#I don’t do cocaine I don’t Even know what it looks like
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party monster || fred weasley
SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. TW: partying, drug usage (cocaine guys), fred’s ooc sorry not sorry, paranoia, etc. just overall v mature themes. OBVIOUSLY DO NOT DO COCAINE. this has a lot of plot ;)
Fred Weasley was never one to turn down an invitation to a party. Especially not one from Mattheo Riddle, to a Slytherin party.
Fred had felt like he had seen it all. He had watched the Hufflepuffs get giggly over champagne, Gryffindors try muggle grass for the first time, and Ravenclaws make tame mixed drinks that sent their minds into oblivion.
Slytherin’s on the other hand, went as hard as Fred liked. Of course muggle grass and alcohol was provided. The usual sex addicts were on the prowl for someone new to warm their bed. But what Fred enjoyed about the Slytherins the most, was their lack of fear to try muggle substances.
The most recent substance the most fearless had been trying was cocaine.
George refused to attend Slytherin parties, frowning upon the houses entirety. Truthfully Fred used to be the same way, until Mattheo offered him his first joint. The dark lords son had introduced him to an entire new world of highs, ones that Fred couldn’t find anywhere else.
For the past year the core Slytherins had been trying different pills, ones Theodore had been smuggling from a muggle born Hufflepuff who was naive enough to think they were being used for medical purposes. Fred had been to enough of these parties to where no one questioned his presence. If anything, he was often greeted and offered a cigarette at the very least.
It was highly unusual for other houses to venture into the Slytherins events, old superstitions still highly believed in. Fred would’ve been the same way, if it weren’t for Mattheo. It was an unlikely friendship, one no one could understand. Not George, Not Draco, no one. The ginger scanned the room, excited to find his friend. Word on the street about cocaine being smuggled into Hogwarts was spreading like wildfire. Fred knew he had to be one of the first ones to try it.
Strolling up confidently to the couch Mattheo always sat, the ginger waved. One of Penelope Clearwaters friends sat in Mattheo’s lap, her blue uniform making her stick out like a sore thumb. Mattheo grinned at the sight of Fred, gently pushing the girl away from sucking more hickies onto his neck. “Why don’t you go take a few shots with Pansy and i’ll meet you over there in a second?” He suggested. The girl glanced at Fred, taking the hint and starting her journey of finding Pansy.
Theodore Nott sat on the other side of the couch, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. “My favorite Gryffindor, welcome to another rager,” Mattheo chuckled, gesturing to the party that was occurring around them. Fred took a seat beside the brunette, greeting Theodore as well. “So Riddle, what do you have for me? You know I love to try whatever new hits the market,” Fred asked. Mattheo reached into his pocket, holding up a small plastic baggy of white powder.
Fred’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. Previously he was under the impression that all muggle party substances were in the form of small pills. “That looks like it’s going to taste like shit,” Fred pointed out. A genuine chuckle escaped Mattheo’s lips as he grabbed a small metal tray. “Thats because it does, you don’t swallow it, you snort it,” He explained. Fred watched curiously as he poured the powder onto the tray. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wand.
Mattheo used the tip to slice it into three tiny lines, the small amount only furthering his curiosity. “How many milligrams is that per line?” Fred asked, trying to get a better grasp on the drug in front of him. Once Mattheo made sure the lines looked even, he set his wand aside. “Doesnt work like that. Nott, wanna lead by example?” He asked, gesturing the tray to him.
Theodore didn’t seem to hesitate at all, his nose hovering over one of the lines and inhaling it without a second thought. His lack of hesitance made Fred more confident. “Alright alright let me see what all of this hype is about,” The ginger interjected. Fred was determined to ‘one up’ Theo, the potions master always a bit too cocky for his liking. (Even if he thoroughly enjoyed spending hangovers with him.)
Fred mimicked Theo’s actions, holding one side of his nose as he inhaled the first line. Flames seem to spread through his nostril, the ginger deciding to ignore it and to snort the other line as well. Sharp pain washed over Fred’s senses, the feeling of the powder sliding down the back of his throat making him cough. “Look at that! Atta boy,” Mattheo said encouragingly, patting Fred on the back. As the brunette took a cigarette out of the box Theo gestured to him, he gestured to the party.
“Let’s get out there, shall we?”
Fred had never felt more talkative in his life. From Pansy, to Blaise, to Slytherins he didn’t know, he could not stop talking. Sober, Fred was a very social person. But he knew when to let the conversation fizzle out. But as of right now? That concept didn’t exist. He felt utterly invincible, as if the world itself existed around him for his pleasure and his only. His throat had gone numb, unable to feel the shots he downed repeatedly.
As he was talking to Blaise about his latest prank, his eyes briefly flickered to you. You were mesmerizing, a girl he had never seen before. Fred ensured to keep track of girls in his year, knowing which ones were taken and what not. But you looked to be the same age as him and he had never seen you a day in his life. You stood by the alcohol table, pouring raw tequila down your throat. Without excusing himself Fred left, abandoning his conversation with a way too drunk Blaise.
Fred knew he had to meet you, something about you calling to him. Even as you downed the liquor your hips swayed to the music, your curves intriguing Fred even more. The ginger didn’t feel one ounce of nervousness, the coke having imbedded in his mind. “Hey there, mind if I have a swig?” Fred asked. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, before handing him the bottle. “Thanks,” He said, taking a drink. Fred’s throat was completely numb, the firey liquid not affecting him at all.
He handed the bottle back to you, giving you a sly grin. Your lips were painted a dark red, your beautiful eyes accompanied by flattering dark makeup. The kind Fred could only imagine a Slytherin could pull off. “You have something right here,” You replied, pointing to your upper lip. In a sudden movement you stepped forward, wiping the very top of Fred’s lip. You held up your thumb, the faintest sprinkle of white powder coating the pad of your thumb.
