asshole." Eddie grumbled when you'd gave Jeff another short, choppy answer.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I'm the asshole, huh?" You scoffed.

Jeff hesitated looking between the two of you. "It's cool, really." He said sweetly, giving you a small smile.

You felt your stomach twist in guilt, bile rising in your throat as your heart hammered. He really was a sweet guy, just trying to be nice. "So," You started awkwardly, looking over at him. "Where are you from?"

"Somewhere you've never heard of." Jeff smiled, shaking his head. "Hawkins, Indiana."

You smiled back. "You're right. Never heard of it."

Jeff laughed. "That's alright. No one has." He shrugged. "All three of us are from there actually. Met in high school."

You bit back the sharp comment on your tongue directed towards Eddie, swallowing it down bitterly. You didn't want to prove his point anymore than you already did tonight.

"Wow," You nodded, giving a forced, dazzling smile that only a Hollywood native could give. "Must be really different being here now. Big change?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, it was an adjustment. Traffic was the worst." He grinned when he hit Gareth's shoulder. "Gare, remember when we first came out here and Eddie got stuck on the 305?"

Both boys growled in laughter while Eddie rolled his eyes. "Christ, we almost missed our first record meeting. Almost got cut before we ever started."

Your eyes flashed to Eddie's, a sneer like grin on your lips. "Shocking." You bit sarcastically, raising your brows.

Eddie rolled his eyes, scoffing at you. "Yeah, well, I figured it out, didn't I?" Eddie gave a tight lipped smile to the boys. "You gotta figure stuff out on your own sometimes, ya know? Shit just can't be done for you or you never learn."

You scoffed loudly, throwing your hand up. "I mean, and I'm the asshole? You had the audacity to call me the asshole?"

"Alright, let's just- let's calm down." Farrah glared at you, lifting her hands between you and Eddie.

"Yeah, Ed, take it easy." Gareth grit, eyes narrowing towards him.

You both rolled your eyes, arms crossing and huffing before looking out the window.

The gates to the Hidden Hills mansion the boys had opened, large and elaborate. The car pulled to the front, Jeff tipping the driver and wishing him a good night as you all piled out.

Gareth droned on and on about the house, the special features it had to Farrah, who giggled and awed- like she didn't grow up in a house triple the size of this. You bit back that comment and followed, heels clacking against the floor, bored.

Eddie had disappeared a while ago, something about needing a joint. Gareth offered to show Farrah his room, and they were gone. Leaving you standing there, waiting.

"Uh, there's a movie room up the stairs if you wanna go in there." Jeff offered with a small smile. "You can wait there if you want. Or-Or you can stay here."

You shook your head. "I'll go wait upstairs. I think they'll be a while." You rolled your eyes.

Jeff laughed. "It's to the right, down the hall, first room on the left." He pointed up the staircase.

You climbed the spiraling stairs, taking in the odd decor of the house. There was a lot of paintings of dragons, very epic and mystical, not quite the decor you thought the metal band would have. You turned down the dark hallway, tiptoeing quietly past the rooms in case someone was sleeping.

You could hear the muffled sound of something playing in the movie room, muted against the heavy doors of the room, but you didn't hear any other signs of life as you pushed them open. The screen was large, illuminating the room and the rows of leather, recliner chairs in it. You closed the door quietly behind you, tip toeing towards the screen.

Your brows furrowed deep in confusion, swaying on your feet as you watched the film that was playing. A rather burly, muscular man grabbed the girl by her hair, pulling her close to him roughly. "I think bad girls like you need to be taught a lesson..." He growled. She moaned loud, pornographic and exaggerated.

Your eyes widened, eyes glued on the screen as he tossed her over his raised knee, hand slamming down on her up turned ass while sh yelped dramatically, mewling and whining. You bit your lip, squirming slightly, thighs pressing together at the scene.

"You enjoying yourself?" You jumped, heart thumping into your ears, screeching at the unexpected voice.

Wild curls, dark eyes, and a menacing smirk met your gaze when you turned. Eddie, sitting in the back row in the dark.

"What the fuck?" You grabbed at your heart. "What-What are you doing in here-"

"-It's my house." Eddie scoffed, arms extending wide on the back of the seats beside him.

You rolled your eyes. "Jeff told me I could wait in here. I-I didn't think you'd be in here."

"This is my favorite room." Eddie said slowly, jaw still set. "Where I come to relax."

"Well, I'll leave you to it." You scoffed, nodding towards the screen, turning towards the door.

"No, why don't you stay." You could hear his smirk through his tone. "Seemed like you were really enjoying it."

You blushed furiously, caught and embarrassed. You didn't face him. eyes cutting towards the screen, watching the man finger the girl as she was still over his knee, squirming and crying.

"Don't be gross." You bit, hoping you sounded more convincing. "Who watches this kind of stuff?"

"Me," Eddie snorted. "Seems like you do too."

"I do not." You snapped, whipping around to face him, his smug grin. God, you wanted to slap it off his face.

"What are you doing anyways? Researching new ways to hurt your groupies? Get the press talking some more?" You sneered.

Eddie's brow raised, amused. Your heart stuttered. "Oh? I thought you didn't know who I was, hm? To beneath you."

"Well, of course I know about that." You scoffed, rolling your eyes so you didn't have to meet his intense glare. You crossed your arms over your chest, securing yourself. You felt too vulnerable, too seen.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, shifting so he was leaning towards you. "You know a lot about that, don't you, honey?" You stammered, blushing furiously at him. "How many times you wish that was you?" Eddie asked plainly.

Your throat constricted, tongue feeling stupid and big in your mouth. "W-With you?" You lifted a brow, hoping your menacing stare would distract him from the way your legs shook. "Never."

"Oh, I don't believe that." Eddie purred, standing slowly. A tiger to his prey, slow and calculated. "But fine, not with me. How many times have you thought about that?" He nodded towards the scene behind you, the man fucking the girl hard, hips snapping against her abused ass. You swallowed hard, eyes trained and glazed on the video.

You gasped, body lurching a little when you felt him behind you, looming presence casting over you, but never touching you. "How many times have you thought about someone putting you in your place like that?" Eddie growled, and you fought back a shiver, shoulder's tensing. "Is that why you're so mean all the time? Why you act out and want a reaction, hm? You're just begging for someone to put you in your place, aren't you? Screaming for attention."

His fingers trailed lightly over your hip down towards the hem of your dress. You shuddered, exhaling shakily as you watched his inked fingers toy with the edge of the black material. Your mind screamed to stop him, to shove him off and tell him to go fuck himself. But the throbbing between your legs superseded any protest you had, letting him ghost over you.

"That's why you wear these little dresses. You go out, and start fights with these guys hoping they'll actually fight back with you, don't you?" Eddie growled, fingers trailing over your bare thigh, inching dangerously close to your center.

You bit your lip, refusing to look at him, to answer. "You want attention?" Eddie asked, his breath hot on your ear. "I'll give you that attention you want so badly. All you gotta do is ask."

You whined, his fingers feather light, teasing over your slit. You knew he had to feel how wet you were, the growing wet patch on the front of your lace panties. You squirmed into his touch.

"Go on," Eddie grunted, fingers trailing up and down your clothed slit, you throbbed, ached for the touch. "Ask me to put you in your place."

You sighed, shaky and breathy. Your eyes were trained on the screen, refusing to meet his, watching the way the man pounded the girl from a new position. "You talk a big game for someone who will probably only last a few minutes." You shuddered, mean and bratty, a furious gleam back in your eye.

Eddie scoffed. He pulled his hand away entirely, leaving your gasping at the loss. "Guess you'll never find out." He whispered, lips tickling the shell of your ear.

You watched him walk towards the door, heart pounding in your chest when he reached for the door knob. "Wait!" You cried, biting down on your lip hard.

Eddie turned slightly, brow raised. You hesitated, squirming and eyes flicking from the screen back to him. "I-I want it." You admitted, cheeks burning red. Eddie could see it in the glow from the screen.

He lifted a brow, hand falling from the knob to cross over his chest. He stared hard at you, down the slop of his nose. "Want what?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. The bastard. "You gotta use your words. C'mon, baby, you had no problem using them earlier." He snapped.

You fidgeted, swaying on your feet. You couldn't look at him, too humiliated. "I-I want you to put me in my place." You whispered, speaking down the the dark, shag carpet of the room.

"Louder." Eddie commanded, snapping his fingers at you. "And look at me when you speak to me."

A cold shiver ran down your spine. Excitement and anticipation twisting in your tummy. You lifted your gaze slowly, fingers still wringing and twisting when you met his dark, brown eyes. "I-I want you to... to put me in my place."

Eddie exhaled slowly out of his nose, heavy steps coming towards you until the two of you were toe to toe. He towered over you, looking down at you with a hard, stoic expression. "This is what you really want?" Eddie asked. "Want me to teach you how to behave? I'll warn you now, I'm not nice. Not gonna go easy on you."

You nodded slowly, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie cocked his head to the side, signaling he wanted a verbal answer. "Y-Yes... It's what I want." You huffed, crossing your arms back over your chest.

Eddie smirked, a barely raised corner of his lip. "Fine." He grunted. "It'll be my pleasure, actually. I've never met someone who needed to be knocked down a few pegs more in my life." He grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the first recliner. He sat down with a heavy sigh, yanking you in between his spread thighs. "And if smacking you around a little will be you to be less of a little bitch," He sneered up at you, making you squirm. "Then, I guess I'll do the honors."

You rolled your eyes, with a small scoff before his large hand cracked down on your ass, making you gasp. Eddie gave you a hard glare. You squirmed, thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction. His hit stung, but it left you aching, slick coating your thighs.

"You want to stop, you say 'bats' and we stop." Eddie said, hands pulling at your dress.

"Bats? That's a fuckin' stupid-" Another resounding smack of his ringed hand to your ass had you yelping out, stopping and looking at him.

"Oh, this is gonna take a lot more than I thought." Eddie shook his curls, pulling the tie of the dress so it fell down your hips slowly, in a puddle by your feet. You stood in nothing but a bright red thong. "You're worse off than I thought. Might need multiple sessions to fix this bad attitude."

You snarled. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" You bit.

Eddie hummed, fingers hooking down your panties, pulling them down your thighs so they rested at your mid-thigh. He pressed his fingers into the soaked front of your cloth, smearing your sticky release down the crotch until it was coated on his finger. He brought it up to your face, eyes hard in challenge.

"Seems like you're not having a bad time either." Eddie snapped. You blushed hard, hands covering your neck so he couldn't see the flush. "Think you're enjoying this a little too much."

You snarled, but fought the urge to roll your eyes. Eddie pulled down the rest of your panties, letting you step out of them before they were puddled on the floor. He shifted forward, legs spreading before he nodded towards his lap.

You hesitated for a moment, arms reaching out slow and unsteady, awkward as you folded your body forward delicately. His rough, calloused hands pulled you forward, aching center rubbed against his knee, bottom high in the air. Your arms were forward, hanging over the recliner, back dipped between his legs.

"Hm," Eddie sighed heavily, ringed hand running over your cheeks, down your thigh and over your back. You shuddered, head spinning. For a moment, it almost felt gentle.

"I can tell that you and your mama are related." He grinned, squeezing the fat of your ass hard. "Good looking ass on both of ya."

You scoffed loudly. "You’re dis-" You gasped, the hard smack he delivered to the center of your ass sending you forward, breath leaving your lung. The unfamiliar sting burned through the hit, electrifying your senses. You clamped your lips together, rocking slightly against his knee for friction.

"You just never learn, do ya?" Eddie laughed, hand cracking down on your ass, one hit to each cheek that left you yelping out. "That's alright. Keep running that mouth. I can stay here all night."

His hand cracked down on your fleshy ass, hips jumping and body tensing with every hit. You could feel the burn, foreign and unfamiliar, building already. His rings added extra sting to his hits, cold metal digging into your hot skin. You tried to still your hips, keep yourself from grinding helplessly down onto his leg.

“I can tell no one’s ever done this to you before.” Eddie breathed, hand light, almost delicately trailing down your cheeks before he brought his hand down again, twice. Two quick smacks that had you squealing, lurching forward.

“I’ve never met a more spoiled little bitch.” Eddie growled, hand thundering onto your cheeks. You mewled loudly, lips pressed shut to try and stop yourself.

“No one’s ever put you in your place like this before have they?” Eddie hissed, squeezing your burning cheeks hard, enough to make you squirm. His hand cracked down, unforgiving and hard, right near your core. It had you screaming out, abdomen clenching at the sensation. “I asked you a fucking question.”

“No,” You whispered, jaw tight, slow steady breaths coming out of your nose, desperate to keep the tears down.

Eddie huffed, fingers snaking down to your core. You gasped when he slid them through your slick folds. “Hm,” he hummed, mocking. He head his fingers in front of you, ringed digits coated in your arousal, making you blush deep. “Suck.” Eddie barked.

You hesitated for a moment, stunned by his demand. Eddie’s free hand yanked your hair back, scalp screaming at the roughness of his grasp. “I said, suck.”

Your lips parted in a slow tremble, just wide enough to let him slip his fingers in. You hollowed your cheeks barely, letting your tongue slides slowly over his fingers, tasting your own tangy arousal. Eddie’s fingers probed further, pressing back to the back of your throat, scissoring so you’d gag at the intrusion.

You breathed deep, controlled through your nose. Only gagging for a moment, before you let his assault continue. Your eyes were on him, round and hopeful for praise. He lifted a brow. “I’m impressed,” he muttered, dark, dimpled grin on his face. “Though I guess I shouldn’t be. A little whore like you should know how to take a cock.”

Your cheeks blushed furiously, anger flaring back in your chest. You bit down on his fingers, hard enough to grind the bone and have him hissing, yanking his fingers back out. He glared at you before a ringed backhand cracked across your cheek, stinging and shocking you.

You gaped at him, wide eyed in shock. Eddie growled back. “You just can’t play nice, can you?” He shook his head, sighing loud and dramatic, mocking.

He shoved you back over his lap, your hands falling in front of you to stop you from face planting onto the ground. Eddie's hand's started back up, cracking down on your already flaming ass, quick and hard. No longer teasing and fun, but rather punishing and mean. Your head still reeled, throbbing between your legs.

You clenched hard, jaw tightening and fists balling. The pain on your ass was building hard, uncomfortable burn and heat radiating off your reddened skin. You could feel Eddie's erection against your hip, you hoped if you squirmed enough he would stop, but you had a feeling there was only one way he'd stop.

Eddie's rings were biting into your ass, making you jump with every hit. His ability to not let up, to keep the same rhythm was impressive if you were being honest. "For a brat you sure can take a beating." Eddie hissed. You thought he might stop, he didn't.

You whimpered, squirming your hips forward to get away from his assaulting hand. He just simply pulled you back, roughly into place, continuing again. "Eddie," You whined, hips wiggling. "Eddie, ok, stop. I learned my lesson, you can stop." You huffed.

Eddie laughed, humorlessly. "I don't think you have." He snapped, hand cracking down hard, leaving you jumping.

“I have!” You whined, a high pitched mewl that left his cock lurching, twitching at how desperate you sounded.

“Prove it.” Eddie growled, ringed hand grabbing your hair, yanking you up harshly again, back arching and dipping with the lift. You grunted at the burn in your scalp. “You said you learned your lesson, prove it.”

“How?” You huffed, teary eyed and desperate. Your cocky attitude be damned at this moment, you were determined to do anything to get him to stop and fuck you.

Eddie smirked. "You need me to tell you how to say sorry? You don't know how to apologize? God, you are such a fucking spoiled, shallow little brat aren't you." You howled in pain when his hand cracked back down, choking out a sob. 

"Fuck, ok, ok! I'm sorry, ok?" You squealed, squirming against his leg again.

Eddie snorted, mocking and unimpressed. "You call that an apology?" He sighed heavily, pushing you back forward, hand groping and squeezing your aching cheeks. "We're gonna be here all night, aren't we?"

You cried, shaking your head. "No, no, please, I-I'll be good, ok?" You sniffled. "I'm sorry." You muttered, pathetic and small.

Eddie wrenched your hair back again, making you cry out in pain. You thought he might take mercy on you. Clearly you were wrong. "What was that?" He growled. "Speak up. Loud and clear."

You sniffled hard, pinching your eyes together. "I-I'm sorry, Eddie." You let out a hard shaky breath, voice wavering with the admission. "I'm sorry for being m-mean to you."

Eddie didn't budge, holding you in that position for a moment, teetering you on the edge of anticipation, getting you squirming and whining until he finally let go. You fell forward with a small huff, his hand rubbing over your ass.

"Look, you can learn, hm?" Eddie mocked. You bristled, gritting your teeth to hold back your snappy, mean comment. "You just need to be trained, don't you? Need someone to be mean and teach you?"

You nodded, a curt bob of your head, lips pressing together to keep your sob in. Eddie pinched your hot skin, hard enough to leave you yelping. He snickered, fingers trailing up your slick thighs, his fingers sunk into your sopping hole, pumping agonizingly slow. Your clit was swollen, aching, clenching against his fingers.

"Surprise, surprise, you liked this, didn't you?" Eddie mocked.

Your face heated, eyes pinching close, squirming against his lap. Eddie's hand cracked down on your ass. "Didn't you?" He gritted.

"Yes." You sobbed, falling limp over his lap.

Eddie smirked, satisfied. He felt like he finally had you broken and desperate, pathetic the way he wanted you. His fingers curled inside you, making you gasp. Your thighs trembled, your orgasm had been building from the moment you'd walked in the movie room, inching closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with every hard, unforgiving spank he administered to your ass. His words cruel and venomous, they should have you sobbing, running away and cursing his name, yet you couldn't wait to hear more, throbbing with every hate filled word.

You clenched, small huff escaping the back of your throat, your walls tightening around his fingers, expected and working you open magnificently. You rubbed your clit, aching with desperation against his legs, so close to your own release your eyes were rolling back, pathetic little cried and whines filling the room. It made Eddie's head spin, grinning mean and dark down at you, relishing in the way you wiggled and bucked on his lap.

You were so close, he knew that, which is exactly why he stopped. He pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch of your walls trying to vacuum him back in. Your eyes snapped up, panting and desperate with the loss of his fingers.

"What-"

Eddie pushed you off his lap, letting your knees hit the ground hard, uncaring when you shot him a displeased pout. He ignored you, shoving his jeans to the ground, boxers following with one quick swoop.

You tried not to gawk, his cock erect and angry, hanging in front of you nearly menacingly, inches from your nose. His inked body, covered in tattoos, tummy toned with the peeking of soft abs that we’re accentuated when he’d clench them, making the inked skin there move and ripple. You'd assumed everyone had exaggerated how big his cock was, the groupies that sold stories and tabloids just playing that detail up as an excuse for letting him do the things he did to them, dick drunk. You see now, that wasn't the case at all, feeling a little hypocritical for your own harsh judgements at the time.

"Get up, bend over." Eddie growled, nodding towards the chair he'd been sitting in. He stroked himself lazy and slow, cock dribbling out at the head. "You wanna cum? There's only one way you're gonna cum. Go."

You scrambled up, practically diving into the dark leather of the chair, nails scratching the thick material. Your head was reeling, pussy throbbing, aching with the way he'd edged you, toyed with you and got you so close.

Eddie snorted, shaking his head in a mocking manner. "So desperate, what a shock." He growled, lining himself up with you. He didn't bother being nice, your only warning of what's to come was the fat head of his cock pushing in your entrance, pausing when Eddie moved closer to you. "Thought you were too good for me? Look at you now."

You cried out loudly when he pushed in, filling you quickly, not giving you even a second to adjust before he pulled back out and slammed in you all over again. Your walls stretched and burn with the uncomfortable intrusion, clenching down hard on him so he cursed, sucking in a breath.

"You think you're too good for me? I think I'm too good for you." Eddie hissed, hips slamming hard against your ass, drooling at the way your red, irritated skin jumped against his. "Spoiled little bitch, you think you can just get away with treating people like shit? Being a cunt to everyone all the time because you grew up in the hills?" You panted, face buried in the leather, trying to conceal your shaky moans.

Eddie's hand in your hair wrenched you up, pulling you so you were standing on wobbly legs, his hand moving to your throat then back down to hold you across your hips. "I asked you a fucking question." He growled, nose exhaling hot air against your cheek.

You opened your mouth, dumbly letting your tongue roll out. The pressure on your neck wasn't enough to cut off oxygen, just enough to feel the pressure, but it still had you clenching hard, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Yes." You breathed out.

"Yes?" Eddie repeated, a sharp thrust that had you crying out. "You think you can treat people like shit?"