“Thanks, been a wild night. When new muggle stuff comes in it’s always exciting to try it,” Fred said, unscathed by your action. If anything he was into it, thrilled that you were so touchy. “It always is, isn’t it?” You say, taking another swig of the bottle. Fred couldn’t help but grin, thrilled that a girl as hot as you understood his enthusiasm. It was difficult finding another student so adventurous, yet here you stood.
A girl behind you waved at Fred, a friend of Pansy’s. Fred waved back, making a mental note to talk to her later. “So, a lion playing with snakes?” You ask, creating conversation. He hadn’t realized he had just been standing there, his eyes flickering in every direction. Soaking in the party, the music, you, the lights, Pansy’s friend-
“I’m a good friend of Riddle’s, great isn’t he?” Fred said. He gestured to the brunette who was currently dancing on top of a table, his tie loose and hanging around his shoulders. A cigarette hung on his lips, his hips occupied by grinding on the Hufflepuff in front of him. You nodded in agreement, shrugging. After tonight Fred made another mental note to ask Mattheo about you. You were awfully quiet for a Slytherin.
“A real charmer, that’s for sure,” You replied, your words laced with sarcasm. Your eyes flickered to Fred, shooting him a playful smile. “As are you. I see where he learns it from,” You continue, biting your lower lip. Flattery was the gingers weakness, a cocky smile creeping across his lips. “Hey, you wanna get out of here? My dorms gonna be empty. Roommates crashing with one of the boys,” You ask, pointing to the dungeons. Fred knew about the girls rooms being in the dungeons all too well, his visits down there frequent.
“Sure, lead the way little witch,” Fred purred. You grabbed his large hand, your skin cold to the touch. You led him through the hot swaying bodies, your hand gripping his his. As you both approached the staircase to go down further Fred looked over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Mattheo. The brunettes eyebrows were furrowed as he watched him, mouthing a clear question: ‘you good?’
Fred smiled and nodded, shooting him a thumbs up as he followed you down the dungeons. If there was anything Fred knew about Slytherins, without stereotyping them too much, was that they cared about appearances. They kept precise upkeep about their looks, (maybe not including Mattheo), that it teetered towards an unhealthy amount. In Fred’s opinion anyway. He didn’t have to deal with strict parents with pureblood ideologies, so he didn’t feel like he had room to judge.
As you led him further down the staircase he noticed several mirrors in between portraits, for students to use while heading up to the common room. Fred’s focus mainly was on himself, noticing how large his pupils were. You both reached towards the end of the staircase, Fred’s eyes still focused on the mirror. For a split second he squinted, noticing he didn’t see you. His hand was being held in mid air, your fingers not entangled around his palm like he saw before him.
Questioning was on the tip of his tongue, your abrupt words cutting him off. “My dorm is further down and I need you, now,” You say urgently, palming at Fred’s shirt. His eyes flickered to yours, unsure. “Did you see that? You weren’t in the reflection,” Fred asked, completely ignoring your statement. You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the girls bathroom on the right side of the hall. “You’re paranoid, do you want to fuck or not?” You asked.
Fred shook his head, trying to rationalize with himself. He had a hot witch standing in front of him and he was about to fuck up a one night stand because of some muggle drug. “Absolutely,” Fred agreed, allowing you to lead him into the bathroom. Admittedly this was one place Fred hadn’t been, his knowledge of the room little to none. He was surprised that a velvet green couch sat almost in the center of the room. Would that have been his style choice? Absolutely not. Do witches tend to take their time in the restrooms gossiping? Fred believed so.
Your lips were on him before he could process it, his back hitting the couch. You tasted like raw alcohol, his tastebuds flooded with the sensation as you got on top of him. Fred was typically dominant, but he never minded a Slytherin topping him. You were so confident, tugging your shirt over your heard before reattaching your lips to his. Your touch made Fred want to immediately submit, his cock growing harder by the minute as you straddled him.
“Hard already? Naughty naughty gryffindor,” You teased, biting his bottom lip. Fred groaned, his hands flying to your waist. He guided you to grind against him, his cock growing achingly hard. You kissed down the side of his face to his neck, sucking at his sweet spot. Fred squeezed your thighs, whimpering as your lips littered his skin with marks. You kissed down his clothed chest, all the way down to his aching cock.
You teasingly kissed his hard on, maintaining eye contact as you did so. The ginger bucked his hips towards, throwing his head back as you unbuckled his belt. “If you want me to suck your cock you’re going to have to beg Freddie,” You say, unbuttoning his jeans. Spews of pleas left his lips faster than he would like to admit, “Fuck, please, touch me, please.”
A brief concern of how you knew his name crossed his mind, the worry fading as you shoved his boxers and jeans down his thighs. Fred was decently known, maybe you had known him for an infamous prank or-
His spinning thoughts came to a screeching halt as you took him into your mouth. Fred couldn’t control his noises, you taking control of him and his pleasure one of the hottest things he had ever seen. As you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, Fred chopped up his previous mental ramble to paranoia. Most likely he was coming down from his high, his body adjusting his mind back to normal.
Fred didn’t even know your name, but the moans he was making made it sound like he did. He was pure putty at your hands, willingly and merciless at your disposal. His tip brushed against the back of your throat, expectancy of the sound of gagging ensuing. Except it didn’t. Fred looked down at you in awe, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t have a gag reflex? What kind of magic was this?