"No!" You whined, thighs trembling, tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. "No, no, no I don't! I'm sorry!" 

Eddie scoffed, letting his hand fall from your neck, your stranded moans and sobs leaving in sharp breaths out of your chest. He pounded hard into you, jabbing your g-spot relentlessly. A sloshing sound was starting to build, soft and mixing with the sound of his balls slapping against you.

Eddie pushed you back down, face first into the leather, his free hand finding your clit, the other gripping your hips hard- you knew you'd have bruises. "Spoiled little bitch," He grunted, lightly rubbing over your clit. His touch was ghosting, so light you wondered if you were hallucinating it. "Maybe I should call you a dumb little bitch instead, hm? Just dumb on my cock."

You screamed, back arching and eyes rolling when he pinched your clit, hard and round, rolling it between his pointer and thumb finger. Your legs shook, waves of pleasure washing over you until you collapsed beneath him, legs giving out. His hand on your hip and under your tummy held you up.

Eddie snickered, your wet released, sprayed out all over his pelvis, over his cock and the leather seats. He knew no now had ever done that to you, judging by the way you laid simple, head still reeling and shaking beneath him. Here you were thinking you were so much better, and yet, he was the only one who could fuck you properly.

Eddie didn't let up, didn't soften his pace, pounding into you harder and harder and harder. Your hips recoiled, fat jumping with every snap of his own hips, punishing you. He could feel you clamp around him again, tiny moans that were tired and breathy. His cock lurched, twitching deep inside of you, teeth gritting.

Eddie raised his hand, smacking your ass again, watching the way you jumped and whined, hand print fading in with the others, illuminated on your already abused skin. He tucked his lip between his teeth, eyes pinching hard shut, you'd already came again, shaking and whining around him with another pitiful little orgasm that left you dizzy all over again. Eddie grunted, jackhammering you hard before he felt his cock twitch hard, spilling deep inside you.

He thrusted slow, hard huffs of air mixed with small groans, his cock emptying deep inside of you, the sloshing sound of each thrust filling the room. "Oh, fuck," Eddie breathed out, chest heaving hard.

He looked down, creamy spend covering the base of his pubic hair, wetting it and leaving it glistening. He pulled out slow, smirking at the way your release and his dripped out of you, making a mess onto the floor.

You slid and he let you, crumpling into the floor, too tired and fucked out to make yourself stand, thighs burning and shaking, whimpering when the heels of your feet dug into your ass. Eddie smirked, smug and proud of how ruined you were now, how ruined he'd made you.

He reached for his jeans, fishing a cigarette out, lighting it while he watched you slowly drift back into yourself. Head lolling to the side, breaths evening out, and whimpering when the harsh carpet scratched against your ass. He'd nearly finished the stick when you finally looked up at him, soft eyed and glazed.

Eddie smirked, blowing smoke at you. "Welcome back, Princess," He snarled.

You rolled your eyes, half hearted and tired, shifting to gently try to stand. He grinned watching you, knocked knees, shaky legs, pushing yourself up and trying to hide your little whimpers and grunts. Still so stubborn and spoiled; he wished he was surprised.

"Finally learn your lesson?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Fuck off," You grumbled, but you couldn't bring yourself to be mean, too tired and sore.

Eddie hummed, shaking his head. "Guess we'll have to try again." He sighed, mocking and mean. You glared at him, he shrugged. "I'll break you eventually. I know there's a good girl in there deep, deep down inside."

"Yeah? Let me know when you find her." You snapped, lazily grabbing your dress. You didn't see your underwear, deciding to leave them wherever they were. You wouldn't be needing them anyways, the thought of the scratchy lace on your ass made you cringe.

Eddie laughed. "You're kinda funny when you're not so mean." He tilted his head to the side.

You gave him an unimpressed look, slipping your dress back on, haphazardly, trying to walk as straight and normal as you could past him. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you limp.

"You know where to find me next time you need to be put in your place, baby." Eddie grinned, leaning against the doorway. You turned, his cock hanging limply in front of him, and you could see how it glistened and shined in the low lights of the hallway.

"Now I know where to avoid." You snarled, mouth filling with spit at the sight of his cock, you swallowed it furiously. "We're not doing this shit again. Wasn't worth it." You bit, venomously and full of hate, eyes narrowing at him.

Eddie laughed at you, loud and mocking. "Oh, you'll be back." He said confidently. "And you know exactly where to find me. I'll see you then, Princess." He smirked, smugly, eyes rolling down your frame before he walked across the hall, shutting the door to what you assumed was his bedroom. You told yourself you'd never know, but you knew deep down that wasn't true.

You hobbled down the steps, heels in hand, hissing with stretch of your abused skin and aching pussy. Farrah grinned at you, standing from the bench by the doorway.

"Hey," She grinned, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"Don't." You snapped, shaking your head. "Just-just, get me the fuck outta here. I don't want to talk about it."

The car out front started, driving you through the gates, the soft glow of the sunrise filling the tinted windows of the car. Farrah pressed ups for questions, giggly and excited. You snarled, blaming it on the alcohol and boredom, but you knew better. You knew you'd be back, Eddie knew you'd be back, and you knew deep down that this was the beginning of something. Whether that something would be beautiful or detrimental, you weren't sure yet, but you couldn't wait to find out.

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana. 🌶️

Pairing: harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: yooooo thank you for sticking it out with me. I’ve been very sick for the last few weeks and have had no energy to do anything except exist so here’s a nice little chapter for you all!!!!

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, weed, mentions of past abusive relationship, mention of body image issues, SMUT, fluff and lmk if I ever leave anything out!!

Word count: 7K+

IV.

Friday morning came too soon for your liking. Eddie was at work at the music store and your mom had begged you again to come help decorate. Charlie’s mom was busy on the other end of the banquet room as you were making the flower arrangements for the centerpieces.

“Need help?” Steve’s voice caught you off guard.

“No, just keep her away from me.” You motioned with your head towards your ex-future mother in law. “She’s been glaring at me since I got here.”

“Might have a bigger problem than her here soon. He’s here early.” Your stomach sank as Steve told you what you were dreading the most.

You heard a heavy door open and shut, and in walked Charlie… and Grace. Perfect. Maybe they could occupy each other. “I’m not leaving your side.” Steve assured you as he fiddled with some random flowers nervously.

“Fuck them.” You muttered underneath your breath. You looked up and checked out Charlie- he looked better than the last time you’d seen him. Of course, the last time you’d seen him he was shit faced drunk, high off cocaine, and at his lowest, so anything would look better than that. His jeans seemed to fit him better and- you shook your head, what the fuck were you doing staring at him?

“You okay?” Steve seemed to notice your staring as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, fine. Just… weird.”

“I get it. First time I saw Nancy with Jonathan after was… uncomfortable.” You felt embarrassed for looking at him, someone who’d been so wrong to you in every way possible when you had someone so much better now. “Eddie said he’s coming by at 3, just so you know.”

You looked at the clock and it was almost lunch time.

“I’m gonna head out and grab lunch, you wanna come with me?” You brushed the leaf clippings that were sticking to your sweaty palms against your jeans and put the scissors down on the table.

“Nah, I’ll stick around here if you’ll bring me something back.” Steve handed you some cash and you took it and left.

Surprising Eddie at work had not been on your list of things to do since Steve had told you he was coming around 3, but it sounded much better than lunch by yourself and you wanted to waste as much time out as possible.

“Hey baby!” Eddie said, dropping the pile of records he was holding carefully onto the table beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“Hmmm, didn’t know if you could take a lunch with me. I’m all tuckered out from making floral arrangements for the high society members of Hawkins.” You joked as wrapped your arms around him and pecked him on the lips, not caring about the few customers in the shop.

“You do smell like flowers.” He took a big whiff of your hair as he kissed your head and hugged you back.

“And you smell like Eddie.” You nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his scent of weed, cigarettes, and just… him.

“Is that good or bad?” He asked you, smiling as he looked down.

“It’s good. Really good.” You watched as his smile widened and reached the crinkles in his eyes.

“Let me go tell Jeff I’m taking lunch for once, the van is out back. I’ll drive us.” You gave him a thumbs up and exited the store, immediately finding his car. “So what’s up?” He asked as he hopped into the drivers seat, “why are you really here? Couldn’t resist my looks, missed me so much?” He winked as he backed out of the parking spot.

“I mean all of that, but I also just wanted to get out of that banquet hall. Charlie and Grace showed up. I know their moms are all on the committee with my mom too, so I left Steve there, and I wanted to waste as much time as I could.”

Eddie gasped and clutched his chest, “Just waste some time with me?!”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Baby, I know you didn’t mean that.” Your stomach flipped at the nickname again. “I’m sorry he’s there. Did he speak to you? Do I need to go… what did Grace say? Snap his bones?”

“Remember, we’re supposed to be the well behaved ones.” You eyed him and watched his grip tighten on the wheel. “But no, as soon as they got there I left. It should be easier to avoid them tonight with more people there, and we can leave early too.”

Eddie nodded quietly to himself as his music played in the background. The song ended and he turned it down before he started to talk, “I just can’t believe that piece of shit could treat you so bad and have the fucking nerve to come to this stupid ass benefit, sorry, all the way from goddamn Chicago? After you got the cops involved there? As if that meant nothing. He’s just gonna prance around Hawkins untouched. I really hope he doesn’t cross me because I don’t know that I can trust myself.”

“Then you can’t come tonight, Eddie.” You said, putting your hand on his knee. He looked down at it, then back at the road.

“So you really don’t want to be seen with me, do you?”

“No, I-“

“No. I’ll stay home. You go have fun with all your friends.” You two pulled up at the restaurant to eat lunch, but you both sat there not moving, noticing the tense air between you two at Eddie’s quick mood change. “All your stupid old rich little high school friends you ‘hated.’ Dating me is probably part of a-”

You interrupted him, “Eddie Munson. Shut up. I want to be seen with you. I want you to go with me- you just cannot get into a fight at this dumb benefit, okay? That’s all I’m asking. No matter who’s there.”

“Sorry.” He looked like a hurt puppy apologizing to you. “I’m just nervous about tonight.”

“Steve and I set up the seating chart for the tables. It’s you, me, Robin, him, Hopper, Joyce, Nancy and Jonathan at ours. We’re gonna be fine. They’re on the opposite side of the hall and Hopper is seated to where he can keep his eyes on him at all times, okay?”

Eddie swallowed and nodded, “Can you stay with me the rest of the day? I don’t want you going back there without me.”

“I told Steve that I’d bring him lunch. We can do that together and then I’ll tell them I have to go home?” Your mom had to understand the seriousness of the situation.

Lunch went by quick, you ended up getting Eddie to lighten up and crack a few jokes eventually, and then you boxed up some pizza to take back to Steve. You both walked into the banquet hall together, Eddie clutching your hand as soon as you saw Charlie’s car was still there.

“Hey, here’s your pizza. Where’s mom?” You asked after quickly finding your brother.

“Hallway.” He said through a bite of pizza. Eddie stayed back to talk to Steve, spotting Charlie busy in the corner helping his mom and Grace with something.

“Hey mom. I’m really not comfortable being here with so few people and Charlie. Is it okay if I go home? I brought some leftover pizza if you need some food, Steve’s got it.”

You could see the judgement in her eyes over your lunch choice and she just smiled, “That’s fine. You’ve done enough. The flower arrangements look beautiful.” You smiled sweetly at her, then made your way back to the big room. You picked up your pace at the sound of yelling voices- all three you recognized. Except it was Eddie yelling your brother’s name.

Steve was on top of Charlie and Eddie was pulling him off as you walked in the door. Grace stood in horror as Charlie’s mom rushed up behind them.

“Maybe if your son would keep his mouth shut he wouldn’t get a broken nose!” Steve yelled as Eddie backed him away from Charlie who was clutching his bloody face.

“Maybe if your sister wasn’t the town whore with the freak then-”

“Town whore, Charlie? You sure that’s not Grace that you’re with?” You went to go lunge at Charlie, but felt two hands pulling you back. It was both your brother and Eddie. “What, he gets to punch him, but I can’t? He sure used to punch me.”

Charlie’s mom gasped behind him, “Don’t you dare spread lies about my son!”

“Lies? I’m so sorry. What verbiage would you prefer I use for how he hit me in Chicago? Would you like the copy of the police reports, or the pictures I had to take? Which ones would suit you better, because I can get both of them easily for you.” By now your mom had made it into the hall and was standing with her arms crossed.

“What did I-”

“It was him!” All 3 of you pointed to Charlie and backed away. Charlie’s mom and your mom stood speechless staring at one another as if they were waiting for the other to speak up.

“He called her-” Steve started but Eddie interrupted him.

“He doesn’t need to be here, or be around her. He’s not safe, and it’s not fair that he’s here.” Eddie stood firm, stepping in front of you and standing up to your mom.

“Not safe?” Charlie spoke up through his bloodied mouth and nose, “You’re one to talk, you fucking murderer.”

You watched in slow motion as Eddie lunged at Charlie, you saw Steve try to pull him back but Eddie pushed him away. Eddie grabbed Charlie by the collar of his shirt and spit in his face.

“You’re really original for that one, man. What else you gonna call me? The freak? Get the fuck out of here and take your girl with you.” He shoved him backwards with force and you watched as Charlie stumbled away, with Grace and his mom by his side.

Eddie huffed as he walked the opposite way to the doors leading to outside and you followed him, hearing Steve and your mom arguing already.

“Hey, you didn’t have to do all that.”

“What, defend you? Yes, I did.”

“You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble.”

“I want you to put a restraining order against him here in Hawkins so he can’t come near you.” Eddie lit a cigarette and took a huge hit off of it. “Hopper will take care of it. I don’t know how you put up with his bullshit for so long.”

“Me neither but I didn’t really have a choice, Eddie.” You kicked at a rock, watching it skip down the walkway.

“Uh, yeah you did. You could’ve fucking left.”

“It’s not that easy.” You shook your head at his lack of understanding.

“Sure was easy for you to leave me behind. And then leave town to go to Chicago.” He had you there. You had abandoned him once, and completely skipped town without missing a beat once you graduated high school. You watched as he continued to smoke his cigarette down to the filter, stubbing it out against the brick wall.

“Take me home.” You said, crossing your arms.

“No way am I letting you out of my sight.” He shook his head at you, his curls loosely flying awry.

“Eddie Munson, I want to go home. I’m not going tonight.”

“No, you’re coming with me and we’ll get ready at my house. Your dress is there.”

“I’m not going. I’ll go get Steve to take me home, then.” You were fuming as you turned on your feet and marched back into the building. Eddie had no idea what you’d been through- despite you telling him everything you could already, he clearly still had no idea how scary Charlie could be and why you couldn’t “just leave” him. You didn’t want to go tonight- Charlie attending or not, you were done with the whole fucking benefit. You were remembering why it was so easy to leave Hawkins in the first place.

Steve and your mom were going at it in the banquet hall- Steve’s hip was cocked to the side and he was running his hand through his hair constantly as he talked with his other hand- it was something you both did when you were deep in a conversation or argument.

“Can you take me home?” You interrupted them, not caring what your mom had to say.

“Gladly, let’s go.” Steve whipped his keys from his pocket as you both stormed out. Eddie tried stopping you on the way to your brother's car.

“Hey, where are you taking her?”

“Home. We’re both going home.” Steve answered for you as you tried to hold back angry tears.

“Oh, so you’re really not going tonight?”

“No man, leave her alone. It’s been a bad enough day as it is, just leave it be.” Steve held his hand up at Eddie’s chest as he tried to get closer to you. You turned and got in the passenger seat, focusing on the seatbelt as Steve rounded the car to get in the driver's seat. You looked up just in time to see Eddie getting in his van and speeding off almost as soon as his door slammed shut.

“Sorry.” You said, unsure of what you were sorry for. But you felt like it was all your fault. Hot tears started streaming down your face, you were quick to wipe them before they could fall any further.

“Nothing to be sorry about. He’s gotta simmer down on his own, and Charlie is a piece of shit. You should probably get a restraining order against him though in Hawkins, that was enough today to warrant one I’d say.”

“Yeah, Eddie said the same thing.” You sniffed, and felt Steve’s hand on your arm.

“He’ll be fine. Eddie’s been through a lot, we all have, and he doesn’t know how to manage his anger sometimes. It’s best if he just keeps to himself. I wouldn’t want him to say anything to you he’d regret later.” You silently nodded and wiped more tears away on the ride home, looking out the window to avoid looking at your brother.

A few hours went by and your mom came home to get ready for the event. She found you laid in your bed, you’d been crying on and off all day waiting for Eddie to at least maybe call, but after the second hour you’d given up on that.

“You don’t look very ready to go tonight.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes you are.” She stood firm in your doorway, looking the most dressed up you’d seen her in a while.

“No, I’m not. I’m a grown woman who can make my own decisions.”

“Then I’ll have to tell your date who’s waiting on you downstairs that you’re standing him up.” You lifted your head up to get a better look at your mom- she had your dress in her hands and was offering it to you. “He got here a little bit ago with Robin. Jim took care of Charlie, and you have 20 minutes to get yourself together.” You nodded at her and she placed the dress on your bed. You quietly thanked her and as she walked out of the room.

You were quick to wash your face, it was puffy from crying but you were able to fix it up with some cold water, and hide the redness with some makeup.

“Hey Robin! Can you come help me zip my dress?” You poked your head out of your room as you held your dress up on your body and waited. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and turned around to show your back to her, but the hands that grabbed at your zipper weren’t Robin’s. They were Eddie’s, you could feel the warmth of his rings against your back, and the tremble his hands had as he nervously zipped the back of the dress up on you, pushing a few stray hairs out of the way.

You turned to face him, and he looked at you with sad, puppy dog eyes.

“I’m really sorry for earlier today.” His hands reached out to your shoulders as he ran his thumbs in a calming manner over your soft skin. “I didn't want to-”

“Yeah, Steve told me.” You crossed your arms and brushed his hands away from you, “Let’s go before we’re late.” You tried walking out of your room, but Eddie tugged you back in.

“Heyyy.” He tried smiling at you, and you didn’t have one to return to him. “I mean it. I got extremely jealous of seeing Charlie and I let the worst of me get to me. What he said about you pissed me off. I got really mad and I say stupid shit when I’m really mad sometimes, and didn’t want to say something to you that would hurt you, okay?” You nodded, and he put his thumb on your chin to make you look at him. “I wanna have fun with you tonight, as stupid as this thing is, alright?”

“Thanks for apologizing.” You leaned forward and pecked him on the lips, but that wasn’t enough for him.

Eddie pulled you close to him with his hands on either side of your face, and you wrapped your arms around your neck, pushing your body weight against his and backing him up towards your bedroom door, causing it to slam shut. He flipped you two around so your back was to the door, and he planted his hands beside you, pinning you against it.

“Thought you didn’t wanna be late, baby?” His voice was thick with lust, a slow drawl that you rarely heard coming from his lips. “Steve left with Robin and your parents a few minutes ago anyway, we got the house to ourselves now.” You let out a whimper at the way Eddie was staring you down. “You’re so easy, you know that?”

You blushed as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “No I’m not.” You faked confidence as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You practically just whined at me.” His thumb traced the outline of your jaw, “and you’re leaning into my touch. I can feel how badly you want me.” He leaned against you more, forcing his thigh between your legs and you moaned at the friction. You two lunged back at each other hungrily, messily kissing each other and grabbing at each other wherever you could. You caught your hips looking for some more friction and you felt the smirk forming on his face as you could also feel him growing harder in his pants.

“Told you that you were easy. Let’s go before we’re late.” He reached behind you, withdrew his leg, and twisted the door handle to leave your bedroom. “We can finish later tonight, yeah?” He placed a hot kiss below your earlobe, nipping at your neck, and you whined at the loss of contact.

The benefit was as boring as you imagined, but the free wine and beer were enough to keep all of you there for a few hours. Jonathan and Nancy had a stomach bug so they were missing from your table.

Your mom showed you off to some of her friends, and you had to introduce Eddie yourself to them- you knew most of them knew who he was, but you were proud of him and wanted to make sure they knew you two were there together. After you and Robin returned from a bathroom break full of drunk giggles, you sat down in the seat beside Eddie.

“Hi.” You looked at him with a grin.

“Hi, my sweet girl.” He gazed back at you, matching your grin. He wasn’t drinking tonight, but you knew he’d been sneaking out to smoke some by the glaze in his eyes.

“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” You smoothed down a flyaway curl away from around his face and he blushed at your comment.

“You have, and you look beautiful tonight, my dear.” He leaned in to peck you on the lips.