He roughly grabbed the back of your head, pushing you down further onto his cock. You took his length with ease, saliva pooling to the base of his shaft. “Merlin, you’re a goddess right? Sent to me from above?” Fred panted, his mind trying to wrap around you. You pulled off of his cock, his hands not affecting your movement. He thought he had applied a decent amount of pressure, even if it was involuntary. What were you? Were you some kind of-
“Maybe, maybe you’re just my personal pet. My babies get the best treatment you know,” You purred. The ginger had no idea what you were rambling about, but what he did know, was that he wanted you to fuck him. “Ride me, fuck, please ride me,” He whined. Most girls would’ve asked for foreplay, head, or something along those lines. But you didn’t ask for either, instead lifting up your skirt and shoving your panties to the side. You guided his tip up and down your drenched folds, the feeling of your warm slick enough to make Fred groan.
He couldn’t understand why he felt so sensitive, his body on cloud nine just from your simple touch. You sank down onto his cock with ease, your walls clenching around him. Fred threw his head back, unable to formulate coherent words as you began to ride him. You seemed unfazed by his size, riding him like you had been doing so for years. Fred was not only unable to speak, but completely and utterly speechless.
You didn’t seem real, his unrealistic expectations for a hookup playing out in front of him. You leaned forward, one hand placed on his throat while the other tugged at his hair. “You like that huh? Feel good Freddie?” You asked. Fred groaned an agreement, his cock brushing against your g spot with every roll of your hips. Most witches would tire out by now, opting to switch positions. Yet you didn’t, your body not seeming to tire as you squeezed at the sides of his throat.
“So good, Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me,” Fred moaned as you licked up the side of his neck. He felt his orgasm approaching, the ginger flustered by the feeling. Was it the coke that was going to make him bust quick? Or was it how well you were riding him? His eyes wondered over your shoulder, landing on a large full length mirror. The presence of the mirror wasn’t surprising, but what was, was your absence. You weren’t present in the reflection, Fred’s head beginning to spin.
“Uh, you’re not in the m-mirror, I-” Fred stuttered, his high approaching faster than he wanted it to. He wanted to go all night with you, but why weren’t you showing up in the mirror? You sat up, your breast bouncing as you continued to ride him.
“You’re being paranoid Freddie, now why don’t you go ahead and cum for me?”
Fred’s hips stuttered as he came inside of your cunt, his head rolling back onto the couch. His ears were ringing, any sounds of you or the party dulling out into nothingness. He began seeing stars, his vision fading out completely. His senses had seemed to given up, Fred’s body unable to sustain itself, passing out.
\/
Fred had woken up a lot of strange places after a party. Most times he woke up beside a witch whose name he didn’t know. Other times he would wake up in random places, one time including the whomping willow. (To this day, no one has any idea how he survived OR got a good nights sleep.) Where Fred had never been woken up before, was in the male Slytherin dorms. Nor, had he ever been violently shaken awake by someone. Faintly he could hear a familiar voice calling out to him, but the words were incoherent.
“Fred! Wake the fuck up!”
He jolted awake, his heart pounding out of his chest as he sat up. Scattered,he looked around, unaware of where he was. His eyes landed on Mattheo and Draco, both of which seemed extremely concerned. “W-what..?” Fred stumbled out. His head was pounding with a rager headache, his body felt drained and spent. “Pansy found you uh-” Draco began, before shooting Mattheo a look that he should speak instead. Mattheo sighed, handing Fred a glass of water.
“She found you in the girls bathroom passed out with your pants pulled down and you uh, came all over yourself,” Mattheo informed him. Fred could feel himself turning red, clutching the water in his hand. His eyes widened in disbelief, becoming dizzy again as he rested his hand on his forehead to keep himself propped up.
“Do you have any idea how you ended up like that dude?” Mattheo asked, keeping his voice even. Bags hung under his eyes, his knee bouncing anxiously. It was rare Fred ever saw Mattheo sober, but he could definitely tell he was. You raced through the gingers mind, embarrassment flooding over him. You weren’t real? None of it was real?
A knock on the door alerted the trio, the Slytherins eyes landing on the new comer. “Well shit I see the party monsters awake,” Theodore said, waltzing in. His confidence made Fred uneasy, his stomach churning. “Do you happen to remember what happened last night?” He asked him, his voice breaking. Theo nodded, taking a seat. “Why don’t you drink some water and i’ll tell you all about it?”
Theo didn’t know Fred well by any means. Sometimes he questioned what Mattheo saw in the ginger, the prankster a bit too full of himself. It was a coincidence he saw him by the alcohol table, talking to himself. At first Theo assumed he was yelling to someone, or even on a muggle phone a lot of Gryffinors used. Cautiously Theo rounded the table, raising his eyebrows as Fred offered the bottle of tequila he had been cuddling to the air in front of him.
The brunette couldn’t believe his eyes, watching dumbfounded as Astoria Greengrass gave him a wave. Briefly his eyes flickered upwards at the Slytherin, before returning to the void in front of him. With a confused expression Theo decided it was none of his business, returning back to Mattheo with new drinks in hand. He figured he was just high, anyways. Unknowingly Mattheo had recommended Fred to Astoria, who was looking for a quick hook up to help her get over her ex.
A dumbfounded Astoria had beat Theo to Mattheo, her lips moving a mile a minute. She was weirded out by Fred’s behavior, the ginger confirmed to be talking to the air. Mattheo’s eyes flickered upwards, watching as Fred was heading towards the stairs. His hand was held out in front of him, a goofy smile spread across his lips. He made eye contact with Mattheo, who managed to communicate through all the noise and ask if he was good.
Fred seemed more than good, excitedly nodding and heading down to the dungeons. It wasn’t until the next morning Pansy came running, trying to get the boys to help her carry Fred before anyone saw him.