“We gotta stay through my parents' speech, then we can leave.” You told him, this was always the part you hated the most because you and Steve always had to go stand on stage with them. When you were younger you used to always get fussed at on the way home for the way you “misbehaved” on stage, but it was always Steve who was the one poking you or pulling your hair making you two get into a cat fight.

You were shocked at how the night had stayed uneventful- Charlie’s mom kept to herself at her table with empty seats around her since her son and Grace were absent, but you didn’t miss the glances she was shooting at you constantly. Anytime she would, you would just scoot a little closer to Eddie and hold his hand, or peck him on the cheek. Sure, you were putting on a little bit of a show, but the wine was partly to blame for that- it turned you into way more of a flirt than you usually were.

You watched as your dad approached your table, motioning for you and Steve to get up to follow him.

“Here we go, former Hawkins Queen.” He said in a sing-song voice and you rolled your eyes.

“After you, King Steve.” You joked back at him as you were both letting the laughter fly between the two of you.

Your mom started the speech off the same, welcoming everyone and thanking them for their generosity to the community especially after having to rebuild the town this year. You glanced around at all of the made up faces and fake smiles and found one of the only genuine ones in the room- Eddie’s. He was beaming at you with his chin resting on his hand, and he waved at you with a wiggle of his fingers- to which you waved right back. Steve elbowed you in the ribs and you dramatically said “Ow!”

“Sh!” Your dad spoke back at the two of you.

You pinched Steve’s arm, to which he hissed back. Neither of you were paying attention to your parents, but it was fun to act like kids again knowing that you were still rebelling against their wishes for your behavior.

“Bar right after this?” Steve leaned into you with his eyebrows raised, and you nodded quickly.

“Sounds like way more fun than being stuck here with all of these boring losers.” You said a little too loud, and your mom turned back to look at you with a scowl on her face. You quietly apologized and looked out to see Eddie, Robin, Joyce and Hopper all holding back laughter- they must’ve heard you over the microphone.

Five minutes later and your mom was done talking, and you and Steve raced down the stage stairs to get back to your table. Your parents were much more pretentious in the way they exited the stage, waving and stopping to talk to folks as they made their way back to their table.

“C’mon, we’re going out.” You grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled him up out of his seat as you chugged the rest of your wine glass, and Steve and Robin followed you two out. Once the breeze of fresh air hit your face you felt better immediately. You hated the uncomfortable atmosphere of the benefit, and you couldn’t get out of there quick enough. Eddie led you three back to his van where you all piled in and drove to a different dive bar on the edge of Hawkins.

You four stood out like a sore thumb in your attire, despite both boys ditching their ties. Eddie had unbuttoned a few of his buttons on his shirt to reveal his necklaces, and passed his jacket on to you because the night had gotten rather chilly.

“You seem to have a bad habit of forgetting your jackets.” He commented as you sat down at a booth.

“You seem to not have a problem letting me always wear your jackets.” You winked as you tugged it tightly to your body. His heavy hand fell to your thigh where he gave it a squeeze, and let it rest there as the four of you picked up conversation about how boring tonight was.

“I’d rather it be boring than the alternative of what we were anticipating happening.” Steve spoke over his beer glass across the table from you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Robin had switched to beer too, the sketchy bar not offering any wine. “But how great would it have been for Charlie to have gotten arrested tonight? In front of all of those people.”

“I don’t even want to talk about him. I’m having too much fun.” You fretted, and she apologized for bringing him up.

Eddie quickly changed the subject, “You guys coming to the show tomorrow night?”

Steve and Robin shook their heads, “No, we’re both on closing shift for being off tonight.” Steve answered for both of them and you didn’t miss the way Eddie’s face flashed disappointment before he donned a small smile saying it was okay.

You sat there looking at the three of them interacting, never thinking that you’d be here of all places a few years after graduation, with Eddie’s hand on your leg. You never thought your brother would be best friends with Robin Buckley, or even slightly friends with Eddie Munson- much less how close the two of them were. You wanted to hear more about their stories of the Upside Down, because whatever had happened had bonded them so deeply that even though their conversation was unrelated to it, you felt a little out of place listening in by the way they were all getting along so well.

You sipped your drink and got into your thoughts about tonight and how differently it could’ve gone, how different things would’ve been a year ago. You would’ve maybe been back with Charlie, had to go back to his parents house after where he would pass out from drinking too much, or forced you into doing something you didn’t want to do. And now you were here with your brother, his best friend, and your old best friend who was now your boyfriend. All in the matter of a few weeks. Hawkins was your home after all, and tonight made it feel a little more like normal.

“You good?” You noticed Robin and Steve had gotten up, and left you and Eddie at the booth by yourselves. “You’re being awfully quiet, Harrington.”

“Yeah, just a little bit drunk and thinking a little too much.” Your eyelids batted at Eddie who was endearingly searching your face for any sign of any other thought.

“Whatchya thinkin’ about?” He propped his head on his hand as he turned to look at you.

“Just… how close the three of you are, and how I feel a little left out. And how weird it is to be back here, with you, and how quick it all seems.”

“We don’t have to move fast.”

“I don’t think we are, I just feel like I’m intruding on something. You three are fine talking amongst yourselves, I just was… admiring the friendships you have. How… unexpected…? they are.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Eddie.” You placed your hand on his leg and squeezed it, his hand falling over top of yours and guiding it higher up his thigh to where you could feel his dick getting hard.

“I’m high, and horny, and the way you’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes has me ready to take you in the bathroom right here and now. So unless you want me to go rub one out in the bathroom myself- which, I wouldn’t mind- then please come join me while your brother and Robin are getting more drinks and are hitting on the bartenders.” You glanced over his shoulder to where, sure enough, the two were distracted by the girls working behind the bar. You pushed Eddie out of the booth and all but ran to the hallway of single stall bathrooms. You picked the last one on the hall, and said a quiet thank you that there was a working lock on the door.

“Your tits look amazing in this dress, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you all night.” Eddie’s greedy hands grabbed at your side as he worked his way up to your chest, massaging your breasts through the satin material. You couldn’t wear a bra with the straps of the dress so you had opted to go without, and his thumbs rubbed over your nipples, making them go hard against the cool, silky fabric. Your body arched into his as he was kissing across the expanse of your throat, you were sure he’d be leaving marks that would appear in the morning, but you didn’t care about that right now because everything felt so good.

You tugged him into you so you could feel more of his body against yours, and you kissed him hard the second he took his mouth off of your neck. The kiss was sloppy- you were drunk, and he was high, and the two of you wanted each other so badly that neither of you cared about the messiness of the kiss- you just knew you needed him right now.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked you in that low voice again as he pushed your foreheads together, both of you panting, “Or do you not know again?” He mocked, you knew he didn’t mean it, and his confidence was getting you going even more.

“What do you want?” You turned the question on him and watched as his head flew back as you grabbed at his hard length through his black pants. “You want that, yeah? You want me on my knees for you?”

His hands left your body as he ran his fingers over his face, and through his hair, and desperately panted out, “Fuck yes, baby.”

You undid his belt with his dark eyes on you, and he guided you down with his hand on top of your head as you sunk to the floor of the bathroom. He was pumping his thick cock with his other hand as you were at eye level with it, it’s size intimidating you, but you weren’t going to let that get to you. His hand pushed your head forward and you opened your mouth with your tongue splayed out and he let out a moan of pleasure as your tongue made contact with the underside of his cock.

“Oh, that feels so good.” He said as you bobbed your head on his cock, adding a hand to pump him into your mouth as the other hand dug into his thigh to help steady yourself. “Fuck, you wanted this all night too, didn’t you? I wanted to see you on your knees in that bathroom at the dumb fucking banquet but this is so much better.” You looked up at him through your lashes and realized what a goner he was for you.

You moaned as his tip hit the back of your throat, and you popped yourself off of him and kept pumping him with your hand, “Town freak with the town slut? What a pair we would’ve been.” You felt his hands back in your hair as he pushed your mouth back down onto his cock, and he pulled you off sloppily, drool stringing from your mouth to his tip.

“Get up before I blow this load into your mouth, I don’t wanna waste it.” He slowly pumped his dick as he watched you stand up, his head tilted in a cocky manner, “turn around and stick your ass out, Harrington.” He guided you to the tile of the bathroom wall where you obeyed. His hands were quick to pull your dress up over your hips, and he slid your thong to the side, “So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you. I bet this is the shit you love, isn’t it?” You didn’t know what to say as you felt his fingers feel your wet cunt, you were practically dripping already from excitement. “Hawkins High School queen, getting fucked by me in the bathroom of a bar.” With no warning, the tip of his dick replaced his fingers as he shoved himself into your pussy.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You hissed, it almost hurt because he was so wide, and you were so tight. He stilled for a second.

“Sorry, baby, I got a little eager, you okay?” He pulled your sweaty hair back and tucked it behind your ear again. “Tell me when.” He kissed your cheek as he rocked slowly to let you adjust to his size.

“I-I’m good.”

“You sure?” His hands gripped onto your hips as he stayed at a slow pace. “You don’t sound good.”

“I’m too good, you feel so good.” Your forehead met the cold tile as you closed your eyes in bliss at the feeling of being so full.

“There’s my girl.” He said into your ear as he thrusted up into you, your moaning and panting matching each others. His hand snaked around the front of you and started rubbing circles into your clit, “want you to cum on my cock, baby, okay?” You nodded because it was all you could do with how good you felt. Your knees started to feel weak as he picked up the pace of his thrusts into you, and you quickly came undone as he went faster and faster, eventually spilling into you with a few final fucks. His teeth sunk into your shoulder as he stayed inside of you, “Fuck. Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Your head shot back to look at him.

“I can’t believe we missed out on years of this. You felt so good, was everything okay?” He nuzzled into your back as he slowly pulled out of you and you jumped a little at how overly sensitive you were feeling.

“Yeah, it was perfect.” You readjusted your underwear and turned to face him. “You were perfect.”

You kissed him on the lips and he kissed back softly, “Sorry I get a little uh, chatty.” His cheeks were blushing pink and you leaned in and kissed one of them.

“I expected nothing different.” You giggled as you fixed his hair, the post sex-bliss fading away quickly as you realized what you had just done, and where you had done it. “I’ve uh, never… done anything like that before.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Eddie buckled up his belt and helped you smooth your hair and dress down, “but I wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime.”

You grabbed his hand after you checked yourselves out in the mirror and headed back to the table where Robin and Steve had just sat down.

“We don’t need to know.” Robin held her hands up.

“Sorry, I got sick from all the wine. I was going to grab you, but I didn’t wanna take you away from a potential date.”

“Damnit, I lost my money!” Robin slid a $10 bill over to Steve.

“Told you, she can’t hold her wine. I had too many wine calls from Chicago that ended in her throwing up to think differently. Plus, those bathrooms are disgusting.” Steve spoke and slid you a glass of water, with which you hid your blushed cheeks behind while Eddie pulled you into his side with a squeeze.

You all finished a round of water before piling back into Eddie’s van, and he drove Steve and Robin back to her house. You leaned your head on Eddie as he drove the way back to his house, and took a deep sigh.

“You okay? A little worried you might actually get sick now, sweetheart.”

“I’m perfectly fine now. Really good actually. Just tired and ready for bed.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’m ready for round two.” Eddie had his eyebrows raised and you shook your head.

“No way, I’m exhausted. And don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Yes, moooom. I’m just kidding by the way. Unless you wanted to, ‘cause that was really good.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend and closed your eyes as the rumbling of the van relaxed you the rest of the way back.

“I’m gonna stay out and smoke one before heading in. You can pick whatever you want to wear to bed from my drawer.” Eddie lit a cigarette and you scurried inside, but not before you asked him to unzip the back of his dress where his fingers lingered a little too long.

You picked one of his old Hellfire shirts and a pair of boxers, and took them to the bathroom to get changed. After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you climbed into his empty bed and waited for him. It must have been a long time, because next thing you knew he was sneaking into the bed with you with just his boxers on, you had already fallen asleep.

“What took you so long?” You groaned out as your hangover was already starting.

“Had to finish writing something. Didn’t wanna wake you up so I went to the living room.”

“What time is it?” You scratched your head and looked around for a clock.

“Uh, like, four in the morning.”

“Eddie, you need sleep.”

“That’s why I’m here.” He said as he pulled the covers over you two and tucked you into his side. “Goodnight, my girl.”

“‘Night.” You muttered as you yawned and drifted back off to sleep.

-

“Eddie, wake up. Wake up!” You shook a sleeping Eddie who was drenched in sweat and yelling out in his sleep.

“What?!” He sat up abruptly and looked around his room. “Fuck.” He put his head in his hands and pulled at the roots of his hair, “fuck, fuck, FUCK! Shit!”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You placed a hand on his back, and rubbed it to comfort him but he hissed at the contact and leaned away. “Eddie?” You reached out again with a more gentle touch and felt the scars that lined his back. “You okay?”

He shook his head no, and you sat up, pulling him into a hug. He let you, and collapsed into your arms into the hug.

“Bad dream. Bad fucking nightmare.” He muttered to himself and you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“What?”

“I said, I had a really shitty dream and I haven’t had one in a long time. I need to go smoke.” He pushed off the bed and stormed out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You sat there, stunned at his sudden mood change again. You waited a few minutes before you got out of bed and crept into the living room. You saw the telephone cord stretched out to the back porch from the kitchen, and saw Eddie propped against the railing talking on the phone and… laughing?

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Well I’m gonna go. Thanks for talking with me. Buh-bye.” He hung the phone up and finished his cigarette, and embraced you in a hug. You carefully put your arms around him and he let you this time, and you soothingly rubbed his back.

“I’m worried about you and your mood swings, Eddie.”

“Sorry. I just had this dream that you were in the upside down with us, and I couldn’t get you away from vecna, and you were caught-”

“Who?” You quirked your eyebrow at him, hoping for some sort of explanation. “Like, vecna from-”

“Yeah, except way worse. And real. Like really fucking real. And my scars hurt everytime I have these nightmares and they fuck me up for days at a time, and I have to call Steve or someone and-” he stopped his rambling as soon as he realized he was telling you about the past. “Sorry I didn’t mean to talk about it too much.”

“Hey, I’m here for you.” You pulled out of the hug and placed your hands on his soft cheeks that were scattered with patches of facial hair. “You can talk to me too. I know Steve was there, but I’m here now.”

“But you weren’t there.”

“But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I mean it.” You kissed his forehead and watched as he melted into another hug of yours. This time it felt like you were holding him. “Eddie, are you- are you popping a boner right now?” You pulled back from the hug and saw his underwear starting to tent up.

“Sorry, but you’re a beautiful woman hugging me braless in one of my Hellfire shirts. Yes, you’re making me hard.” He blushed at his answer before he squeezed your ass. “Now get inside before I bend you over the porch, it’s time for round two.”

TAGLIST: @secretdryrose @adequate-superstar @briasnow-blog @tinyminxie @boomhauer @corrodedcoffincumslut @dylanmunson @kimmi-kat @rhirojo @prestinalove @kellyxo1 @sweeter-innocence-fics

[thebackroomshost]

More crack Bob headcanons- Yippiee

Oh hell yeah! ROUND UH.....three!!! 

Reminder that these are headcanons and aren’t meant to take seriously! :) Everyone has their own headcanons and chose to believe what they want for a character!

Anyway! Enjoy these silly headcanons! ^^

- Gets distracted rather easily- like bro can be about to murder someone and then whoop- WHAO CANDY!! NOMNOMNOMNOM

- Sure he has a sweet tooth for candy but- he despies smarties (he has seen and witness middle schooler snoot that shit up like its cocaine

- Big fan of rock music. Like when he was in middle school, dawg was the emo band kid IT SHOWS CAUSE HE STILL WEARS EYELINER AND SHIT

- Yes guys- ik he tried to murder Skid and Pump, but despite that, they are his favorites. Don't care if they have parents already. He is their adoptive father

- Clearly doesn't know how friendship works (I am so sorry John and Kasin

- He's like a cat, will run off on all fours if you threaten him with a lemon.    That shit gave him ptsd/j

- Hates brats honestly- if the parent hasn't taught them better, he'll do it himself

- Used to have pet wolves but got them taken away when he went to funni jail- appearntly shotgun has them/j

- Tea. Tea calms the nerves. Y u m

- Can't help to speak what's on his mind. Like, will say the most unhinged thing "If i were to stab myself and it hurts..does that mean i'm weak.." "I realized that my tail is strong enough to strangle someone to death"

- BACK TO HIM BEING A BAND BOI. 100% played the guitar. Still has it- probably can still play it

- Used to have blond hair but dyed it black/hj

- Ah yes. He has a doctor degree...i wonder if he uses it for good....He's banned from most hospitals ...He uses it for good....right Bob....

- ....His favorite rock bands was "Lynyrd Skynyrd"...

- Messy organized. Don't move shit in his room >:( it's organized the way his brain wants it to be

- ................possible fear of cars   w tf

- "Why so serious? Put a SMILE on that FACE of YOURS" "Smile, because it confuses people. That'll never know yer next move"

-  100% had longer hair as a kid. Why was he such a band kid

- Every person he has killed, the names of them were written down in a book and how he killed them, where they were killed, born, history etc

THATS ALL!! BYE BYE!!

[gretavanlace]

Missing Buttons (Part 2)

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, alcohol consumption, fingering (female rec), oral sex (male rec), dacryphilia (for like a second), soft but not quite soft dom, etc

*HUGE shoutout to @loveforighteous whose absolutely sinful ask inspired this. The moment I saw it I knew I was saving it for Missing Buttons Josh. Thank you darling, you’re an angel! ❤️ Everyone go follow her and show some love!

Part 1

“Hey, you up?” Josh’s hand ghosts up and down your bare back, trailing a shivering line along your spine as the sun begins to crawl into the room.

Taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your eyes, you feign sleep and take a moment to drink in your surroundings in the muted, purple light of dawn.

The movie posters tacked neatly to the walls. A strange, eclectic assortment of silver screen alumni: Apocalypse Now, The Grand Budapest Hotel, 12 Angry Men (where did he even find that one?). The Shining – a gift from you, ordered after you’d caught a rescreening of it at the Emagine theater together years ago, and a framed replica of the original promotional poster for 2001: A Space Odyssey. Another gift from you. Christmas? Or perhaps his birthday, you can’t really remember any longer.

Items scattered along his shelves act as dusty artifacts, reminders of the common life he left behind. Props he cared enough to save from various school productions…and while it isn’t displayed, you happen to know that the vest you’d sewn your button to all those years ago, is safely stored away in the bottom of his chest of drawers. Josh has always been sentimental at his core. A wistful soul who sometimes wore his heart on his sleeve, fully displayed and vulnerable; and sometimes tucked it away, hidden and viciously protected when he felt the potential for hurt.

His soft laugh pulls you from your thoughts. “I know you’re awake, Button. You stopped snoring.”

“I don’t snore.” you protest weakly. Of course you snore, and you know it.

“I know you don’t. I lie about the dumbest things. It’s pathological. I should seek help.” he humors, raking his fingers gently through your hair. “Scoot closer, wanna cuddle up to you.”

“Joshua Kiska,” you grin sleepily, tucking into him as you’ve been asked. “Do you treat all of your conquests so sweetly? Do the groupies get the royal treatment like this? Or do you light up a cigarette and tell them to close the door on their way out in true rockstar fashion?”

He wraps his body around yours, a warm and lovely big spoon to make you feel cherished and safe. “Well I tend to send them out as a group afterward. Fifteen or twenty of ‘em head out and let the next batch in as they go.”

“I see.” you smile, pulling his arm tighter around you. “Sounds tiring.”

“Oh, it’s exhausting.” he sighs. “But it’s very rock and roll. I snort cocaine off their asses and guzzle Jack while they blow me, and then out comes the mud shark.”

A laugh, much too loud for the early hour, bursts out of you as you smack his arm “You’re fucking vile!”

“I’m vile?” he laughs along with you. “Why do you even know that story?”

“Everyone knows that story…” you’re softly playing with his fingers now, and thinking about sucking them into your mouth. “Do you think it’s true?”

“Doubt it. Vanilla Fudge claimed it was them, and not Zeppelin. Though they did say Bonham was around and watched the whole thing go down. I personally think they all just thought the rumor was too absurd to dispel.” He has resumed lightly caressing your arm as though he’s whispering the sweetest nothings of love into your ear, rather than discussing the most infamously disgusting groupie tale to ever travel through the veins of the music industry.

“This is all just so romantic.” You tease.