As the group sat in Mattheo’s room you watched from the shadows, invisible to everyone around you. You had died from a cocaine overdose in 1970, the curse of your afterlife being that no one could see you. The only time anyone did, was when they had done the drug themselves. You didn’t quite understand the logistics of it, other ghost able to see you, but no being with a beating heart could.
You had been shocked Fred had seen you at the alcohol table, after being used to being unseen for so long. As cocky and mischievous as you knew Fred to be from watching, you liked him. So much so that you knew scaring the ever loving fuck out of him was going to be the only way he would never touch the horrid stuff again. Party monsters like Fred, often times danced on the line between life and death. Their bodies, from what you could understand, would be into overdrive. That crossover allowed him to see you.
You thoroughly enjoyed fucking Fred, even if the ginger now regretted it. And as much as you wished you could see him again, you knew he deserved a better chance at life. “Bloody hell, i’m never touching that stuff again,” Fred groaned, cupping his pounding head. You smiled at his confession, walking up to Draco’s side. You stood beside him, the blonde unaware of your presence. Your mission was complete, Fred would be on a better path now. You smiled to yourself, watching as the ginger lifted his head.
His eyes widened, centered on you.
“What the actual fuck are you doing here?!”
He can see you?
a/n: can yall tell im into plot twist rn? lol. might do a part two if yall want it >:)
#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut#fred weasley x oc#fred weasley#fred weasly x reader#fred weasely x y/n#weasley twins smut#george weasley#weasley twins#weasley twin#george wealsey x reader#george weasly x reader#george wealsey imagine#harry potter#harry potter smut
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brittany would send these kinds of domo pics to santana and captioning it with “us” 😕
#juno speaks#i feel like santana would like these plushies tbh like she’d have one so brittany would go looking for images#or even get a matching one#just seems like something they’d do#and 🙁#santana would think it’s cute#brittana… brittana save me#Oh and i also think that this would be in high school. and then after they get married (and yk this is important bc#after the breakup in s4 their relationship is implied to just. not be the same! even tho that’s not really explicitly shown#they don’t keep as much contact - like in 4x22 santana knew pretty much nothing about what was going on with britt#and she didn’t even know britt was with sam until tina told her#so like. even though they’re best friends and they talk it’s nothing significant. because things between them are just… weird#they couldn’t be as ‘unclear’ as they’d been before they dated because they always LIKED each other and even Wanted to date despite santana#being in the closet but now they’ve been together and they’re broken up so things are just completely changed#like they have to go to a completely platonic dynamic and they’ve never actually done that before#so anyway they didn’t have that kind of connection anymore not even with PLUSHIES. because the plushie hc would’ve been early s3. just so u#know that’s the timeframe i’m thinking) so when they get married brittany does it again ☺️ and it brings so many memories back#and well they are just so happy and in love.#i seriously have thought so much about this hc like i don’t think you guys understand i can’t put the brittana cocaine DOWN…#my faves. ugh#gleeposting
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to knowis to be loved and to be known is to b eloved. I want transgender friends who will know me and love me in a way that cis people usually do not
#getting floored by transgendered feelings tonight. I went full femme last night in a way that I haven’t in a long time and it really made#it clear that what I enjoy about looking feminine is the ATTENTION. PEOPLE PAY SO MUCH GODDAMN ATTENTION TO PRETTY WOMEN#I will fully admit that I love getting positive attention for my looks irl. Like I’m not really pretty unless I#put a lot of effort into makeup and clothes so getting compliments on my clothes/appearance is like crack cocaine#which is not healthy. I don’t WANT to care about what I look like#but tbh one of the reasons I enjoyed cosplaying so much is that I got all that attentiob without the requisite feminity. Hahaha hhhhhhh#Last night as I was putting myself together for the charity dinner I felt like I was dressing up a doll. FULL out-of-body barbie vibes#I’m so disconnected from feminine feelings right now. But at the same time I had so much fun being pretty and getting compliments#idk. I don’t even know how to feel. I’m so goddamned tired of all this#if I could beam a perfect understanding of gender fluidity into the brains of everyone I meet I would have come out YEARS ago#I just don’t want to be alienated any more than I already am from the people around me#living in the us south means suffering alone in transness I guess.#I don’t want to be the first genderfluid/nonbinary person EVERYONE has ever met. I don’r want to have to justify my existence#but this cannot go on. but I’m afraid of T. I don’t want to go bald 😭#and I still want to wear dresses from time to time#maybe the solution is becoming a lolita lifestyler. dress myself up as a doll every day for the fucking compliments#leave no room for dissatisfaction with feminity. FUCK#I NEED A GENDER THERAPIST WORSE THAN ANYTHING#BUT IT’S THE SOUTH AND THE NEAREST ONE TO ME IS OVER AN HOUR AWAY#AND she’s out of network. FUCK#anyway I watched an episode of the new f*llout show and it was pretty good 😊#AND I’m playing st*rdew valley again on the new update and the update IS SO FUN#<-lil media update to lighten up this post.#this post was typed up not from a place of despair but from a place filled with the same emotions that a dog chasingits owntail experiences#I’m doing well enough mentally that I can deal with my transgender feelings again yknow. maslows heirarchy of needs with m#with transgender feelings at the top#weekend whining
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A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.
If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.
If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.
If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.
If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.
You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.
You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.
But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.
Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
My Favorite Customer
Summary: You’ve been buying weed from your new dealer for a few months now. Always leaving it in your mailbox while you’re at work, you two never cross paths until one Friday night when you come home early.
word count: 3k
Warnings: None really besides some kissing at the end. This just a little meet cute with our favorite weed dealer. (Not meant to be a series, just a fluffy one shot) mentions of weed obviously.