“I think it is, actually.” he pecks a soft kiss upon your shoulder. “Being here with you, all wrapped up, talking about nothing, in the quiet while everyone else sleeps? Yeah, I think it’s very romantic.”

“Josh…” you can’t manage to say much more around the lump in your throat.

“Let’s run away today.” he suggests, that unmistakable Joshua excitement creeping into his tone. “Just for the night. I can take you somewhere nice. We’ll order room service, get wasted off the minibar and fuck each other in a bed big enough to roll around in, in a room where I don’t have to keep you quiet.”

“You know where I really want you to take me?” You’re thankful to be turned away from him so he can’t see the blush rising on your cheeks. “If you’re serious about going somewhere tonight…”

“Of course I’m serious,” he strokes his fingers down the curve of your hip. “Where? Not to be that guy, but money is no object. I hear Iceland is beautiful this time of year.”

You swat his hand, “Shut up, Kiszka. Take me to that place on Wiess St.”

He stutters out a comical sound as if he’s a cartoon character, “The Frankenmuth Motel? What the fuck, Button? Are you serious? That place is a shit hole.”

You try your hardest to hide the snark in your tone, but fail. “It was nice enough for you and Madison Cates.”

“Madison Ca–” he interrupts himself with an obnoxious laugh and rolls you over to face him. He beams down at your scrunched up face with a wildly pleased expression and glittering eyes. “My sweet little Button, are you jealous?”

You avoid his gaze and tug one of his curls in gentle punishment for embarrassing you. “No.”

“Yes you are.” he sing-songs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Fine. Maybe. But only because I went to that dance with some guy you couldn’t have paid me to spend the night in a motel with.”

“You went with Jake.” he points out.

“Like I said.” You nod.

“You wanna know what happened between Maddie and I at the Frankenmuth?” he whispers, dragging his finger soothingly down the bridge of your nose.

You feel horrified “Absolutely not. I’d rather shove bamboo shoots underneath my fingernails.”

“Always knew you had a flare for drama.” he pecks at your nose, still petting it. “We get to the room…”

“Josh!” you snap.

“Would you just shut up and listen?” he teases, lips now brushing over yours. “We get there and she’s just all over me, but not really in a good way, kinda sloppy. Still, I’m 17, so I’m not complaining.”

“Wow, this is painting a lovely picture for me,” you deadpan, “I don’t feel like punching you at all.”

“She stumbles her way along until she’s on her knees in front of me, and I’m losing it, thinking I’m about to get my first blow job. Like, this is it, right?” his mouth is peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Josh, stop.” you feel like you could cry…the yarn he’s weaving is sickening.

He continues on like you haven’t spoken a word. “When she finally gets her hands on the button of my pants and looks up at me, her face is literally green. I thought that was just something people said. She couldn’t get up fast enough so she just puked right there at my feet. Half of it ended up on my dress shoes, had to rinse it out of the cuffs of my pants in the sink.”

“But you said…”

“No, I didn’t.” he protests, licking softly at your neck. “You all just assumed. I never argued because I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. I fell asleep that night in a room that smelled like vomit, thinking about you.”

“That’s the grossest compliment I’ve ever been paid.” you giggle, relieved that the night you had stewed over for years, had played out much differently than you’d imagined.

“I aim to please.” He teases, rolling his hips to grind into your thigh..

“How about I finish what our poor Madison started, hmm?” you curl your tongue over his jawline and reach down between the two of you to take him in your fist.

“Yeah?” the word shudders out of him as he thrusts gently into your grip. “You want me in your mouth?”

“Come on, Josh…” you urge, sounding a little more desperate than you care for.

He allows you to push him away and roll with his body until he’s on his back and you’re balanced on top of him, but as you begin to kiss your way down his chest, a soft knock on the bedroom door stops your heart.

“Go away!” Josh hisses toward the intrusion.

“Josh!” you admonish in a nearly silent whisper.

“It’s Jake.” he sighs, twin telepathy on full display.

The knock comes again, more insistent this time.

“Get away from my door, Jake, or I swear to god...”

“No,” Jake’s fervent reply comes quietly. “Sam’s not in his bed. I need Button.”

Your eyes go wide, but Josh appears unbothered. “She’s in Ronnie’s room.”

“I’m not stupid, or deaf. My bedroom was right next to yours last night just like it always is, idiot. We share a wall.” Jake sounds hungover and frustrated. “Button, seriously…help!”

You pull yourself off of Josh, batting his hands away when they reach for you, and tug his old, threadbare robe from its hook and around your body before swinging the door open.

It’s time for Jake’s eyes to go wide this time, when you yank him into the room. “Would you pipe down before you wake everyone up?”

“What’s goin’ on in here?” he taunts, a sly grin spreading across his face as you reach forward to smooth down his tangled bed-head. “Button, I’m crushed…I always thought it would be you and me, and here you are, breaking my heart in two with my lesser half.”

“Jacob.” you roll your eyes with a deep sigh, he isn’t serious in the least, you’re a sister to him. He’s just never been able to resist a jab where he sees opportunity.

“Yeah, yeah…” he rolls his eyes in return. “You could do better, though. Anyway, Sam?”

“Did you check the floor between his bed and the wall?” you ask, eyes on Josh as he stares up at the ceiling, hands cradled casually behind his head like this is the most normal scene in the world.

“Yep.”

“Okay,” you pause, trying to think like Sammy. “The basement? Maybe he went down to pester Danny?”

Jake frowns, “Checked there too.”

“How do you four survive on tour without me?” you sigh in annoyance. They are children.

“Barely, and with great struggle. You should come along and be our tour mother.” he eyes slide over to his twin. “Josh, I’m sure you’d be into that, you’ve got that whole ‘mama’ thing going on.”

“Lets not forget that my bunk is located directly above yours, Jacob.” Josh quips back, turning his gaze to you with a wink. “You wanna get on his good side? Call him Sir.”

As you watch an uncharacteristic blush crawl up Jake’s neck, it suddenly dawns on you in a flash of genius “The back deck. He likes the cedar smell and the crickets underneath. Bet he woke up and stumbled out there last night.”

“You’re a fuckin’ legend, Button.” Jake plants a kiss on your forehead and hurries off to check on his little brother, though he claims to be too cool to really care.

“Come back to bed, my love.” Josh smiles from his stretched out perch, but just before you can close the door, you catch sight of Karen rounding the corner in the hall.

“Morning, sweetie,” she’s dressed and put together, ready to tackle her day. “Come help me in the kitchen? If we don’t feed them, they’ll start downing Coronas for sustenance.”

“Gonna do that anyway, ma.” Josh calls out as you pull his door closed.

Karen says nothing about the bedroom you’ve been in that clearly isn’t Ronnie’s, nor does she comment on your robe — or rather, Josh’s robe — and you thank God for small favors as you pad along behind her to help cook for the crowd.

~

Later, he catches you as you're leaving the bathroom, once again swaddled in his robe after your shower.

Slipping his hand under the worn terry cloth, he snakes his arm around your waist, lips tickling across the shell of your ear. “Get dressed and meet me at the car in ten. I’m stealing you away to the Bates Motel where we will both surely be murdered in the shower.”

“Oh, you do know how to sweep a girl off her feet, don’t you, Kiszka?” you tease back, pulling him in a little closer.

“Mhmm,” he nuzzles your ear again. “Did you know that Psycho was the first film to feature a toilet flushing?”

“Romance and dirty talk? Yes, please. Say more things about bathroom fixtures.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You like that? Gonna plug the sink at the motel, fill it with ice, and use it to keep our drinks cold, baby. Does that do it for you?”

“Get the hell out of here…” you laugh, shoving him off, “I don’t even want to go with you now.”

“Sure you don’t,” he lands a gentle swat on your ass and then starts off down the hall. “Ten minutes, love.”

~

He drops your bags at his feet and surveys the room with a deep breath, hands on his hips. “I can’t believe I brought you here. Do you have a Hepatitis kink, Button? Shag carpeting? Bed bugs?”

“Hepatitis.” you answer seriously, though clearly joking, “and don’t kink shame me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Wait’ll I let you in on a couple of mine.”

You plop down on the bed and watch him amble around the time capsule of a room. “Yeah? Are you just a sexual deviant underneath it all?”

“Yes.” he confirms matter of factly as he examines the clunky, straight out of the 80’s, television.

“Really?” you can’t help the giddy curiosity edging into your tone, “So tell me, what is my sweet, innocent, Joshua into?”

His eyes find yours, lips pursed to suppress a smirk, when he sees the inquisitiveness in your gaze, “I’m afraid I’ll have to reveal my secrets slowly, love. Wouldn’t want to scare you off.”

He holds your stare and you sink into his chocolate eyes until he startles you out of your daze with a sharp clap. “Alright, I’m going to get ice.” Yanking the plastic bucket off the dresser, he disappears with a casual, “Be right back.” as though you’ve been discussing the weather.

When he returns, he pretends he doesn’t notice that you’ve slipped into a t-shirt stolen from his bag. He ignores the way the fabric is stretched thin and tight over your breasts, in favor of dangling you on a string a little longer as he dumps the ice into the sink and begins shoving bottles of Killians down into the cubes.

“Some guy tried to sell me meth out there.” He calls over his shoulder as he works.

You roll your eyes with a smile, “That didn’t happen.”

“Yes it did.” he straightens and dries his hand on a questionable looking towel. “And before you ask; yes, I copped some, and no, I will not share. Get your own.”

“You’re so dumb.” you take the beer he holds out and then pull him close by the wrist, landing a tiny kiss on his cheek.

“Kinda weird foreplay, love,” he hums, lacing his hand loosely around your throat. “But alright, I’m game. Insult me. Tell me I’m dumb again.”

“You’re dumb.” you play along as he sets his beer aside and crawls on top of you after taking the bottle out of your hand as well. “Stupid, even.”

“Yeah?” his voice has dropped, both in pitch and volume. “We’ll see who’s stupid once I’ve fucked all the thoughts right out of your pretty little head, sweetheart.”

A breath hitches into your lungs, causing a self-satisfied grin to flit across his beautiful lips for a blink. “Does someone like that? You want to be my cock dumb whore in this shitty little motel room?”

A quiet yes is all you can manage as you grip his forearms on either side of your head, staring up at him in lustful wonder.

“I’m not happy that you wouldn’t let me take you somewhere nice, you know.” it sounds like there might be a hint of actual upset rooted in the comment.

“I wanted to come here.” you remind him.

“All because you were jealous.” he shakes his head. “I bet you’ve been dwelling on this for years haven’t you? Picturing all the things she and I might have done to each other behind a door you couldn’t see past. Did you picture me fucking her into the mattress? Headboard banging against the wall, giving it to her just right? Making her call my name? Making her cum?”

“Shut up.” you lean forward and bite down on his shoulder through the shirt you wish he would take off.

“Did you?” he insists, pulling you away, fingers tangled in your hair.

“Yes, alright?” irritation bubbles up inside you. “Are you happy now?”

“Yes. I am, actually.” he’s disgustingly smug as his hand creeps down to slip between your legs. “You want me to make you happy, Button? Right now?”

You nod as your teeth sink into your bottom lip in an attempt to quell the anxious want flaring inside you.

“Words, pretty girl.” he whispers, coaxing you along. “You know so many, let’s use them, yeah? Can you speak up for Daddy? Hmm? Can you talk to me?”

“Fuck…”

The profanity whines shakily out of you and he strokes your cheek with one hand, and your clit over your panties with the back of the other. “That really does it for you, doesn’t it, Button? You wanna be Daddy’s good girl?”

Fighting the urge to writhe and beg incoherently, you reach up and dip your fingers into his curls, tugging on them a little, the way he loved so much last night. “I’ll be anything you want me to be, Josh. I’m yours. I always have been.”

He groans, sounding pained, as at last he eases his fingers under the elastic of your panties “Don’t make me feel all sentimental, sweetheart. Not when I’ve just gotten my hands on you. On this pretty wet pussy…fuck, baby…soaked little cunt. You want it that bad, Button?”

His filthy prose makes your head cloud, “Are we indulging in one of those kinks of yours right now? Do you like saying things you shouldn’t to every pretty girl who spreads her legs for you, or am I special?”

An electrified thrill sparks hot in your chest when his eyes snap to yours – you’ve managed to surprise him. He recovers in an instant. “I’m a talker, you know that. Sex is no different…but you’re beyond special, Button. You’re my special girl, aren’t you? My favorite. My love.”

You arch a single eyebrow challengingly, “What was that you were saying about feeling sentimental?”

“See, here is where your inexperience with me shows,” his fingers slide inside you as he watches your face relax in pleasure. “You know how I get on stage? What is it that you call me? Oh yes — a cocky fuck?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, not really listening because all you can think about is his long, warm fingers dancing along just where you want them most.

“Well, it’s worse when my cock is hard. Much worse.” That gets your attention.

You can practically feel your pupils blow with desire as you begin jerking on his shirt roughly. “Take this off,” you reach down and yank at the waist of his pants. “Take all of this fucking off.”

His hand abandones your cunt and you mewl like a starved stray cat until he yanks at the collar of the shirt you swiped from his bag. “You too. Let me see those pretty tits again.”

In a breath, you’re skin to skin, and you decide this is how you want to stay forever…laid out beneath him with his flawless, soft skin pressed against your own. His cock rests, hot and unbelievably hard, against your hip, and suddenly you’ve never wanted anything so desperately in your life.

“Put it in my mouth, Josh. Please, I want to feel you…I wanna taste you.” you’re begging without shame. It can’t be helped. The way he makes you feel – the heat pulsing through your system until it’s like you have live wires for veins, wicked and euphoric, twisting and shaking wildly just below the surface of your skin – you’d ask for it proudly in front of a crowd…you trot out on stage and make your request directly into the microphone.

“That’s twice today you’ve asked me to fill that sweet mouth of yours. Do you just enjoy sucking dick, or am I special?” he parrots your words back to you.

“You’re very special…” you reach down and sweep your thumb over his swollen tip and then shoot him a devious look, “I also happen to love sucking dick.”

That does it. A feral cloud darkens his stare as a sound growls out of him to match, at the mere thought of your mouth taking someone else and his palm is wrenched around your throat “Don’t piss me off right now, sweetheart, it’s too soon for all that.”

Oh! What a lovely little shock. Has this Josh been hiding here all along? Watching you, clocking your every move like a predator stalking innocent prey? Hot and ravenous behind those doe eyes and gentle grins?

He turns onto his back and pulls you right along with him, sinking you into a deep, breath-stealing kiss as you melt into him from above. You’re panting and rocking your cunt along the length of his cock when he tears your mouth from his. “You gonna make me feel good, pretty girl?”

His thumb rests at your lips as you nod, and you suck it slowly in preview before kissing your way down his body. He is so soft and warm, skin like flushed silk gliding beneath your mouth. You can’t imagine how his velvet cock will feel slipping back and forth along your tongue, but you’re eager to find out.

A barely audible call of your name, your real name, gasps out of him just ahead of a strangled moan when your tongue, wet and searching, spirals over the pillowy head of his cock. Teasing him until his hands find your hair. You swallow him until he’s nudging his way down your throat, with you gagging softly around him.

“Shit!” a shiver shakes his shoulders as you hollow your cheeks on the upward pull. “So fucking good for me, Button. You want to be sweet and make me cum don’t you?” you nod feverishly with a moan that vibrates around him. “Yeah, you do. You’re working so hard for it. Taking me right into your little throat.”

He slides in further and tears collect in your eyes and roll down your cheeks, “Oh, look at my pretty baby crying on my cock. Am I just so, so deep, sweetheart?” You nod and press the flat of your tongue against him. “What if I cum right in your mouth? What if I let you have it and dry your tears while you swallow me? Would that make it all better? Would that make my girl happy?”

Again, you nod and sink down until your lips are wrapped around the base and his body convulses, doubling over while his forearms wrap around your head to keep you still. “Don’t move.” He orders, sound ragged and out of breath. Flustered and out of control. He waits a beat, collecting himself, and then wrenches you off his cock and onto his lap.

“Take what you want, my love.” he whispers, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. The switch leaves you reeling, and you suspect that was his intent. The grin he’s trying to hide now, proves it.

Two can play that game, you think as you lift your hips and drop your gaze down to his slick, glistening cock. “Line it up.” you order, watching him twitch against his stomach at your demand.

He wraps his fist around the base and watches with hooded, intense eyes as you slowly, so fucking slowly, sink down around him. Hissing and whining at the delicious stretch…adoring the sting of it, the way he stuffs you completely full, until every movement, every breath, is Josh Josh Josh.

“So fucking perfect…” he growls low and quiet. “So fucking warm and wet. Dripping all over me. Got me whipped already, don’t you Button? I’d crawl for it, baby. I’d get right down on my knees and beg for a single kiss of your angelic little cunt on my cock.”

“Yeah?” your head lolls back as you begin to move, fucking him slow and steady as his words drift over you like a cool, crisp breeze after you’ve been cooped up in a stuffy room.

“Yeah.” he can’t take his eyes off you as you move above him, with your delicate left hand now kneading and squeezing at your own breasts, your right working tight circles into your clit.

You fuck him harder, faster, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot inside you, right where you need him most. “Fuck, Josh…” it rides out of you no more than a needy whimper. “You feel so good inside me, your cock...fuck, fuck.”

His hands squeeze into your thighs, a silent warning for you to slow down. He isn’t ready to cum yet, he doesn’t want this to end. You take note of this. Of course you do, you two have always traveled on the same wavelength and now is no different – you simply choose to ignore it in favor of chasing the orgasm you’re headed straight for.

Again, his fingers dig into your flesh, and again, you pay him no mind and continue working yourself into a writhing, heaving, moaning mess above him, until suddenly, his hands are curled around the nape of your neck, aggressively jerking you down until your forehead is pressed against his own, his hips now snapping his cock up into you hard and fast.

“Is this how you want to be fucked?” he rasps, growling the words out close to your open mouth. “Like a whore with no regard for what I want? Fine. Take it. Take it, baby, since you needed it so bad.”

His hands twist into your hair painfully, but you love it. Fuck, you love it. “Open your eyes,” he demands with a blissful tug “Fucking look at me.”

Your eyes meet and with a rumbling cry ripping out of his chest, he spills into you, hot and pulsing.

“Yes…” the word pours out of you like honey, languid and dripping, as he twitches and fills you. “Give it to me, Josh. Inside. I want it, I want it, I want it…”

“You have it, Button…it’s yours.”

His end sends you crashing into your own, and he fucks you through it, holding you now by the hair and chin, keeping your eyes locked together as he murmurs filthy words in a sweet tone that doesn’t match up with the obscenity of it all.

He holds you gently when you collapse down against his chest, running a hand up and down your spine and petting at your hair while your breathing slows and syncs up together. “You okay, Button my love? Still with me?” He finally whispers when he trusts himself to speak without sounding choked and ruined.

“I’ve never been more okay in my entire life.” you smile, sleepily kissing and licking the sweat from his chest.

“Jake was right, you know.” he sighs, after a long stretch of comfortable silence. “You should come with us. On tour, I mean.”

“Josh,” you avoid his eyes and trace circles along his skin with the pad of your fingers. “I have a job, and an apartment, and friends…my family is here, and –”

“So?” he cuts you off. “You can have a job with us. You can be tour assistant to the band or whatever,” he waves his hand around as he makes up a title off the top of his head. “You already do that kind of…how often does your phone ring with one of us on the other end over something stupid? Might as well get paid for it. And yeah, you have friends here, sure…but lets be real, we’re your friend friends…the one’s that really matter.”

“But…”

Again, he continues on, off and running on a Joshua tangent. “Family, Button? Family? Do I even need to bother with that one?”

He’s right, you avoid your family like the plague.

“I can’t walk away from you now.” he sounds so small and sad that you tilt your face up and lock in on those eyes you’ve been avoiding. “It broke my heart before, every single time…but now? I think it might kill me. Come with us. Come with me.”

You roll to your back beside him and grab your now lukewarm beer off the end table. After a long pull on it you offer it to him. He always had a knack for talking you into anything, though this one wasn’t such a magic act, you want to go with him just as badly.

“Alright, Kiszka.” you sigh, taking his hand in yours. “I’ll come with you.”

A wide, gorgeous grin breaks across his face. “You and me, Button.”

You return that trademark smile and nod, “You and me, Josh.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @gardenofgreta @greta-van-chaos @theweightofstardust @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @dvrkblooms @kiszkathecook @shesalrightshesouttasight @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @kdarling1 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @spicedandicedtea @gretavanflowerpower @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @loofypoofy @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @prophetofthedune @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @alisonwonderland29 @agirlwithmanytastes @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @dakotadovato @avagvf @joshkiszkas @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @xserenax-13 @gretasmokerising @tripthelight-fanfic @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet

[stellasfictionalworld]

part 2.

part 3

a/n: i got so excited i decided to right a second part already. reader is referred to as cupid. 

reader x andre anderson 

cw: (i mean you’ve watched the show so) implied sex, swearing, under age drinking, fluff, use of drugs, implied sexual assault

word count: 1,606

Your roommate is Ashley Carter. You two hit it off well, she’s been taking the Performing Arts courses. Although, you’ve suggested she might as well join Hero Management since she saved your ass last year. When your Student Rating skyrocketed after your fuck fest, she was right there beside you. Excited for you, and helped you point yourself in the right direction. She helped you find a marketing team, and read through contracts to make sure you weren’t getting scammed. It made sense, considering Ashley was taking some law classes on the side with her Performing Arts courses. 

Yet she loved the big screen, and it was made for her. Her power was that she could sparkle, like literally. Edward Cullen style, without the need for blood. She very much could blind the shit out of you or act as a disco ball. Anyhow, you two made the cutest insta posts together. Cupid and Glitter. 

Your name was called as you pulled a knee-high sock. You greeted your roommate as she flopped onto her bed. 

“Look at you,” you could hear the smile on her face. “You think you’ll get to be one of them? I can see it already,” she said.

You turned to your roommate and shook your head but you had a small smile on your face.

“I’d like to get to know them first,” you said, your heart sinking. You wouldn’t be used, not again. You put on the rest of your outfit and posed for Ashley. “What do you think,” you said. 

“Cuuuute,” she said, snapping a picture. 

“Thanks,” you winked. “What are your plans by the way?” you asked. 

“I think I’m gonna see Jen again,” she said. 

You grinned widely and your brows shot up. “You’re gonna find love before I do,” you said and her face started to get red. 

“Get out of here,” she waved you off. “Go see Andre,” she added. 

“Okay, but tomorrow. Drinks and stories,” you pointed at her and she nodded. 

…

It wasn’t till you got there, that you realized this was Dusty’s place. You’d gone to other house parties, but this place was a mad(crack)house. The shit that happened here, most of the time no one would remember by morning. Your stomach churned as you followed a group ahead of you. They opened the door and you were immediately hit with the smell of sweat and weed. The mad(fuck)house was booming with life. Dancing, snorting up cocaine, makeout sessions, and other crude shit happened right in front of your eyes. Someone bumped into you and you took that as a sign to move. 

You texted Andre, saying you’d made it inside. You licked the cherry gloss on your lips as you made your way around the house. You found the drinks and grabbed the first thing you saw. Your fingers trembled as you tried to get the top off. 

“Fuck,” you muttered in annoyance. The rancid smell of vomit hit your nose already. 

“Need help with that?” someone asked beside you. 

“Yeah actually,” you looked up with a sweet smile. Your blood went ice cold when you recognized the blonde you were looking at. Rufus, you’d heard rumors about him, they usually involved non-consent situations. A part of you told you to run, but you kept up the smile. Offering him the bottle and he cracked it open with ease. 

“Thank you,” she said and took a step around him.

“No problem,” he blocked your escape, putting a hand on the kitchen counter. “You’re Cupid right?” he asked. 

“The one and only,” you sipped your drink, “and you are?” you asked. 

“Rufus, sure you haven’t heard of me?” he asked with a slightly higher pitch. 

You pressed your lips together and knitted your brows together. You were picking at his ego on purpose, it’s what he deserved after all. 

“I think the name rings a bell, do we have a class together?” you asked. 

He laughed dryly, eyeing your tits now. Chills ran down your spine, fucking wanting to run. You were in his range, he could catch you the minute you turned around. 

He started to talk again, and your phone buzzed. 

“Sorry, give me a sec,” you said and you didn’t hear a response. 

Andre

10:03 pm

just got here, where are you?

You swallowed thickly as you typed away.

10:03

Kitchen, with Rufus. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” you said with your fake smile. 

“No worries,” he stepped closer to you. Your nose scrunched up, overwhelmed by his cologne and alcohol breath. “What do you say, we go upstairs? I know you’re kinda on break, but c’mon,” he laughed, licking his lips. “I know you’re dying for some,” he finished his sentence. You would have gagged on the spot if not for the fact he thought you wanted this. He was giving you a choice, not mind fucking you yet. 

“I just got here,” you cracked a smile, “I wanna party a little first,” you said.

He did not like that. He stared at you, hungry for the parts of you that everyone knew about. You might as well have been naked, people openly talked about your body last year. Everyone knew about your magic touch. Rufus wanted more than a taste, and you were going to give it to him. Right to his crotch. 

Before your fist collided with anything, a hand wrapped around your hip. Your brows shot up and you looked over your shoulder. Andre pressed himself against you and smiled at you. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said, he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “Rufus,” he said darkly, immediately Rufus cleared his throat. He backed the fuck up and eyed you then him. There were flashes of anger and fear between each glance. Then he muttered something before disappearing with a bottle of beer. 

You let out a breath of relief and blinked away the wetness in your eyes. 

“You okay? Did he do anything to you?” he asked, staring down the hallway Rufus had escaped with. You wondered if he hoped to have laser eyes at that very moment. You took in a breath and chugged the beer. 

“He didn’t, thanks to you,” you put down the bottle and grabbed a cold one. “Thank you,” you looked up at him and he nodded.

“It’s my fault if–” he said, and you shushed him. 

“Don’t. Nothing happened, it’s all good,” you smiled.

“Right,” he took in a sharp breath through his nose, “just stay with me. I’ll make sure he doesn't even fucking look at you,” he looked down at you. 

It was sweet, he got so pressed on your behalf. You could handle yourself, but sometimes you still needed saving. Though it wasn’t the first time you dealt with guys like Rufus, considering your last year in God U. Andre simmered down but hadn’t moved his hand the whole time. 

“Let’s party, yeah?” you said. “Didn’t you say your friends were here too?” you asked. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” his shoulders had dropped, and he gave you his iconic gorgeous smile. His hand finally slipped away, but you swear you saw his fingers flinch when he let go. You followed him, and he pointed to the group sitting outside. They were sitting on picnic chairs, around a foldable table. You immediately appreciated the fresh air, it was a bit cold making you close up your cardigan. 

There were a few people outside in the pool, some chilling outside of it. It wasn’t too noisy though. The table was filled with laughter as Andre and you took a seat. They’d saved an extra seat just for you. 

“Hey,” Cate greeted you first, then Luke did, and you received a nod from Jordan. “You two okay?” she asked with brows furrowed. Her big blue eyes twinkled because of the fairy lights, she looked like a Disney princess. One who looked so hot smoking a blunt before passing it to Luke.

“It’s fine.”

“Rufus was talking to her.”

You both blurted at the same time.

Your brow shot up and immediately the mood was killed. 

“Shit, did he do anything to you?” Luke immediately asked.

“No he didn’t, luckily Andre saved me,” you bumped shoulders with him. He gave you a small smile, but something told you he wasn’t going to let this go any time soon. Cate had gone quiet with a distant look in her eyes before lighting a new blunt. She handed it to you with a small smile. You dragged out the blunt and immediately melted into your chair. 

Time passed, and all of you discussed how classes were hard. You and Cate disagreed though. Andre needed saving before his grade dropped, so in between drinks. You’d offered to help him, tutor instead of giving him the answers. He seemed surprisingly excited by the idea, saying you should. His friends were rolling their eyes and grinning. 

You were so distracted with other shit, like how the sun umbrella looked like it was melting. Jordan had given you some good shit, and you’d cried to them. Saying how good this shit was, and how grateful they were your provider. They’d toppled over laughing in their fem form with you. You both eventually just couldn’t stop laughing next to the pool. 

Then you woke up in your bed. The drapes were open, causing you to groan. You fell out of bed and shut them immediately. Then you collapsed back onto your bed. You touched your jacket, realizing it wasn’t even yours. Then you sat up. 

“Holy shit,” you said. 

[walalppper]

Ecstasy - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Rafe Cameron x Reader. (Reader is 19 years old) warnings/tags: 18+, obsessive!Rafe, violence, physical/verbal abuse, toxic relationship, both abusing of drug substances.

Disclaimer: For this mini-story, I got inspired by the fair scene from Euphoria! I'm not trying to romanticize toxic relationships or drug abuse. If any of the topics are familiar to you, seek help, please.

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Ecstasy

She made him feel like a god around her, giving her just the right amount of attention and care, things he never had. In return he loved and protected her, buying expensive accessories to make her happy. They met once at a Kook party, she was the new girl in Outer Banks. Beautiful, funny, intelligent, and interesting. Having a unique style and she caught the eye of most of the people around the town. Everyone wanted her, but no one could have her beyond Rafe, which made him happy. That’s where it all started, even dating a drug addict she managed to be five months sober, and soon he was going the same way, starting to reduce his daily amount of cocaine, to only doing it occasionally at parties. He did it all for love, for her love.

Tonight, was a special night, the annual carnival, sponsored by who? Ward Cameron. It was an important night in which, Ward specified directly to Rafe and Sarah for them to be on their best behavior the whole night. Sarah was out with her friends, probably even hanging out with the Pogues and Rafe? Spreading the word about where to buy drugs. “Yeah, you see the hot dogs truck? Ask for whatever you want there.” Rafe smiled giving a small pat on the guy's back as he walked away happily. Heading to the back of the food truck, he found Barry beginning to count the small plastic bags that held the substance. “Alright, keep on running that mouth around country club. It’ll get us some money.” Barry laughed. “Yeah uhh…that’s the good shit right?” Rafe smiled nervously, only gaining a small nod from the dealer. “Alright…hey hm…just promise me you won’t sell it to her yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck, waiting for an answer from Barry. Giving him a side eye, the black-haired man looked confused. “She’s been sober for five months alright…? Not trying to ruin that for her.” Letting a small giggle escape from his mouth, Barry laughed. “I couldn’t give more than a fuck, but sure lover boy…” Mocking the passion Rafe felt for that girl. “Alright, call me if you need me,” Rafe said as he left the food cart. Feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket, he picked it up. Hearing her sweet voice through the phone.

“Where the fuck are you? No-. I’m by the ferries wheel, you’re not here.” She said in an annoying tone, sighing as she made her way out through the crowd of people surrounding her. Titling her head to the side, she hung up as his tall figure approached her. “How the fuck was I supposed to know there were two ferries' wheels, hm?” He asked, eyeing her up and down. “Be smarter next time.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, looking back at him. “Why are you dressed like that…? You know my dad is featuring the main event, this is the big shit-are you dumb?” He let out, hoping she would feel embarrassed and change into something to his liking. Letting out a chuck, she crossed her arms over her chest. “If this is as a big event as you say then why are you selling drugs here?” “Shut the fuck up.” “No, you shut it.” She argued back, even laughing in his face. “My parents already don’t like you, okay?” Her confident expression from earlier dropped as she let out a faint: “What…?” “I’m not doing this today. Go home, get changed, and come back looking like a decent person.” He spitted out, walking away. Tears were starting to form in the corner of her eyes, now she was mad, furious even. She had a pretty shitty day, and now she was having an even worse night. His words were craved in her ears. “Asshole…” she whispered under her breath.

Rafe on the other hand was starting to get ready for his family’s presentation. He was starting to think of the things he said to her. Maybe he was an asshole, but at least he was honest right? “Where is that girlfriend of yours?” Rose asked. “She’s not coming…” Rafe answered fixing his tie against the mirror.

“Oh thank god…” Rose muttered under her breath, receiving a quick glare from Rafe.

On the other hand (Y/n) met up with a friend, and that friend had a great idea. “Hey…wanna do Molly…?”

Brianna offered, shaking the small plastic bag in her hand. “Bitch you read my mind…” (Y/n) chucked, getting up from her seat.

xxxxxx

“That same night he called me crying!” She laughed with Brianna, both mocking Rafe at that point. “You could do so much better babe…” Brianna said between giggles, brushing (Y/n)’s hair gently between her fingers. “I could…but you know what’s even better…? She glanced over at Brianna.

“Revenge.”

She was thinking of all the possibilities, she wanted to bring him down, his whole family even. Looking over to the podium that was recently placed in the center of the fair. People were starting to gather around to hear the so waited speech. Smirking she quickly got up and made her way through the crowd. Impulsiveness was taking over her, this was the perfect moment to make him pay. She wanted to embarrass him and his whole family in front of those ‘well-known’ people.

“It was a pleasure everyone…” Ward Cameron waved at the people. Pushing people out of her way, she was at the front of the podium now. Right in front of them, making eye contact with Rafe. He looked terrified like he already knew what was about to go down. ‘(Y/n) don’t.’ He mouthed to her. Smirking she started clapping in the middle of Ward Cameron’s speech. Which made everyone silent staring at her. “I’m sorry for interrupting but I just wanted to say congratulations…” She smiled. “Congrats on putting together such a fun fair! I just got one question…What is your main income for this? The stolen gold from-”

Quickly grabbing her by the arm, Rafe took her out of the crowd and into an alley. “Are you fucking insane? Are you stupid even?!” He yelled at her. Grabbing onto her chin, he looked into her eyes, he was shocked. Her pupils were like two giant balls. “You’re high…” he whispered. “So? I know you’ve been buying coke again.” She spitted out. Glaring at her he shook his head no. “Yeah and I’m not the one who relapsed and made one hell of a show in front of everyone! So shut the fuck up…” He tightened the grip around her face. Letting out a frustrated sigh he let go of her. Turning his back on her, rubbing his hand against his forehead to think of something to tell her. It was mostly his fault, he knew it, he just didn’t want to admit it. Now she was starting to feel bad, coming back to her senses, she wrapped her arms around his chest. Pressing her chest against his back, she whispered. “I’m sorry…” That was enough to melt his heart. Turning around he pulled her to him. “Don’t ever pull something like that again…” He whispered to her. She nodded, running her hand up and down the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. It was a matter of time before he crushed his lips against hers, hands roaming all over her body. He was dreaming of all the possibilities, kissing all over her neck by now. Crashing against the nearest wall, she pulled a bit away.

“Do you love me…” He whispered under his breath, looking up to meet her beautiful (e/c) eyes. Caressing his cheek gently, she placed a kiss on his lips before whispering back to him.

“Yes…but we’re not good for each other…”

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 11: Acquiesce (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: language, a bit violent (a cricket bat if you know what I mean) a few spelling mistakes, maybe.

Words: 1681 (it's a bit shorter than usual, on purpose ;))

Summary: Oasis are in Rockfield Studios to record their second album. It goes well until Liam fucks up...

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 11 ! I hope you will like it. I chose Acquiesce as the song of the chapter to make it a bit ironic, knowing what happens in the chapter. I won't be publishing next weekend, I won't be at home. I'm going to spend Christmas with some members of my family, and I intend so enjoy this time with them.

Love y'all, have a BEAUTIFUL and SPECIAL Christmas and take care of yourselves !

Enjoy !

“Because we need each other We believe in one another And I know we're going to uncover What's sleepin' in our soul Because we need each other We believe in one another I know we're going to uncover What's sleepin' in our soul What's sleepin' in our soul».

In January 1995, Oasis fired Tony. The man was often fucking up during gigs, so they chose another drummer. That’s where Alan White, or Whitey as we all call him, made its appearance. And even if I was sad for Tony who had become a friend, Whitey was far better than him.

And he would be a great help for the new album. Because everyone, except him and I, was on cocaine or drunk most of the time, and he was really a great drummer.

May 14th 1995-Rockfield Studios:

Here we were in May 1995, in one of the studios that had welcomed good rock bands. Oasis were becoming iconic.

For what would become (What’s the story) Morning Glory?, Noel was constantly composing and writing lyrics until very late. Oasis were recording a song per day. Sometimes, I had to stop Noel for him to rest.

Though we also had good moments, like when we were playing football, when we watched the Blackburn vs Liverpool match, where everyone went crazy, like Liam who was playing with the extinguisher. It was our way of cheering, to have a laugh. Weird, but fun. After the match, Liam went to the pub. It was on May 14th 1995. I perfectly remember it, because this same night, Liam fucked up.

Noel and I were in studio. As per usual, he was writing a song, while I was smoking a joint, drinking a cup of tea and listening to music through the radio. At a moment, the radio broadcast Blur songs with the famous game “Whoever calls first wins tickets for a forthcoming concert.

I hated Girls and boys, Parklife wasn’t bad, but I liked To the end. I imagined myself dancing a slow with Noel. I unconsciously started to hum the melody, and I didn’t feel Noel’s gaze on me until the second chorus of the song and took my headphones off my ears.

What? I asked

Ye’re humming, I can’t concentrate. Even more when it’s a fucking Blur song. He answered

Oh soz. Huh… Don’t think I’m a Blur fan. I just like this one.

Ye’ve got the right to like what ye like. But I’ll start worrying when I’ll hear ye sing Girls and boys.

If it ever happens, kill me please. I said, laughing

Count on me. He chuckled

What’s the song’s name now? I said, indicating his guitar with my head

Champagne Supernova.

I’m all ears.

Noel smiled and played what he already had written.

I don’t know what you mean by “slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball” but I love it.

I don’t know what the fuck it means either, but I think it sounds great.

He put his guitar aside, holding out his arms to me. I put my headphones down, and I approached him and sat on his lap. He wrapped his arms around me before kissing me.

I’m proud of you, you know that? I said

Oh yea? I work hard, me.

Yeah. And I also think you work too much. You better let me take care of you on your birthday.

I’ll let ye do whatever ye want. He answered

And I could even start now… I said, seductively, putting my hand on his crotch

Oh, do it then…

But we didn’t have the time to even start, because Liam was back from the pub and I heard multiple voices, meaning it wasn’t alone.

He entered the room, followed by a man and two girls.

And here’s our kid, the chief and genius of this band.

What the fuck Liam?! Noel said

Uh-oh… I said

I stood up, so did Noel. They started arguing. Noel was furious. Liam wasn’t supposed to bring anyone here. So I approached his guests.

Guys, the party’s over, let’s go out.

They nodded and followed me outside.

I’m soz guys. It’s just that Liam isn’t supposed to bring anyone here. It’s Oasis’s workplace, and the band prefers to keep things private. But don’t worry, you’ll soon have an album to listen to, they work hard for this.

Thank you. We’re sorry, we didn’t know… Liam invited us to come, so we followed. The man said

You couldn’t have known. But here’s a thing for you, if ever cross Liam’s path again and he’s drunk. Don’t follow him. He’s a nice and cool lad but tends to do some bullshit when he downed a few pints. And at least, you’ll avoid Noel’s anger. He’s not angry at you, he loves his fans, but he needs privacy when making an album.

We understand. Thank you for telling us kindly. One of the girls answered

That’s perfectly normal.

They left, and I started walking back to the studio. As I was about to walk past the window, it shattered in front of me, the extinguisher flying through it and landing at my feet, making me scream in surprise.

Me guitar ye fucking knob! Noel shouted

Uh-oh… I said again, this time to myself

I ran back into the studio, trying to make my way through the mess and all the broken stuff, finding the brothers punching each other.

Hey, stop this! I shouted

They didn’t, and Noel grabbed what was close to him: a cricket bat. And just like that, he hit Liam over the head with it. Liam was stunned, and he fainted.

Noel! I yelled

He’s finally off me arse. Come on, let’s go!

Whitey who heard noises entered the room.

What the fuck happened here? He asked

I’ll tell ye, grab the car keys, we’re leaving. Noel said

No we’re not! We have to take Liam to the hospital! I answered, panicked, in front of Liam’s unanimated body

He’ll get over it. Come on before he wakes up, are ye comin’ or not? Noel said

No! Noel, we… we can’t go and leave him like this! You might have hurt him real bad!

I started giving gentle slaps on Liam’s cheek.

Did you hear m… I started

But Noel had left at the moment he heard my no. I heard the car engine start. Liam regained consciousness, and as if he was a fucking cyborg, he got up, and did like his brother. He jumped out the broken window, grabbed a dust bin and threw it at the car that was now leaving.

Ye fuckin’ coward! He yelled

I joined him outside.

Damn right, he’s one. I answered

Liam yelled like a 4-year-old in surprise when he saw me, causing me to yell with him as well.

Fer fuck’s sake, ye scared the shit out of me Y/N, I thought ye left with him.

I was next to you, you dumbass! Didn’t you see me when you woke up in Robocop mode?

No I fucking didn’t. And I’m no fucking Robocop, it’s just adrenaline!