A/N: I missed Eddie and this idea came to me based off my real life of buying weed from my weed man for over a year. Have yet to come face to face with him, but there’s always weed in my mailbox when I need it lol. For my twin @boomhauer and thank you @superblysubpar for helping me find my Eddie voice again.
Lifting up the lid of your mailbox, the smirk that tugs at your lips can’t be stopped when a fresh bag of weed sits inside, his usual hand written note attached making your face hot. You look both ways before snatching the eighth quickly scuffling back into your apartment like you were hiding a pound of cocaine and not just enough green to last you a few days.
It had been like this for a while with Eddie. You’d call him up by the number given to you from Robin who swore up and down that he was the best.
You remember thinking his voice was cute the first time you heard it, and you started to wonder if he thought the same after the third call. A flirty edge hidden behind his words every time he’d pick up and realize it was you.
“Ahhh my favorite customer.” He’d tease starting to get these calls multiple times a week.
It wasn’t your intention to never meet Eddie, it’s just how it always seemed to happen. That first time you talked he could hear the desperation in your voice. The stress from the move here and starting your new full time job fresh out of high school, he could tell you needed to relax. Rattling off times he could come by, none of them ever lining up to match with yours.
“You got a mailbox or somewhere I could stash it?” He finally gave in after exhausting almost every other option.
“You’d do that?” You couldn’t help but be embarrassed by the obvious excitement in your voice and he just laughed.
“If the money’s there sweetheart, why not?” The nickname made your heart skip a beat biting your lip to try and hide your smile.
You don’t even know what he looks like.
So this is how it started playing out after that, you’d call with your order and he’d make you blush every time he’d kick the flirting up to ten.
Instantly comforted by his mellow voice, you found yourself looking forward to those few minutes so much that you weren’t sure if the amount you were smoking was from stress or from just wanting to hear his voice again. Then he started adding little notes to your deliveries and now you were almost positive it was the second.
His sloppy handwriting started appearing on each bag with the word ‘favorite’ always scribbled at the top.
Cheeks heating up the first time it showed up, you couldn’t stop trying to imagine what he looked like. Too scared to ask Robin, you knew she’d just follow your intrigue with a line of questioning of her own.
Settling for the vague faceless man you’d conjured up in your clever mind. You let the memory of his voice be the thing that secretly encouraged the movements of your fingers between your thighs every night.
—
Friday morning had you waking up with a smile, your stash low enough to do the thing you’d been thinking about since you hung up the last time. Taking a deep breath you dialed his number that you now had completely memorized. It only rings three times before his voice fills your end of the receiver.
“Is this who I think it is calling me this early in the morning?” The grin in his voice is evident when he answers.
Shuffling your feet nervously, the smile on your own face was starting to make your cheeks hurt.
“Do you always answer the phone like this?” You wonder if he can hear yours too.
“Only if I know it’s you.”his tone sends a shiver up your spine, legs pressing together on their own accord.
“And how’d you know that it was me Eddie?” You draw out his name sweetly, silently squealing when you hear the hitch in his breathing from it.
“Because sweetheart, you’re the only one who calls this early for weed.” catching the way he almost whispers the last part, you hear a gruff voice in the background.
“Boy if you don’t leave soon!”
“Sorry, is that a problem? I just wanted to catch you before it was too late.” The urge to crawl in a hole is strong as you slap your palm on your forehead.
Your eagerness to talk to him becoming more than obvious, the man yelling at him in the background definitely wasn’t helping your new bashfulness.
“Pshh are you kidding me? I love it. Get to start the morning off talking to my favorite girl.” He lays his response on thicker than syrup. Your palms start to sweat noting the way he didn’t say customer for the first time.
Your embarrassment subsides for a split second before the voice from before cuts in again.
“If I get another call that you were late again, boy I swear to -“
The line shuffles on the other end and all you can hear is the sounds muffled arguing before another loud rustle, his voice returning with more irritation in it than you’d ever heard before.
“You want the usual?” He’s short when he answers and you know it’s not supposed to be directed at you, but you can’t help but squirm.
“Y- yeah if that’s okay?” You didn’t mean to give yourself away by stumbling over your words, but when you do Eddie makes a quick recovery.
“More than, listen you have a good day at work today Sweetheart. I really gotta go, but check your mailbox when you get home.” Hanging up before you get a chance to finish saying goodbye you hear Eddie yell “I”m leaving alright?!”
——
Work was exceptionally slow for a Friday night, the unexpected thunderstorm that rolled through killed any possibility of a dinner rush. Cutting you less than half way through your shift, your giddy excitement couldn’t be contained. Friday evenings had become non-existent since you started at Enzo’s. So when the opportunity to actually have one came around you couldn’t turn it down. Stopping at Family Video on your way home, Robin helped you pick out something she swore was good while you did your best to ignore the eyes her friend Steve was giving you.
Strumming your fingers against the steering wheel while you listened to Kiss a little too loud, the heavy rain turned into something less than a light drizzle as your tires splashed through puddles. Planning out your evening alone you didn't even think of what this could mean as you pulled into your parking spot hours earlier than normal.
Too caught up in trying to land the notes to I Was Made For Loving You, you didn’t see the van parked in front of your small complex. Head in the clouds with the possibilities of the night mixed with your bad habit of looking down when you walked, you didn’t see who was right in front of you. The sound of the voice you’d been daydreaming for months about cuts through your mumbled singing. Stomach dropping to the floor when you hear
“Son of a bitch.”