I can believe that! You leapt to your feet and literally sprinted towards the car without a care in the world.

Soz Y/N.

It’s okay. Are you well? I asked, worried for him

Me head hurts.

Come on, let’s put some ice on this head.

*

Here. Put this on your head. I said, handing him a tea towel full of ice cubes

Thank ye. He answered, taking it and putting it on his head

It’s bad enough you don’t have a lot of brain cells, and that cricket bat probably didn’t do you any good.

Ha-ha, very funny Y/N.

To be serious, what has fucking got into you Li’? You knew it would make him furious. Why did you do that?

I wanted to have fun with me fans, me. I’m a man of the people.

I can understand that but bringing them to the studio clearly wasn’t the best idea.

I know.

You should slow down on pints and cocaine Li’. It doesn’t help you. You’re often fucking up because of that. And I’m only telling you because you’re like my little brother. And because Noel clearly isn’t the one who’s going to tell you this.

Ye might be right. Thank ye fer caring Y/N.

It’s okay. Now how about I roll us a joint, we smoke it, and we clean up this mess?

Good idea.

And tomorrow, our kid will hear me. Don’t worry about it.

*

May 15th 1995:

I was having breakfast when I heard a car come closer. I put my cinnamon roll on the table, swallowed what was left of it in my mouth and went outside. Noel and Whitey were back. And the worst thing in all that, is that they acted as if nothing happened. I crossed my arms together and waited for Noel to approach me.

Heya love! He said, coming to kiss me

I slapped him.

You fucking idiot! I yelled at him

OUCH! He answered, his hand on his cheek

Your little brother could have died! What were you thinking?! Happily it’s nothing serious, it’ll only feel like a hangover, but it could have been! Did you think about that Noel?!

Listen, I’m soz okay ? But he broke me guitar and he pissed me off!

And so? Is that a reason to smash a cricket bat on his head and leave like a fucking thief?

Huh… no…

You’re smarter than that Noel, come on! Don’t you ever do something like that ever again, understood? I softened

Yeah, I learned me lesson.

You better.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Oh Faith Healer Come Put Your Hands All Over Me

Thank @darqchilddaydreamz for the inspo for this post.

Sons of Anarchy Masterlist

Can be read as part two of the Give Me Shelter Series or as a stand-alone.

Contains: Angst, hurt/huge comfort, smut (gentle Dom Happy, fingering, body worship, P in V, praise kink). Reader works at an animal shelter, no sadness around animals in mentioned.

2.4K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed

Check my page but drabbles are usually open

There was a side to Happy few saw and even fewer knew well enough to understand.

Happy stared at his pay for the coke run this month, after this, he'd have at least two million dollars sitting in his safe at home. He knew how you felt about it, "blood money." He can recall when he came home after the first lot when they just got out of Stockton.

"Look what I got little girl."

Your face fell as you saw the wad of money, "is that from the coke?"

He nodded, "you know I love you right?" Happy was worried, "of course, and I love you."

You smiled sadly, "then please don't spend a cent of that on me. I love you and accept you with all my heart but that doesn't mean I need to agree with everything do you. I can't live with myself knowing you spent money from drugs on me."

Happy felt his heart ache, "sure, I get it. Hey, you're cheap to keep anyway, like that elderly hamster you brought home."

You giggled, "don't start with me Mr Lowman, you love Mr Jelly Butt just as much as I do."

Happy laughed, "yeah, I do. I'm going to go out and buy him some organic lettuce with my cocaine cash."

Your laugh, one of his favourite sounds, came pouring out of your mouth, "you spoil him."

Happy was sitting on the picnic table when he got your call, "can you come and get me please?"

Happy knew that tone, it had been a bad day at the animal shelter, "sure little girl, hold tight, I'll be there soon." Happy drove off as fast as he could, coming to see you out front of the shelter, cooing at the kittens in the window, your eyes were red and your face was puffy.

He handed you your helmet and held your hand as you climbed onto the back of his back, burying your face in his back for a moment to collect yourself. "You ok to ride?"

You nodded, "yeah, it's been a long day, I just want to go home." Happy drove back to the house, he could tell that the closer he got, the more trouble you were having keeping yourself together. You lasted till you got into the door before you fell apart, Happy pulled you into his arms and hugged you tightly.

"The grant got denied, I tried so so hard but they said no. I don't know what we're going to do, how can anyone say no to tiny creatures." Happy felt so much rage, God knows how much money he and his brothers had given the shelter, all it took was one look at a tiny face and they were opening their wallets. Kozik was banned from walking in because he already had a house full of animals and Juice was the champion of the foster fail.

"We can have a fundraiser at the next party, the last one got you through the month, didn't it."

You nodded, whipping your face, "you don't need to do that."

Happy grunted, "that's not what I asked, I asked if it would get you through the month."

You smiled softly, "it did."

"Then it's done. Now go and wash up, I'll put on dinner."

You were sitting on the couch with Happy after dinner, his hand holding yours while his thumb ran over the back of your palm, "I like your hands, they're nice."

Happy paused, most people were terrified of what he did with them. "You do, do you? What do you like about them?"

You giggled shyly, "they feel nice, men with soft hands are the ones who reject my grant." It was no secret you didn't like rich people, he liked the way you appreciated his work worn hands.

"We need mechanics, Hap. How else would I be safe enough to bring all the tiny creatures home."

"You're very sweet." You shifted and put your head in his lap, Happy's hands coming to rub out the knots in your back, after a while, your breathing became heavy and you were pushing into his hands.

"You wanna head to the bedroom."

There was a pause, "yes please." Happy stood up and took you with him, his hand wrapping around yours as he walked you into the room. The dog was fast asleep on the bed, Happy scratching his big white head to wake him up before shooing him out of the room.

"Go on buddy, you can come back later." The dog scurried off with a butt wiggle, happy to be able to have the whole couch to himself. Happy took your hands and sat down on the end of the bed, pulling you with him.

"You wanna do something, or do you just want to cuddle."

You smiled softly, "can I decide in a little bit?" Happy nodded and laid down, pulling you into his arms as his lips pressed to your forehead.

"You wanna talk about what happened today?"

You took a few seconds, "I wasn't crying because I was sad, I was crying because I was angry. This asshole showed up in a fucking Bugatti, wearing an Armani suit and this foul perfume. I saw his house key, it was one of those fancy key fobs that open huge front doors on those colossal mansions. He said they didn't have to funds and that we should look elsewhere."

Happy grunted, he could feel the thoughts of murder filling his brain. "He sounds like a dick, how's Tig's lastest foster going?"

You giggled, "the same way the last one went, he's going to have another dog in a few weeks." Happy chuckled, he was convinced you were placing them with animals you knew they wouldn't be able to give up.

He shifted to look at your face, "I'm sorry shit keeps going wrong for you, I know how much you care about those animals."

You sniffed, "I just don't know how people can be so heartless. He had the money."

Happy ran his thumb over your cheek, "my sweet girl, you want me to take your mind off it?" The way he was looking over you made it clear what was on his mind but there was no way he would do anything without you being sure.

"I'd like that." He stood up, taking your hands in his and began to undress you, his hands moving over your skin with gentle brushes. He gave you a soft smile, the love in his heart reaching his eyes in an endearing wrinkle. He lifted your hands to his mouth and kissed each fingertip, stopping at your index finger to run his thumb over the little red pinprick, "one of our new kittens has developed a taste for human meat."

Happy laughed, warm and filled with affection, "a taste for human meat, or just a naughty kitten?"

You giggled, "well, you know cats. If you don't boost their ego, their fluffy little faces get sad."

Happy's hand moved to your face, his fingertips grazing your cheek, "you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." When you went to respond, he raised his other hand, "just let me look after you."

He moved to the bed and fluffed the pillow before waving his arm and directing you to lay down. As you got comfortable, he pressed the back of his hand to the sole of your foot, "you want some socks?"

You shook your head, "I don't think any part of me will be cold for long.

He moved up the bed, settling next to you, propped up on his elbows, his eyes raking over your skin. His vision reached your face and his eyebrows wrinkled, "you're still thinking."

You huffed, "are you going to do something about that?"

He smiled, a little sweet, a little mean, "be good and let me look after you.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to have to break out the big guns and I don't think you want to wait for me to tie all the knots I want to." You took a deep breath and relaxed against the pillows, Happy smiling at the effectiveness of his threat.

He lifted his hand toward you and ran his fingertips from your cheek down your neck. You could feel the callouses on his fingers as he ran them down our chest, Happy chuckling the gasp you let out as his index finger circled your nipple with the gentleness of a man touching an object of worship on an altar.

"Is this what you meant when you said you liked my hands little girl?"

You smiled, "yes, kinda, there's more to it than that."

Happy chuckled, "you can tell me the rest later." You gave a soft nod as his hands moved downwards, he lifted one leg over his hip then ran the other up your thigh while pressing kisses to your neck.

"My good girl, always so wet from me." You exhaled as his fingers made their way through your slit, his thumb coming to rub your clit as he slid two long fingers inside you. You gasped as he pressed his fingertips to your G-spot, his lips moving to yours as he slowly moved his fingers in and out.

You moaned and he kissed you harder, Happy nibbled your lip, not enough to even think about it hurting. "You enjoying yourself pretty girl?"

You moaned, "yes, more please."

Happy grinned, "I can do that." His thumb sped up on your clit, your core felt warm as his lips wrapped around your nipple, his tongue coming out to lick the tip.

You whimpered as you came around his fingers, Happy moved back up and pressed his face to yours, speaking softly into your ear, "good girl. Do you want to keep going or do you want to get some rest."

You could tell Happy was as hard as a rock by the look on his face but he was still thinking of you. "I want more, please."

Happy smiled, "my polite girl, you're so well behaved."

Happy rolled over on top of you with a gentle smirk then lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist before taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit. With a nod from you, he was slipping inside you slowly with a deep groan. He pressed his cheek to yours and started moving his hips in a deliberately grind, dragging his pelvis over your clit with focused ease.

He kissed your face from cheek to cheek then whispered praise his your ear as his hips sped up. The ridges of his cock rubbed your walls in just the right way, the edge fast approaching like an oncoming train, "Happy, please."

Happy pressed a soft kiss to your lips, "I know little girl, I know. I've got you." His hand drifted down to your clit where he pressed in small soft circles, building you up slowly till you were shaking and begging.

"Please Happy, please, I need more."

He chuckled, "my good girl, all you had to do was ask." He sped up, putting his weight on his elbows to get more leverage, before long, you were clenching around him while he grunting into your neck. "Good girl, can you give me another one?" You nodded frantically and Happy doubled down. You dug your nails into his back as you came a second time, Happy painting your walls with warmth as he fell against your chest.

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "you feeling better now?"

You nodded, "much, thank you." He smiled, "no need to thank me little girl. I'm gonna get something to clean you up, you relax." You nestled into the pillows while Happy fussed in the bathroom, coming back soon after with a damp, wet cloth to wipe you over. When that was done, he climbed into bed next to your and took your hand in his.

You ran your thumb over his fingers, Happy smiling, "you really do like my hands, don't you?"

You nodded, "I do, they make me feel safe." His eyes went wide, a rare thing for him.

"How's that?"

You shook your head softly, "I know what you do for a living Hap, and yet I know you'd never hurt anything or anyone that can't fight back. I know no matter how bad the run is, you'll always come home and be soft with me."

Happy smiled sadly, "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

You huffed, "you got under a filthy house and helped me save some kittens."

He pressed another kiss to your forehead, "I love you so much."

You lifted your head and kissed his lips, "I love you too."

You walked into work the next day, ready to try and find a cheap solution to the falling ceiling only to be greeted by everyone crowded around a small cardboard box. You shook your head, the shelter couldn't really afford another animal but you'd find a place for whatever it was. Except, when you got closer you saw it wasn't an animal, it was a box of money.

"How much is there?"

You were so shocked that it didn't feel real, "three mill plus, there was a note but no name."

"I think you could make better use of this."

You rubbed your face, "has someone counted this yet?"

They shook their heads, "alright, four of you do that while Cindy and I lodge the paperwork for an anonymous cash donation. We can fix our ceiling, build that new OR and fix the dog kennels."

Once the paperwork was done, you returned to one of the staff in tears, "there's four million dollars here, do you have any idea who did this?"

You shook your head, "no idea. We better call the builders."

The moment you had a free second, you called Happy, "you have no idea what happended this morning, someone dropped four million in cash off in a box at our door. We're in the middle of arranging how we're going to spend it."

Jax who was sitting next to Happy, gave his friend a smile, "that's good to hear little girl, if you need some hands we're happy to help."

He hung up before too long, wishing you good luck with all the new additions. Jax turned to him with a smirk, "are you ever going to tell her where it came from?"

Happy shook his head, "no, she doesn't like it when I hurt people on her behalf and she hates it when I bring up the coke money."

Jax huffed, "the dude had it coming, who keeps that much money in cash in such a big house. He was asking to have it taken, especially since he's an asshole."

Happy smiled, more to himself than Jax, "Juice better get ready, he'll be taking in a lot more tiny creatures now."

Fin

[starkiller419]

Sanctuary & Desires - Pt 1.

pairing : Scott Barringer x F!OC Reader | wc : 4.2k | summary : Scott was sent to Horizon, and upon his arrival he met Madison, a fellow student who was chosen to show him the ropes. After a blissful night of passion shared between the two in the confines of the mountains, their lives would change forever.

warnings : 18+, implied smut, angsty, some violence (Scotty has a bit of a temper.), mentions of drugs and drugs use.

a/n : I have like 14k more words to this story but I didn't wanna go overboard on one post so I'll be making this a little series. Also there will probably be no smut because I'm in a smut writing drought rn, but it could change. Who knows 🤷‍♀️

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Birds chirping around the alpine place would have easily been enough for a normal teen to be eased, filled to the core with relaxation - yet, at Mount Horizon, it wasn't anything like that. For such incapacitated adolescents, only the sight of their most prohibited desires - or maybe the ability to forget - could have led a grin to their features.

Scott was one of them. Brought there against his will by the father and stepmother only a few hours prior, the boy's mind scattered everywhere in despair while Peter elucidated every rule about that hell of a prison. He didn't need to be an ascetic within the enclosure of the school's fences. Instead, Scott necessitated for that whore Elaine to be locked up. 

The troubled juvenile used his muffled vision to scan around the shared dorm he was assigned, eyes just as lifeless as reddened - perhaps because of the cocaine he managed to secretly sniff during the journey. Narcos was the only thing that managed to retain his brain from going insane to a complete extent.

"Understood? No sex, no violence, and most importantly no drugs." Peter firmly conveyed, his silhouette settled tall before Scott's. The teen lazed upon his allocated bed, posture disheveled and coarse. He only darted through the counselor's eyes, not erupting a word since there was nothing to say - except for insults, so it was better for his mouth to stay shut.

"I will take it as a yes. Make your bed first, then a student will be waiting outside to show you around. Just keep in mind, your dad choose Horizon over a juvie hall, the only alternative if you choose not to make it work here. It's up to you." Peter continued mere instants later, his tone being as calm yet explainable as possible. And then, Scott was left alone within the wooden walls of the empty dorm. His mind wherever his body chained in a school for freaks. He had no intention of continuing such odyssey whatsoever. Not one bit.

As Scott begrudgingly began to straighten out his rumpled sheets, he heard a soft knock on the door. With an exasperated sigh, he reluctantly made his way over and swung it open, his eyes falling upon the student who would supposedly be showing him around.

She was a young woman, her frame petite yet elegantly poised. Scott couldn't help but notice the mischievous glint in her eyes, making him hold his breath for a moment. He could already tell that she possessed a certain captivating charm.

"Hi," She greeted, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "You must be the new guy. Scott, right? I'm Madison, but everyone calls me Mads. I'm here to show you the ropes."

Scott remained silent for a moment, sizing her up with a skeptical gaze. "Yeah. Just lead the way. But don't expect me to be thrilled about any of this."

Mads gave a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a touch of defiance. "No worries. I'll make sure to keep it interesting for you. The first stop is the common hall. That's where we all gather during our free time."

Scott followed Mads as she led him towards the common hall, her every step exuding an effortless grace. He couldn't help but steal glances at her as they walked, the way her hips swayed subtly, her perfectly sculpted figure showcased by the contours of her clothing. It was hard to deny the allure emanating from her.

As they entered the common area, Scott's eyes darted around, taking in the lively atmosphere. Groups of students huddled together, engaged in animated conversations, or engrossed in various activities. Mads motioned towards a table where a few students were playing a card game.

"Feel free to join, Scott. It's a good way to get to know some of the other students," Mads suggested, her voice dripping with coy suggestion. "Or if card games aren't your thing, I'm sure we can find something else to occupy our time."

Scott's eyebrows arched in intrigue as he considered her proposition. He couldn't help but wonder what other activities Mads had in mind. He decided to play along, letting a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. "Well, Mads," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of teasing. "I'm always up for a challenge. Show me what you've got, and maybe we can find a way to pass the time together."

Madison led Scott through the halls of Mount Horizon, her steps slightly ahead of him, intentionally giving him a view of her enticing figure. She seemed to glide effortlessly, commanding attention as she walked.

As they passed by the chapel, Madison glanced over her shoulder, her gaze meeting Scott's eyes before flickering down to her own body. She subtly adjusted the hem of her skirt, drawing his attention to her toned legs and the tantalizing curve of her hips.

"Scott, have you ever been inside a chapel?" Mads asked, her voice carrying a soft, melodic tone.

Scott's eyes lingered on her figure for a moment before he tore his gaze away, attempting to play it cool. "No, can't say that I have. Why, do you want to pray for my soul?"

Mads chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "I'm not exactly the praying type. But the chapel has its hidden delights if you know where to look."

Intrigued, Scott followed her into the dimly lit chapel, its stained glass windows casting a colorful glow across the pews. They wandered towards the altar, where an intricately carved wooden screen separated the sacred space from the hidden alcove behind. Mads beckoned him closer, her voice a seductive whisper. "Care to see the secrets it holds?"

Scott's curiosity was piqued, and he stepped toward her, the allure of the unknown drawing him in. As they reached the screen, Mads leaned against it, running her fingers along the intricate carvings with tantalizing slowness. "Behind this screen," she murmured, "is a small chamber, known only to a select few. It's a place where secrets are shared, and desires are explored."

Scott's heart raced, the electrifying atmosphere between them charging the air. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. "You've certainly caught my attention. Lead the way."

With a flourish, Mads pushed open the screen, revealing a hidden chamber bathed in soft candlelight. The room was adorned with plush cushions and velvet drapes, an atmosphere of intimacy and secrecy.

She motioned for Scott to join her inside, her eyes filled with an invitation he couldn't refuse. "Welcome to our little slice of heaven, Scott."

Scott, still fairly high on cocaine, felt euphoric. He knew it was partially due to the drugs in his system, but he couldn’t help but feel an innate connection to the woman before him. She walked ahead of him and kneeled down on a soft cushion. She smiled at him sweetly and he felt himself moving to her before he could comprehend what was happening

Scott's steps were almost automatic as if his body was being guided by some invisible force, drawn towards the alluring sight of Madison on the cushion. The drugs coursing through his veins heightened his senses, making every movement, every subtle hint of her body, feel intensified and electrifying.

As Scott neared Mads, he couldn't help but notice the way her skirt clung to her curves, the delicate dark lace of her underwear peeking through. The sight sent a wave of desire coursing through him, his mind clouded with both the effects of the cocaine and the growing hunger that burned within him.

Mads reached out a hand, her touch featherlight against Scott's arm, pulling him closer. "Come, here."

A primal instinct took over Scott's consciousness, overpowering any lingering doubts or hesitations. He sank down onto the cushion beside Mads, his gaze locked with hers, the air heavy with an undeniable tension. His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the soft fabric of her skirt, the desire to explore her body becoming overwhelming.

Without any hesitation, Scott leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to Madison's, his breath mingling with hers. "You're driving me wild. I need to taste you."

Madison's eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and desire. Her fingers traced a tantalizing path up Scott's arm, sending shivers down his spine. And with that, the boundaries shattered, and Scott succumbed to the irresistible pull of his desires, surrendering himself to the enchanting temptations of the hidden chamber and the captivating allure of Madison, his senses consumed by the heady blend of pleasure and excitement.

Their lips collided in a fiery, desperate kiss, fueled by a heady mix of desire and intoxication. Scott's mind swirled with an intensifying haze of sensations, his body responding instinctively to the touch of Madison's hands roaming across his form.

As Mads traced his hands along her body, Scott's fingertips trailed along the delicate curve of her waist, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his touch. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath, sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins. A surge of confidence surged within him, emboldening him to deepen the kiss, hungry to explore the depths of her passion.