Freezing in place, your eyes slowly trail up towards your front door. Standing at almost six feet tall was a curly haired metal head. Mumbling profanities as he struggled against the lid of your mailbox, his jacket looked caught on something. Broad shoulders covered by a battle vest adorned with a giant Dio patch, you still couldn’t see what his face looked like as he struggled with the sleeve of the leather jacket beneath. Taking in his ripped black jeans and scuffed white Reebok’s, your heart was already threatening to beat out of your chest. If his face was cute, you knew you’d be fucked.
A few more violent tugs of his arm, he finally breaks free as your mailbox creaks dangerously close to coming unhinged off the brick wall. His zippers jingle as he shakes out his wrist, flipping up a ring clad middle finger he chuckles proudly to himself before turning around. Big brown eyes meet yours like a deer in headlights, so cute they punch the air out of our lungs.
Yeah, you were fucked.
Brows furrowed under messy bangs his eyes go from your stunned face down to the keys in your hand with your VHS tape before he takes in your frame. Catching the way they linger just long enough to still be polite. He meets your shocked stare as something clicks in his head. A dimple filled smile pushes past his plush lips, yours threatening to do just the same at the sight.
“Eddie?” Surprised you were able to get his name out of your mouth, his face seems to light up even more as his suspicions were confirmed.
“That depends.” Rocking on his heels he crosses his arms over his chest “Favorite, is that you? Cause boy, you’re even cuter than you sound.”
Blood rushing to your cheeks hearing your nickname in person like this, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth at his compliment.
“That depends.” Looking up at him from under your lashes the dimples in his cheeks deepen at your response.
Twirling one of his curls over his lip, you notice all of his rings “What if it’s your favorite weed dealer?”
Cuter than anything you could have conjured up in your mind you were silently scolding yourself for not meeting him sooner. Straightening your shoulders a little you take a few strides closer to him, watching as his eyes don’t try to hide as they take all of you in.
“I’m sure you call all the girls that, but yes it’s me Eddie.” Smiling bigger than you can help, it’s his turn to take a couple steps closer.
“Nah, that nickname is just for you sweetheart.” Standing close enough to catch hints of corner store cologne trying to cover up cigarette smoke, everything about him made your brain short circuit. Looking down at the movie in your hand his eyebrows raise in disbelief before meeting your eyes again. “Alien?”
“Robin suggested it to me for my unexpected night off.” Flipping it over in your hand to read the back, you could feel his stare on your face rather than on the tape. “Ever seen it?” glancing up at him, he doesn’t try to hide what he was actually looking at.
Nodding, he grins down at you “Buckley’s got great taste.”
Catching the double meaning in his words an electric current that could light up all of Hawkins dances between your bodies. Static vibrating from your fingertips, you couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped between your lips.
The raindrop that hits you between the eyes is jarring, you blink fast before more start a slow and steady decent splattering all around. Raising a large hand up to try and shield his curls he looks annoyed that Mother Nature was cutting his time short.
“I hate to deliver and dash sweetheart, but I don’t wanna keep you in the rain.” Doe eyes taking in your face like he was trying to commit it to memory he moves to step around you.
Panic rises and constricts around your chest as you watch his retreating form, biting the inside of your cheek you work up enough courage to do something you’ve never done. Make the first move.
“Doyouwannwatchitwithme?” Words jumbled together and almost yelled as they fell out of your mouth, your mumbled nonsense stops him dead in his tracks. Turning around, having his full attention like this was making it even harder.
“Come again princess?” The new nickname threatens to send you six feet under when you feel your knees shake. Clearing your throat you gather whatever confidence you can muster under the intensity of his stare.
“Do you want to come watch this movie with me?” Using it as a makeshift umbrella you start walking backwards towards front door “I actually just got this pretty good shit delivered you should try it.”
The smile that breaks across his face is infectious, feeling it in the way your lips stretch so much it makes your cheeks hurt.
“Oh yeah? I mean if you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about, that guy’s got the best shit in town sweetheart.” The laugh he pulls from you, he swears it makes your face glow. “I’d be honored favorite, I thought you’d never ask.”
—-
Your living room lays in a blanket of haze from two joints successfully smoked, touches lingering more and more as you two passed them back and forth. Half way through the movie you were giggling through cupped fingers leaning into him as you both sank deeper into the cushions of your couch. His bad jokes and over the top commentary kept you both laughing with shoulders pressed together for support. Neither one of you making any effort to move when you both finally calm down.
Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you were mesmerized by how handsome he was this close. Your stare following the curve of his round nose to the fullness of not one but both his lips, a light sheen coating them from being freshly licked. The sharp planes of his jaw lead you to the thickness of his neck, catching the silver chain that disappears into his shirt.
Time is an illusion in your foggy brain - especially under his spell, losing yourself trying to remember every curve and scar on his face you stare long enough to to get caught. Chocolate eyes connecting with yours, the corners of his lips tug up and like looking in a mirror yours do you.
“Hey favorite”quiet enough for just you to hear, there’s a soft rasp in his voice from all the smoking.
“Hey Eddie”biting your bottom lip, his eyes watch the way your teeth scrape across the silk of it.
Leather creaking loud enough to hear over the sound of the movie and the rain outside, he drapes his arm over the back of the couch. The dip pulling you deep into the warmth of his chest.
“Is this okay?”for the first time you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he tries to read the expression on your face.
Nodding you slide a tentative hand up his chest feeling his muscle twitch under your palm, looking up at him you repeat his own question.
“Is this okay?”
His hand reaches up to cup the side of your face, the weed helping you melt into his touch as the pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone. Searching your eyes for any sign of protest he nudges his nose with yours. The heat of his breath fans across your parted lips as your eyes flutter closed completely overcome by him being this close.