His movements became more urgent as if guided by some fervent need. Scott's hands threaded through her hair, gently tugging at the strands as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. Their tongues danced together in a passionate rhythm, each movement igniting sparks of desire.

Madison's fingers gripped Scott's hair, their kiss growing even more desperate as their bodies pressed against each other. The intoxication of their connection heightened the sensations as if they were both intoxicated by the intensity of their desires.

With a surge of exhilaration, Scott gently pushed Mads down onto the cushion, hovering above her, his body yearning for her touch. Their eyes locked, a shared understanding passing between them, as the boundaries of their surroundings faded away.

The room was filled with the symphony of their moans and gasps, mingling with the soft music played by the crackling candles. The scent of anticipation filled the air, as their bodies entwined and gave in to the aching hunger that consumed them.

And in that moment, they drowned in each other, lost in the depths of pleasure and frenzy. The world outside ceased to exist as Scott and Mads became enveloped in the intoxicating symphony of their desires, their connection undeniably raw and primal.

In that hidden chamber, they danced a delicate dance of passion and indulgence, leaving behind the rules and restrictions of Mount Horizon, embracing the forbidden, and finding solace in their carnal desires.

After their intoxicating encounter in the confines of the chapel, the two made their way back to their respective dorms. Scott had joined Madison's group, the Cliffhangers, and over the next few days, they had gone on hikes and adventures, exploring the Pacific Northwestern wilderness. The two had managed to steal forbidden kisses and embraces whenever they could, but the confines of the reformatory school had restricted them from embracing each other fully as they did in the chapel.

The memory of what had happened between them lingered within Scott like an indelible mark on his soul. All of his traumas and frustrations had disappeared in her arms. She made him feel safe, and loved, even with a simple glance in his direction.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling of possessiveness and jealousy that gnawed at him. It was during a group activity that he noticed the lingering glances exchanged between her and another student, Ryan. Ryan's adoring gaze directed towards her ignited a flicker of rage within Scott, setting the stage for a brewing storm of emotions.

Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Scott sought out Ryan, their heated confrontation escalating into an argument fueled by possessiveness and territorial claims. The air crackled with tension as harsh words were exchanged, both parties refusing to back down.

"Stay away from her man. She doesn't want you." Scott's voice crackled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability, his anger laced with echoes of desperation.

Ryan scoffed, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. "Why should I? She's a free spirit, Scott. She can make her own choices."

The confrontation reached its peak, an explosion of pent-up emotions that left Scott breathless and consumed by regret. He and Ryan had engaged in a physical fight over the girl, which resulted in both of them cooped up in Peter's office to receive a talking-to.

"Why was there an altercation between you two?" Peter asked while he sat across from the two young men, sitting at his desk. Scott rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side, avoiding the question. Ryan however felt the need to speak up.

"Scotty here thinks he has some sort of claim over Madison." Peter's eyes widened at this as he focused his attention on Scott.

"What does he mean by that Scott?" Scott lifted his head to face Peter, and he was sure his emotions and conflicts were showing on his face. 

"I don't know what he's talking about," Scott said as he refused to admit their encounter to the two before him. 

"I think you do Scott. You may be reckless and abashed, but you don't seem like the type of kid to hurt someone for no reason, whatever that reason may be." Peter spoke calmly as his eyes burned into Scotts'. 

"Maybe he deserved it," Scott muttered. Ryan scoffed and Scott's head whipped in his direction, 

"Oh yeah? For what? Fucking your little girlfriend?" Scott saw red as he lunged towards Ryan, the two of them fell from the chair as Scott's fists pummeled into Ryan.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled as he pulled Scott from the boy beneath him, who just lay there laughing at Scott's attempted assault. Peter brought Scott near the entrance of his office and spoke to him in a low tone, so Ryan could not hear. 

"Look, I can see you care about her, don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at her during group. I know you may think you're ready for something like this Scott, but you're not. You have too much to figure out for yourself, too much to understand about you and your past before you can be involved that way with another person. Besides, relationships between students is forbidden here. If that were the case, I would have no choice but to silence the two of you." Peter's expression was caring and understanding as he spoke to Scott, who felt his heart burst at Peter's words. 

"What do you mean silence us?" He asked quietly, 

"We would monitor the two of you and restrict contact with each other. One of you would be removed from the Cliffhangers and placed in a different group." Peter explained to Scott and he felt overly consumed by anger. 

"That's bullshit! Why would you do that to someone? That's not healing anybody, that's fucking torture!" He exclaimed and Peter placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. 

"I never said that's what's happening. As of right now, I have no reason to suspect the two of you have nothing more than a simple crush, and if it stays like that and nothing more ensues, you have nothing to worry about," too late for that Scott thought to himself, "As for now, you and Ryan will be placed on firewood together for the remainder of the week. Take it as an opportunity to overcome your short bearings." 

Scott scoffed before he turned and stormed away, his heart throbbing with conflicting emotions.

The next day Scott sauntered into the mess hall for breakfast, spotting Madison and Kat sitting together at a table eating cereal. She glanced up at him and smiled brightly, causing his heart to flip and flop around. He wanted to smile back, and more than anything he wished he could run to her and wrap her in his arms, kissing all over her body as he once did.

But after what Peter had said he knew he had to distance himself. He wouldn't want to not be able to speak to her or see her because he couldn't hide his emotions from everyone surrounding him. So instead of smiling back, or even acknowledging her, he turned and walked away from her eyesight and left the hall altogether.

One day turned to many, a bittersweet silence between Scott and Mads ensuing. Passing glances were filled with a mix of longing and frustration. The longing in Scott's eyes remained unmistakable, a silent plea for understanding and a chance at redemption. He hated himself for giving her the cold shoulder. He was more than sure that he loved this girl. He had never felt this way for anyone before. And the fact that he was cold as ice to her was torturous for him, even if it was just to reduce Peter's suspicions.

Then after weeks of torture, on a stormy night, rain poured down upon Mount Horizon with relentless intensity, mimicking the chaotic storm that raged within Scott's heart. The sound of rain against the windows echoed his turmoil, urging him to confront his true feelings. Drenched to the bone, Scott found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing him towards her. Determined and resolute, he fought against the raging tempest that threatened to push him away, his heart pounding in his chest.

In front of Madison's dormitory, raindrops slid down his face, as if his tears had mingled with the rain. His breath came in uneven gasps, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. With trembling hands, he knocked on her door, waiting with bated breath for it to open. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Scott, his face streaked with raindrops and streaks of vulnerability. The intensity in his gaze took her breath away. Her heart quickened as she stepped outside into the rain, her voice barely above a whisper. "Scott, what are you doing here?"

His voice cracked with an impassioned rawness as he spoke with unfiltered honesty. "I can't pretend anymore. The thought of you with someone else tears me apart. These past weeks without you have been unbearable. Not being able to show you how much I care for you has been torturous. I want you. Not just for now, but forever. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine."

Raindrops blended with silent tears as they cascaded down Madison's face. Her vulnerability mirrored in her eyes as she stood before him, caught between her own fears and the love that had slowly but surely blossomed within her. Her voice trembled as she met his gaze, her words laden with emotion. "Scott… I've felt the same way, but I was scared to admit it. It's not just infatuation, it's something deeper. Something I can't deny any longer."

In that moment, every worry, every doubt, every unspoken fear was washed away by the rain, leaving only the profound connection between them. Their hearts beat in sync, a testament to the intense love that had blossomed between them.

As the rain continued to pour, they sought solace in each other's arms, a blissful embrace borne from desire, heartache, and a deep understanding of one another. This stormy night became the turning point in their story--the night they let go of their fears and chose to embark on a journey that would forever change their lives.

And amidst the rain-soaked chaos, Scott and Mads found solace, connection, and love that burned brighter than any storm. As the rain continued to pour, a newfound resolve enveloped Scott and Mads, intertwining their hearts and fueling their hunger for freedom. Their lips met in a deep and passionate kiss, sealing their agreement, their love, and their desire for a life beyond the confines of Mount Horizon.

Breaking away from the kiss, Scott looked into her eyes, a mixture of determination and excitement shining within. "Let's run away. Let's escape this place and create a world where it's just you and me, where we can be free."

Her breath caught in her throat, in a mere matter of weeks and hidden moments, the boy who stood before her had managed to cascade his way into her very soul. Her response was swift and unwavering. "Okay. I want to escape with you. I want to leave this place behind and create our own path."

The two snuck from her dorms, hiding away in an empty storage shed as the rain continued to pound outside. They engaged in searing moments of desire and anticipation for what was to come, the life they would be able to live together. The two spent the night planning their daring escape, their hearts pounding with fear and excitement. Their plan was to wait until the clock struck midnight the following night, taking advantage of the cover of darkness and the exhaustion that often accompanied the late hours.

As the time drew near, their excitement grew. Scott stealthily collected the necessary supplies while Mads gathered any valuable information about the school and its security measures. They meticulously planned their route, leaving no room for error.

Finally, the moment arrived. As the rest of the school slumbered, Scott and Madison slipped out of their dormitories, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Their steps were cautious, ensuring they remained undetected as they made their way toward the school's perimeter.

Aided by their knowledge of the campus, they skillfully navigated through the pathways, using the cover of darkness to their advantage. Their pulses quickened as they neared the fence that symbolized the boundary between captivity and freedom.

Scott's fingers trembled as he fumbled with the fence, silently urging it to give way and grant them their long-awaited liberation. With a sigh of relief, the fence yielded, providing them with an opening just wide enough for their escape.

Hand in hand, hearts racing, they emerged into the wilderness beyond, their spirits soaring as they breathed in the air of newfound freedom. At that moment, they truly believed they had conquered Mount Horizon.

The night swallowed them whole as they pressed on, their senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through their veins. With each step, the darkness of the night seemed to be a metaphorical embrace, wrapping their youthful rebellion in its protective cloak. They walked hand-in-hand for hours, stopping occasionally to exchange in a passionate embrace.

They embarked on an uncertain journey, captivated by the thrill of the unknown and the intoxicating allure of their shared escape. Their destination was not predetermined, their path guided by the whims of the moon and the whispers of their hearts.

As their escape unfolded, their bond only grew stronger. They relied on each other for support, their love becoming a lifeline amidst the unpredictable currents of their adventure. They discovered hidden coves, and secret hideaways, and shared countless stolen kisses under moonlit skies.

However as Scott and Madison ventured deeper into the wilderness, they soon realized that their escape was not without obstacles. The harsh realities of survival gnawed at their romanticized notions, testing their determination and resourcefulness.

They faced treacherous terrains, their clothes becoming tattered and dirty as they trudged through thick mud and dense undergrowth. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, prompting them to forage for food in the unforgiving wilderness. They relied on their wits and burgeoning survival skills, scavenging for berries and edible plants, and sometimes even daringly venturing into small towns to acquire necessary provisions.

Their escapades sparked a sense of adventure within them, reinforcing their bond as they clung to each other for support and comfort. Each hardship only served to strengthen their resolve, their love serving as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

In the midst of their journey, they stumbled upon a hidden waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering under the sun's gentle rays. It became a sanctuary, a place where they could wash away their struggles and bask in the purity of their love. They embraced amidst the gentle spray and let the waterfall's serenade drown out the echoes of their past.

As they continued their arduous exploration, they came across a humble cabin nestled amidst a grove of ancient oaks. It seemed untouched by the modern world, a forgotten refuge beckoning them towards its welcoming embrace. Seeing it as a sign, they decided to make it their sanctuary, their home away from home.

The cabin was worn and weathered, but livable nonetheless. They transformed the cabin into a haven, a place where their dreams could intertwine with reality. They adorned the walls with Polaroid captures of their journey, creating a tapestry of memories that whispered stories of a life lived on their own terms.

On one of their few trips to the neighboring small town, Madison had purchased a secondhand sewing machine and tailored the two new outfits, bedding, and towels. They restored the cabin together, spending their days in the blistering Oregon sun creating a home for themselves.

The two learned more and more about each other with each day that had passed. No one from Horizon or from their past had come to look for them, and they didn't care.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Plastic Hearts

Chapter Three: Prisoner

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!oc (Violet Apollo)

chapter rating: M (talks of dieter’s shitty parents, insecurity, these two pining for each other but being scared little shits, sexual desire, weed use, brief mention of hollywood being filled with predators, dieter’s awful parents, cocaine use (pls think before you use cocaine in 2022, it’s just fucking fentanyl and not worth it), me writing Matt Smith into this for a second bc i couldn’t resist, asshole!dieter returns, voyeurism?? a little??, oral sex male receiving, fuck these two are a mess)

word count: 5.5k

authors note: listen i had to write a fucking SNL monologue for Dieter and it was hard and it’s not very good and shout out to all the writers at SNL having to do that every week lmao

series masterlist | series playlist

“You seem to really like this one. Been staring at it for ten minutes now,” Dieter leaned to the side, whispering to Violet as they stood in the MoMA, staring at Monet’s Water Lilies. “I always thought shit like this is too pretty. I like my art like I like my women—“

“Abstract?” She turned to give him a smirk.

“Well, I was gonna say without meaning and overpriced, but sure—abstract.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“I love this painting,” she mused in a powder soft voice, Dieter’s eyes softening as he stared at her profile like she was the real work of art. “Everything about it. It is too pretty, you know? But some shit just is. And you can see the brushstrokes in it—it’s messy, it’s imperfect, and yet it’s so…fucking pretty, you know? So soothing and romantic and…nothing that you’d ever think would come out of a bunch of brushstrokes on a canvas. It’s pretty and it’s messy and it’s just…all the things.”

“I could listen to you talk about art for a lifetime, Miss Apollo,” he confessed quietly, just for her to hear. Sometimes he wanted something just for the two of them to have. A whisper, a look—a moment of authenticity.

The couple was constantly surrounded these days, bodyguards and assistants and handlers and fans—eyes always locked on them as though they were waiting for something to happen, missing the only thing really happening—a budding friendship.

Violet met his eyes and stared at him with the kind of awe that would make any man crumble.

“Take me to one you like,” she insisted, her eyes turning to meet his. Dieter smiled to himself and nodded, slipping his hand into hers more naturally now that he actually wanted to. Violet held onto his bicep with her free hand, the “couple” no longer sure what was for show and what was sincere anymore.

“You know, I grew up in New York most of the time as I kid,” Dieter began as the couple and their entourage walked through the museum, keeping his voice low so that only she would be able to listen.

“Yeah?” She turned her head a bit to watch him nod, his index finger and thumb rubbing his the hair on his chin.

“Yeah, my parents wanted me as far away as fucking possible.” Violet frowned at him as he glanced over at her, a small chuckle leaving the typically stoic man. “To be fair to them, I was a little shit from day one.”

“You were a child, D. Little shit or not, you deserved to have your parents around.” She spoke it as though it was simply a fact, but that little sentence had been the hardest one to accept, even through years of therapy. He didn’t feel like he deserved it—acceptance, their presence, love. “I know your mom is Marianne Ward, who’s your dad?”

Dieter was impressed by her knowledge on his mother’s career. She mostly spent her career doing artsy indie flicks rather than the shit most people saw. Aside from her Oscar nomination, she hadn’t really been much of a starlet.

“Ed Bravo—he’s a producer—“

“Yeah, didn’t he also try his hand at directing? What was the film called—Humoring Colossus?” Dieter stopped abruptly, causing the group around them to also halt. He shook his head and chuckled at her, his eyes wide with awe and intrigue.

“You’ve seen that shit?” He asked with disbelief, Violet chuckling at his theatrics as she nodded. “You’ve got to be like one of only ten fucking people to have even heard of that film. That’s impressive.”

“Don’t think too highly of me, I mainly watch obscure films like that to sound cooler than I actually am,” she assured with a smile, waving him back towards her.

Dieter grabbed her hand again, Violet resuming her hold on his arm as they walked up to a canvas hanging on the wall, smudged with black streaks of ink—chaotic and yet somehow orderly. Violet leaned closer to read the card beside it: Julie Mehretu, Invisible Sun (algorithm 5, second letter form), 2014, ink and acrylic on canvas.

“Now this…speaks my language.” Dieter studied the painting with puckered lips, his fingers rubbing his chin as he focused on it.

Violet meant to study it with him, she really did, but the current view of his deep contemplation was more awe-inducing than any work in the building could ever dream to be. Here he was in all his natural glory, hair tousled into messy waves and curls like he just got out of bed an hour ago, the greying patches on his beard almost forming two little hearts (ironic, she thought, for a man so averse to romance).

“I met the artist once at a gallery opening, and I tried to talk her into letting me buy it. Offered way too fucking much for it, but she said she preferred it here.”

Dieter turned his eyes, catching Violet in her gaze. He would’ve smiled at the sight of her studying him so closely if it hadn’t made him sick to his stomach with nerves.

Truthfully, he didn’t know if he wanted her swooning for him—if that’s what was beginning to happen. Not enough had changed about him for him to be welcoming anyone into his life like this. He was still a short tempered, emotionally unavailable man with unresolved mommy and daddy issues.

Though he’d been behaving on their week-long stay in New York—keeping to his side of the two-bedroom hotel suite, only smoking weed, and finding the strength to remain celibate—it was all bound to come to an end at some point. He had itches he needed to scratch, and though she’d been able to see the best he had to offer this week, he wasn’t sure she’d be so quick to stare at him with awe if she saw the other shit—the side that most everyone else got to see besides her, hence why they all hated him.

Dieter cleared his throat, snapping Violet out of her daydream, her eyes batting away her admiration as she turned to focus on the painting. “It certainly screams you, Dieter.”

“How so?” He asked, his head tilted.

“It’s chaotic, but clearly brilliant. It’s black and white but it’s also grey, you know? It’s…a whole combination of things. I don’t know why, it’s just you.” Dieter felt both thrilled by her observation and weighed down by it.

If she understood him so well, could she already see the storm on the horizon? Did she even care? Why didn’t that help soothe his anxiety? Why didn’t that cure him of the itch in his palms?

“I’m feeling kind of tired,” she looked back at him, something clearly weighing on her mind, though he knew her well enough to know that she was much too sober to speak it. “I think a nap sounds nice before we have to go to the show.”

“Okay,” he nodded and turned around to find his assistant, Raf. “Can you call Violet a car to go back to the hotel?”

“Sure thing,” the young man nodded and walked away to call the car.

“Thought maybe you would join me.” Violet’s hopeless voice pulled at Dieter’s heartstrings. Though he hadn’t realized she’d been offering for him to join, even if he wanted to cross that line, he couldn’t. He was hosting SNL that night and had dress rehearsals all afternoon.

“Wish I could,” he pinched her chin and gave her an apologetic smile, neither of them paying attention to the fan that was approaching their entourage.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m such a big fan of both of them. Could I just say hi?” Dieter turned his head around to take in a teenage girl desperately pleading with his head of security.

“It’s okay,” Violet interjected, waving the girl over. “Oh, I love your skirt. Where’d you get it from?”

“I made it, actually,” the girl blushed and giggled nervously, eyes hardly meeting either of the actors’.

“What’s your name?” Dieter asked, his casually cool persona back on.

“Violet, actually.” She chuckled and looked to Dieter’s Violet. “I’m such a big fan of yours—both of you. I watched you on broadway last year.”

“Oh, really?” Dieter gave her a smile. “Thought nobody came to that show.”

“Well, I loved it. And Violet, you’re amazing in literally everything you’re in. I’m such a big fan of yours. I actually—“ She held up her phone, showing them her lockscreen. It was a fan edit of Violet in her MCU debut role—the one that landed her her current job.

“Oh, wow,” Violet blushed and gave the girl a bashful smile. “You’re so sweet. Can I give you a hug, Violet?”

“Sure,” the girl willingly accepted the hug from her hero, Dieter watching the entire scene unfold before his eyes.

A truly good person, that Violet Apollo. Too good for the industry she worked in. Way too fucking good for him.

After taking a picture with the fan, Dieter walked Violet out of the museum, cameras waiting for them when they stepped out into the brisk autumn breeze of New York City. Dieter opened up her door into the SUV, tempted to give her a kiss on the cheek for the cameras, but the more he began to actually feel for her, the less he wanted to do such intimate things in front of the mob of paparazzi stalking them.

“I’ll see you before the show?” He asked, Violet nodding her head and reaching to pinch his chin. Dieter grabbed her hand and kissed the pad of her thumb, winking at her before closing her door, his security and assistant following him over to his own SUV parked right behind hers waiting to take him over to Rockefeller Center.