“Sweetheart, if I’m reading this wrong please tell me now.” Your top lip brushes with his bottom when he asks the question and you think you might combust if you don’t close the gap.
Tilting your head just enough to get what you want, your lips move together like it was something they’d been doing for years. Each lazy drag setting your skin ablaze.
Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip he quietly asks you for more. Granting him access to something you’re sure you’ll never deny him, you don’t hesitate to let him deepen the kiss.
Tongues meeting each other in the middle, they battle for dominance as your fingers find their way into the thickness of his curls. Tugging slightly, you smile into the kiss when a groan erupts from deep in his chest.
With the rest of the world long forgotten, the two of you stay like this for longer than you can keep track of. Hands exploring curves and grabbing hips, it almost becomes too much when you nip his bottom lip.
Eddie’s the one who breaks away reluctantly when the need for oxygen becomes too much, and his body starts to react a little too strongly to your touch. The screen on the TV had gone blue long ago when the movie ended, leaving your dark living room in its pale bright light. The coloring of it all hitting his face just right.
Nudging his nose with yours he leans his head back against the cushions of the couch. Chocolate eyes looking at you through half closed lids, a lazy smile spreading wide across his kiss swollen lips.
“We should probably stop, and I should probably go.”jutting his bottom lip in a pout he catches the disappointment you try to hide flash behind your eyes. “Not that I want to, I just actually had other stops that I was supposed to make tonight, but it’s not like I was going to say no to you inviting me to hangout.”snorting like that was the craziest thing he could ever imagine, his face lights up when he earns a laugh from you.
“Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed if I was them.” Using his chest to try to push yourself up with your hands, he stops you from getting too far. Collecting your lips one last time, he only lets you pull away enough for your noses to stay touched.
“Besides having a few more drop offs, I’m hoping the next time I kiss you like that is after you let me take you on a date?”catching the nerves in his voice, you couldn’t actually believe he thought you’d say no.
“Bold of you to assume there’s going to be a next time.”raising a brow you do your best to remain straight faced as he narrows his eyes at you.
He brushes his lips lightly against yours again before asking “there’s not?”
Giving in almost instantly you add pressure pushing yourself closer, chuckling as he pulls away, you stop trying to fight the smile that’s threatening to spread across your own face.
“Fine, you caught my bluff.” Huffing in mock annoyance, this time he lets you push yourself up.
It still takes another thirty minutes for Eddie to work up enough willpower to get off the couch, your easy conversation and pouty soft lips making it a near impossible feat.
More stolen kisses and stumbled words fill the empty space on the walk to the front door followed by even more before he finally goes. Sweet just like the nickname he gave you, he couldn’t wait to make you his.
——
taglist: @munsonology @munsonmunster @elthreetimes
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn
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That Friday Night
Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
read part one here
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)
a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!
...
You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it.
But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees.
Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’
They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted.
However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous.
Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.
“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!”
You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?”
Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.”
Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers.
“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.”
…
You should’ve changed your mind.
You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you.
You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time.
Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face.
“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands.
God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long.
You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it.
“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-”
“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.”
Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa.
Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!”
“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels.
You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?”
You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus.
Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus.
It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.
Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually.
Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts.
“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job.
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that. The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs.
“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.”
His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you.
Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.”
He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?”
You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was.
Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake.
“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.”
Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?”
He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen.
Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke.
“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again.
God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.
A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet.
“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening.
Photos are fine.
Everyone must be tagged.
Nothing negative.
Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar.
That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines.
You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?”
You nod, “y-yeah of course.”
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over.
He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer.
But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.”
…
By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more.
Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason.
“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.”
Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something?
“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes.
Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there!
And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?
Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.”
You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured.
“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.”
“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not?
“‘Precious babies?’”
You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.”
“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne.
It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him.
He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan.
“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.”
You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”
He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.”
Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close.
“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.”
You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?”
“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.”
“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?”
“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.”
You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent.
He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…”
The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?”
So, you do.
The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name.
From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times.
So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos.
“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music.
You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.”
The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care.
Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back.
You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him.
“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him.
He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.”
“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.”
It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you.
The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes.
You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.”
He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?”
That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.”
His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top.
Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you.
He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right?
You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center.
“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone.
But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid.
“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”
You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.”
He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans.
In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No.
“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.” He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers.
You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?”
You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous.
But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.”
“V-very.”
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!”
He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.”
You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.”
His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”
You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully.
“Fuck, Eddie.”
Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.”
He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft”
He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it.
“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.”
You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?”
He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.”
“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.”
You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?”
The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it.
“Oh god! Please.”
“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.”
And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down.
Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.”
You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.
“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’
“And now… we wait.”
#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#Eddie Munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader#rockstar!eddie x fem!reader
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"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.
Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.
Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.
While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.
Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."
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Other articles include:
An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.
Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.
Writing mistresses.
#writing#essay#essays#lit#literary#funny#lol#drugs#books#humor#reading#better book titles#dan wilbur#bibliophile#pot#d.a.r.e#just say no#comedy
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Seven
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader
Rating: Gen (kind of a crack fic if you ask me)
Summary: You and Javi discuss children
“How many?”
“Hmm?”
“You keep saying children plural. How many do you want?” You asked, flipping through the pages of the magazine idly. You weren’t even reading, just looking at pictures and reading a gossipy headline about some of the other actress.
“Hmmm seven?”
“Fuck no!”
“Why not?”
“Why not? WHY NOT?” You asked, horrified. “Javier, I’m a human being, not a baby making machine. You have a government job and I’m just a lab tech. We will never have 7 kids money unless you pocket some of the cocaine you seize. God, can you imagine if they all wanted to go to law school? Or medical school?”