•••

The entire car ride from the MoMA to their hotel on the Upper East Side, Violet couldn’t stop thinking about Dieter. The way his dark eyes seemed to turn golden when he looked at her and black when he looked at anybody else. The way his beard felt against her fingertips when she’d pinch his chin. His earthy cologne that may have just been his natural scent—she couldn’t yet tell. He’d somehow managed to intoxicate her with his mere existence, and it was beginning to become an addiction she didn’t know she’d be able to shake once this was all over.

She could see it in his eyes—his hesitancy to feel something for her. She knew there was more between them than friendship or obligation, but just how much? Neither of them allowed themselves to speak it out loud.

Violet didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to wonder whether or not he was thinking of her, but before she could spark up a joint and hop in the bath, her phone was buzzing. She sighed and set the joint down, grabbing her phone and sliding the green arrow to accept the FaceTime call from her assistant now back in LA.

“Hey, Luce,” Violet spoke through an exhale, only half paying attention to the blonde on her screen.

“Hey, just wanted to call and let you know I booked your trip to London at the end of the month for the press junket. I haven’t heard back from Dieter’s team as to whether or not he’ll be joining you.”

“Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t, you know? Give us some time to miss each other and all that.” Violet bit at her once-perfectly manicured nails while her assistant narrowed her eyes at her through the screen.

“What’s happened? Besides the kiss that I walked in on?”

“Just…I don’t know. I feel like I’m doing that thing that I always do again where I meet an injured little bird of a man and take it upon myself to nurse him back to health only for him to fuckin’ fly off the minute he’s all better,” Violet hid her face in her hands, groaning dramatically. “I just need a week away from him, so let’s keep London a solo trip. Okay?”

“Okay, yeah. You’re the boss,” she typed in the demand into her phone before continuing. “By the way, it’s not a flaw to see the good in people. Not that I entirely approve of Dieter—I don’t really know the guy—but from the way he looks at you in all these pictures, he’s either the greatest actor of all time or he’s just plain into you.”

“Shh,” Violet held her finger up to her lips. “I’m going to hang up now so I can smoke weed and relax before I have to be my crush’s fake girlfriend again.”

“Godspeed, my friend.”

As Violet smoked her joint in the bathtub, the hot water up to her neck, the “smells like happy” bathtub failing to deliver its advertised effects, she thought about her past romances.

She always did tend to take a broken man and invest all her love into him, or rather the idea of him that she’d invented in her head. In truth, every man she ever thought she loved was simply a reflection of things she loved about herself, or things that she wanted her partner to love about her.

Her previous lovers were all rather boring, selfish takers who allowed her to suffocate them with love and adoration until their ego had inflated to the point of no return, leaving her to watch them as they floated off to the next best thing—the next girl too good for them that could fix the parts she couldn’t.

Deep down she knew Dieter wasn’t the same as all the men before. For starters, he actually seemed to value her—her feelings, her opinions, her way of doing shit. She knew he could be selfish, harsh, distant, cold, but he could also be generous, soft, interested, and so goddamn warm when she caught him in the right mood.

Dieter was bad for her and he was good, too—black and white and grey—which made her all the more confused about what to do.

Gathering herself a bit, she quickly got ready, doing her own hair and makeup tonight because she couldn’t bear the thought of interacting with anybody else right now.

She opted for a simple glam, her hair in cascading waves down her shoulders and back. She wore one of Dieter’s vintage t-shirts—a suggestion from Dieter himself—a distressed pair of jeans, and an oversized black leather jacket on top. Her outfit was casual but she didn’t want anything over the top—tonight was all about Dieter.

Violet beamed at the paparazzi waiting in front of 30 Rock, giving them her best smile and a friendly wave. Funny how they’d never know she was paralyzed with insecurity and sadness all the while.

“Hey,” Violet found Dieter in his dressing room, surprisingly all alone. “Thought I’d have to throw some elbows to get to you.”

“No, I, uh,” he gestured back at the hall. “I told everyone I wanted to be alone.”

“Oh—should I?” She stepped towards the door but Dieter shook his head and stood up, reaching out for her hand.

“No, stay.” Violet smiled, nodding and following him over to the sofa.

“You feeling okay?” She asked, afraid to bask in uncomfortable silence for too long. Dieter shifted in his seat, glancing at her with that boyish grin she’d become so accustomed to but at one point couldn’t have even imagined him wearing.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just…nervous, I guess.” He reached over, lightly punching her knee. “But you being here makes it better. And sorta worse. I can’t explain it.”

“I know what you mean,” she chuckled, tilting her head at him with a soft smile, her eyes unabashed in their look of admiration. “You have nothing to be nervous about, Dieter. You’re going to be great.”

“You know, out of all the people in this bullshit industry for me to be under contract to spend time with, I’m glad it’s you,” Dieter confessed barely above a whisper, reaching up to cradle her cheek. “I just wish I was good enough for more. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so scared to act on shit.”

“What? Dieter—“

“Alright, Mr. Bravo. We’re ready for you at stage entrance.” The producer opened the door and gave them both a hurried look. Dieter gave Violet a longing look before standing up and walking out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

What the literal fuck? Good enough for more? Act on shit? Act on what? Violet’s head spun at the thought of Dieter Bravo harboring feelings for her, and the thought of him holding back on them because he was insecure made her so dizzy she thought she could throw up. If only she could gather her wits enough to tell him that she was just as scared about the way she felt for him. That she was just as insecure about what she brought to the table.

•••

Dieter waited behind the iconic doors on the SNL set, ready to give his opening monologue. He’d written it with the help of a couple writers at the show, insisting that he wasn’t going to try to reinvent himself tonight, but simply show the viewers a newer side of him—a bit less brooding and pained than the image he’d created over his career.

Faster than he could catch his breath, the doors were being opened and he was stepping through them, walking down the stairs to the iconic jazz and applause from the crowd. He scanned the rafters, hoping to see one familiar face but shocked when he saw two more—his mother and father.

Great.

Plastering his smile even wider in hopes of hiding his actual oh my fucking god my parents are here panic.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Dieter bowed to the audience as the applause died down, his heart clambering inside his chest. “It’s an honor to be here tonight, I’m Dieter Bravo. You may know me as that one guy from that one thing that you fell asleep in the middle of but somehow won an Oscar for.” The crowd laughed. “You know, I’ve been sort of awestruck being here hosting. So many of my childhood heroes have walked these halls and stood where I’m standing now—turns out they’re all more like villains and are thankfully canceled now…which is great business for me. SNL would’ve never been desperate enough to have me on if pickings weren’t so slim around Hollywood these days.” The crowd response was a mixture laughter and ooo’s, Dieters mouth curling up into a half-smirk. He insisted that joke be kept in and had to kiss ass to get it approved but oh, the payoff. “Listen, I know I’m not known for my comedy. I’m a pretty serious guy, I like to take serious roles, but, ya know, since I’m turning forty in a couple months, I’m hoping to turn a new leaf.” The audience applauded him, Dieter nodding and trying to calm his smile before continuing. “Yeah, I used to only smoke sativa, but lately I’ve really been into indica.” Another round of scripted laughter erupted from the crowd. “No, but seriously. I’m slowly getting myself together. I’ve given up the fast life—mostly, got a new role coming up that doesn’t involve any Cliff Beasts or terrible accents, hell, I’ve even given up the all the young, beautiful supermodels in exchange for a beautiful, brilliant actress that’s here tonight up in the rafters hoping that I don’t completely embarrass her. Hi, darling.” Dieter blew her a kiss and waved his hand at her—that wasn’t scripted. “Anyways, we’ve got a great show for you all tonight. Stick around and we’ll be right back.”

The show went well, or at least he thought it did—everything was happening so fast it was hard to tell. After the end credits rolled and he’d given a fake hug to every fucking cast member, he walked off the stage, desperate to try and find Violet before his parents could inflict too much emotional abuse onto her.

Dieter found her in the green room, surrounded by a fucking mob of cast members, writers, producers, fucking interns—all of them making it near impossible for him to reach her. She was laughing and carrying on with all of them, playing her favorite role of the always-smiling American sweetheart, but he could hear the difference in her voice.

Violet was always so poised when she laughed in front of an audience, but when she was alone with Dieter, when he truly made her laugh, she was all snorts and cackles and just plain fucking real. It almost felt sacrilegious to hear his favorite sound distorted by inauthenticity like this.

“There you are,” his mother’s voice sounded from behind him and he closed his eyes, wishing her away. When he felt his father’s firm grip on his shoulder, he sighed and turned around, forcing a smile on his face.

“Ed, Marianne.” Dieter gave them a polite nod, both of them eyeing him up in that judgmental way that made him feel like a little boy again, desperate to make them proud.

“You did well out there tonight, son.” Dieter furrowed his brows at his father’s praise, remaining frozen when he was pulled in for a hug.

“Are you sick or something? Why are you hugging me?” Dieter’s mother swatted his bicep at the question, his father letting go of him.

“Nobody’s sick. We’re just proud of you. God, is it always going to be so volatile with you, Dieter? Sorry that we weren’t there as much as you may have wanted us to be, but we’re here now. Can’t we let bygones be bygones?” His mother pleaded, though her dismissal of his childhood neglect and trauma did little to win him to her side.

“Weren’t there as much as I may have wanted? You sent me off to live with a nanny across the country. That wasn’t not being there, that was abandonment,” Dieter scoffed, shaking his head as he tuned out their typical deflections to save himself the hurt.

When he felt a hand slide against his bicep, looping their arm with his, he almost jumped, but one look to his right side and he was met with Violet’s smile—one that seemed to wash away all thought.

“Found you,” she mumbled with a grin, Dieter’s lips curling up out of instinct. Violet’s eyes soon turned to his parents, her smile turning into a flat line as she glared at them. “If you two don’t mind, we have a party to get to.”

Dieter had never been more attracted to her than when she was guiding him away from his parents and down the hall to his dressing room, shooting him a knowing smile over her shoulder as she led the way.

It was moments like this that he wished he could set aside his feelings for her and just fuck her, but no matter how hard he tried to tap into his old ways, his heart and mind were dead set on giving her more.

If he was going to sleep with her, it wasn’t going to be a one off hookup, wasn’t going to be something quick and fleeting, it was going to fucking change his entire life. And as much as he wanted to dive head first into everything her, he knew he just wasn’t ready. He’d fuck it up like he always did.

“You did way too good tonight to be brought down by your shitty parents,” she assured once they were in the peace and quiet of his dressing room, spinning around to cup his cheeks.

There was a point, even if momentary, that he thought this would never happen. He assumed they’d be cold to each other, or at best friendly, but this—her hands on his face, his eyes locked on hers, the look between them that anyone could clearly see was adoration—was never in even his wildest of dreams.

“Can I kiss you?” His request was whispered, almost shy, as though it was an outrageous thing to ask. Violet tilted her head, her smile soft and just barely there as she studied him carefully, letting his question hang in the air for a moment before she was nodding. Dieter almost whimpered—something yearning and desperate inside of him surfacing for a moment. He whispered to her as he leaned in, his hands cupping her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

Violet knew the deal—she knew that these moments came with no strings attached. When he got lonely she was there and vice versa. To read any further into things was to admit defeat in this battle she was fighting internally. A battle she wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.

Dieter held her close, though his kiss remained soft enough for her to pull away at any moment. But she didn’t seem to want to. He smiled as he felt her hug him tight, his hands lowering to her waist and squeezing. He would’ve been content to stay that way forever, but of course…

“D, we gotta get you to the after party.” Andrea walked in, eying the two as they pulled away from each other breathlessly. Dieter pinched Violet’s chin, smirking down at her before turning to nod at his manager.

“Alright, just let me change.” Both Andrea and Violet left the room, though he wouldn’t have given two shits if they stayed, especially the latter.

After changing into a silk button down that was one size too big and a pair of black trousers, Dieter was making his exit from 30 Rock hand in hand with the most beautiful woman in New York City as far as he was concerned, a rare smile on his face as he waved at the paparazzi.

It seemed his fake happiness was starting to become real—and god, did that make him want to throw up.

Walking into the party, he held onto Violet’s waist, keeping her close and shielding her from everyone trying to steal her away from him.

Violet turned around, Dieter’s hand sliding to the small of her back as she leaned into him to speak over the music. “I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Uh,” Dieter spotted his dealer and a few of his party friends from over her shoulder, the craving for a couple little white lines distracting him. “Just a gin and tonic. I’m, uh, gonna go to the mens room for a second.”

“Okay,” she nodded and gave him a smile before leaving him to go to the bar. Dieter watched her until she disappeared and quickly made a bee-line for the bathroom, his dealer grinning and waving at him as he neared.

“Haven’t heard from you all month,” the all-business appearing skeeze welcomed Dieter to their little bathroom party with his hands on his shoulders.

“Been busy.” Dieter kept his eye on the constantly opening and closing door as his friend set up a few lines for him on the counter. Dieter wasted no time in leaning down and snorting the white powder up, one line at a time. As he moved to snort the last line, the door swung open.

“They didn’t have any tonic, so—“ Dieter interrupted Violet with a snort, his eyes wide as he turned to see the last person he ever wanted to show this side to. Violet looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and concern, the couple remaining frozen and silent for a few beats.

“Lovely to meet you, I’m Alex. Can I fix you a line as well?” The dealer leant his hand out for Violet to shake but Dieter was quick to slap it away, giving him a warning glare as he watched Violet storm out of the doorway and back into the party. Wiping his nose, he rushed out to follow her, his heart racing from the drug and his own fear of fucking up his chances with her.

Dieter found Violet by the bar, tossing back shots with one of his “friends”, a fellow actor who was safe but a total slut—and that meant a lot coming from Dieter fuckin’ Bravo.

“You know, you’re even more beautiful in person. It’s usually the other way around,” the actor flirted, tucking Violet’s hair behind her ears.

“Does that line usually work for you?” She chuckled, now sipping on a cocktail through a little black straw.

“Usually. Is it working now?” He smirked at her as she shrugged, Dieter now quickly losing his composure as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

“Fuck off, Matt.” Dieter stormed over, stepping into the space between their bodies and glaring at his friend. “She’s with me.”

“She’s with nobody,” Violet corrected, glaring at Dieter for causing a scene, his blown out pupils a reminder of why she was so upset in the first place.

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t know the two of you were together for real,” his friend held up his hands in defense, giving Violet an apologetic look before he was leaving the couple alone.

“You just told Matt Smith to fuck off!” Violet scolded, too drunk to care about her volume.

“Relax, he’s a friend,” Dieter assured as he ordered a drink for himself. “A friend you seemed to be enjoying.”

“Are you jealous?” She accused with more irritation than he was hoping for.

“I’m not—not jealous, Violet. I just think if we go around flirting with other people, our little fucking showmance is gonna start to unravel.”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Dieter. If I want to flirt with someone, I’m going to flirt.” Dieter turned to her with a raised eyebrow, both turned on and enraged by her independence.

Though it was surely the drugs in control, he thought it would be fun to give her a taste of her own medicine. Turning to his other side, he spotted a model sipping on a vodka soda.

“Hey, you wanna have sex with me?” He asked as though the answer was obvious, and judging by the girl’s smile, it was.

“Sure.” Violet scoffed at her eagerness, Dieter turning back to her with a smirk.

“You’re not my girlfriend, right? So I can fuck who I please tonight?” Violet had never looked more disgusted with him, and if he’d been sober, he definitely would’ve dropped to his knees and pled for forgiveness—but he wasn’t sober right now. He was just an asshole.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Dieter. I’m going home.” Violet set her drink down and made her way out of the party, Dieter’s eyes following her until she left the club.

“So…your place?” The model approached him, her hand sliding up his chest.

“If you sign an NDA.”

•••

Violet woke up around three in the morning to the sound of moans coming from their hotel suite’s kitchen. Furrowing her brows, she walked over to her bedroom door and cracked it open, gasping when she saw Dieter leaning back against the fridge, the model from earlier on her knees for him.

Though she felt fucking sick with jealousy—truly, she could’ve vomited right there on the fucking floor if she wasn’t so determined on keeping up her appearance—she couldn’t help but steal a glance at his appendage. After so many nights of dreaming about it, the real thing made her gasp. He was hung like a goddamn horse.

Dieter’s head was tipped back, his body bare besides the robe he kept with him like a security blanket. He held onto her head and guided her to take him in deep, vulgar slurping sounds filling the space as though he completely forgot about his roommate. Violet almost stormed out, enraged by the fact that he’d let anyone besides her get to feel him so closely—closer than she had yet to get—but soon, a name slipping off his lips in a breathless moan made her totally forget her rage.

“Oh, fuck, Violet. So fucking good.” Violet covered her mouth as she gasped, watching as the model pulled away from him and very hoarsely corrected his slip-up in names. “Yeah, sure, whatever, just don’t stop.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” The model stood up and fixed her outfit, seemingly having been on her way out of the hotel room before he seduced her one more time in the kitchen, storming out of the room with a slam of the door.

Dieter sighed at his still-raging erection, pumping it with his open fist until he was painting the kitchen tile white with a feral growl slipping from his lips.

Violet looked on at the scene, his flushed chest heaving from his orgasm ripping through his body, his long and thick cock dripping white as he stroked it lazily, his soft moans filling the room like the most beautiful song she’d ever heard.

“Next time you bring someone home—don’t.” Violet announced her presence, watching as Dieter jumped and let out a girlish shriek. Giving him a stern look, she watched him as he stayed frozen in place, his eyes lowering to his now half-softened length.

“You wanna—“

“Fuck you, Dieter.” She slammed her bedroom door and locked it. Though she still very much did “wanna”, it wasn’t going to be that fucking easy for him.

No matter how beautiful and impressively fucking hung he was.

•••

dieter taglist: @browneyes-issac @wildemaven @laureliciousdefinition @trinkets01 @paulalikestuff @toomanystoriessolittletime @alwayslurkinginthebackground @pastelnap @fishingforpike @littlemisspascal @wheresarizona @pedropascalsx (please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

[saltcove]

pairing: prussia/hungary | @doomspiral theme: politica & lust 

julia isn’t sure why they invited her; the summit is a sanitised version of war, an illusionary jerk-off circle for those with influence to flaunt their celebrity. she doesn’t qualify anymore—east germany has no designated spot at the table, ludwig made sure of that. he’s sat by her, hands pressed, mouth thinned as arthur goes through meeting points.

the hague is cold, saddled with sleet and mismatched cobble. julia is designed for fits of snow, torrential winter that renders life inhospitable. not this, this is child’s play. she spins a pen along her knuckles, chin tucked and disinterest weighing down her lids. 

she scans the room. alfred’s bitter pout—wanted to lead this, did you?—the marble of basch’s face. the swiss has an uncanny way of being unpresent and present. focused and unfocused. the summit drags its feet; arthur clearly missed being the world’s most insufferable three-piece. 

when they adjourn, julia shoots from her seat. 

she grabs a pint of beer off the drink stand without slowing down. with a heineken in hand and a pack waiting to be smoked in the other, she makes her way out onto the terrace. 

bouncing the camels close to her mouth, she snags one with her lips. 

a lighter clicks open next to her face.

“a lady shouldn’t light her own, don’t you think?” textured baritone, thick and scraping. julia’s eyes flick to gaz, cigarette hissing. he’s in a suit and tie, like the rest of them, blazer folded over his arm, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to the elbow. 

julia takes her first drag, exhaling smoke into his face.

gaz’s smile doesn’t wane.

her own leer takes form. “a cock doesn’t make a man, gaz.”

“not unless you know how to use it,” gaz moves closer, brushes his nose into loose hair. “and you would know, yeah?”

“would i?” julia hums. she brings the beer to her mouth. it was piss-tasting; the dutch were too proud of their watered down alcohol. “you give yourself too much credit, bitch boy.”

“bitch boy? you’re in a mood today.” gaz chuckles, clipping closed the lighter before bringing his hand to her throat. he wraps his fingers around the highs and lows, speaks into her cheek. julia lets him. “i thought you’d be happy to sit at the big boy’s table.”

“i thought you’d be happy to join in,” julia counters. “you were a meek little thing back there. afraid the british bulldog might piss on your leg?”

“i have no interest in their politics, szerelmem,” he swelters, “do you?”

their politics, because gaz didn’t consider either of them western. as german as julia is, prussia was never just german. prussia was cocaine-kiss and honorary-balkan, was more in russia’s lap than france’s. her heart catches, breath loose with it. a declaration, possessive.

“no,” she grabs onto the wrist hanging off her throat. “i’m more interested in my politics.”

“yours,” his voice is confession and question, both. 

she lines her nose with his. 

“mine.”