“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead,” he said, taking the magazine from you and setting it aside. He pulled you into his lap, kissing you neck from behind and making you squirm. “I was focused on how hot you’ll look pregnant.”
“Of course you were. Horndog,” you scolded, pinching the arm that held you close. He hissed, but didn’t loosen his hold, only pulling you in closer.
“Can you blame me? With such a hot girlfriend, a man is bound to let his imagination run wild.”
“Shut up.”
“Five?” He asked, making you angrier.
“Are you trying to have a family or form a basketball team?”
He laughed before kissing her lips. “Four?” He bargained.
“Three is the absolute maximum for me.”
“Then three is good.”
“Yeah?” You asked, softer when you heard the sincerity in the reply that came with no hesitation.
“Mhmm.”
“But everything is up for debate after the first one,” you added, just in case. Pregnancy did not look fun and you didn’t want him holding you to this if you were too fucked up from the first pregnancy to try again. “I might hate being pregnant and never want to have another one again. We might have to be satisfied with one baby.”
“That’s good too, baby. I only want as many children as you’ll give me. Whether that’s one or three or seven.”
“Definitely not seven.” You smiled, adjusting yourself to sit back on the sofa with just your legs in his lap. “And no bargaining on gender either. If we have three daughters, you can’t ask for another one just to try for a son.”
“I would love three daughters. Why do you think I’ll ask you for a fourth one after that?”
“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “Men usually want sons. To teach them soccer or go fishing or whatever.”
“I’ll teach our three daughters soccer. Girls have legs. And I don’t care for fishing anyway. If they want to be with animals, they can take care of the ranch.”
“God, I planning my life out with a ranchero who wants a million kids!” You said, laughing.
“You’re just realizing that?”
“Oh god, I don’t know what’s worse— ranchero or DEA agent. Do you like chop wood shirtless or something? Cause I can’t handle that. I will end up having 7 kids if I saw that.”
“You’re mixing up rancheros with lumberjacks, baby. But I’ll learn to chop wood if you want. And I’ll teach our daughters to chop wood too. And how to shoot. And how to fix a car. Teach them plumbing and everything. So that they don’t have to call their boyfriends at midnight to ask them to fix their sink,” he said, making you giggle at the recollection of that night.
“Oh please, you weren’t complaining,” you scoffed, reminding him of the night he came over to fix your sink and ended up staying all night and all day in your bed.
“Exactly. No boy is slithering into my daughter’s bed like that. I won’t allow it.”
You scoffed. Oh you poor little fool… “You think my father didn’t teach me how to fix my sink, Javier? That I didn’t break it just to invite you over?”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. Let’s have three sons.”
.
.
.
Advent Calendar Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#narcos fic#narcos fanfiction#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x ofc#javier peña x y/n#javier pena x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier pena fic#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fic#all that i've inflicted on the world
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I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao
So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind
You Deserve Better
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
Masterlist
The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.
Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.
———
Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled.
He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.
“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”
“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”
“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”
Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her.
———
She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back.
———
By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs.
He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would.
“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.
She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?”
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe imagine#rafe x you#rafe cameron outer banks#outerbanks#obx#obx fic#obx fanfic#obx imagine
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Can you give me something with barry from obx x innocent!reader and she's like rafe's little Sister and he like tells rafe that she needs to stay with him until he gets ALL his money plsss girls I'm deprived of my word porn 😫 ( Add some smut pleaseeeeeeee )
Honey <🧡 >
Barry (Outer Banks)/reader
a/n: Barry is dark asf in this so if that’s not ur vibe u can request again 🫶🏻 but anyways he’s so hot + I’m picturing s3 Barry 🫦
Warning: slight dubcon, kidnapping, blackmail, mention of guns and drug use (reader gets high), slight age gap? But it’s not really important + the reader is of age // forced oral (m receiving), throatfucking, fingering, the word ‘bitch’ a lot, pussy slapping, p n v, dumbification, loss of virginity, sir kink, sub! Reader, dom! Barry
“Please let me go!”
Your voice is desperate, as Barry shoves you inside of his home. You almost trip over your Mary Jane platforms when your foot hits a step wrong, but Barry catches you with one of his strong arms and pulls you up.
“You know a deal’s a deal, sweet thing’.”
His voice has a slight southern drawl, and you squeak when he pushes you down onto the couch. “Now stay your ass right there.”
You don’t even know how you got into this situation. One minute you’re having drinks with a few friends from your private school, and then the next minute you’re getting dragged away by your brother’s drug dealer. You don’t know exactly what he means by deal. You had never made one with him.
You two had spoken a few times when he spent his time at the Cameron residence when everyone in your family besides you and Rafe were gone. Rafe, being the untrustworthy shit that he is, surprisingly doesn’t despise you like he does your other siblings. In fact, you’ve become his favorite and most important one.
But clearly not important enough, since he’s probably got you involved in his cocaine dealing stuff.
“Did Rafe…” you watch as Barry rummages around in his kitchen cabinets, clearly paying no mind as you speak. “Did Rafe make a deal with you? Or something? I-I have money, I have lot of it—“
“Thirty thousand?”
The number makes your eyebrows raise in surprise. Thirty thousand dollars.. for coke? A“few lines”, as Rafe had called it. Yeah right.
“I-I don’t—“
“Well until then, I’d advise you to keep that stupid little mouth shut.”
His demand scares you, a bit. In fact, this whole situation does. Barry had always been nice to you. Maybe a bit too nice, if anyone from outside the two of you saw the situation (Rafe certainly did). But regardless, you don’t know what’s going to happen if your brother doesn’t get that money.
Barry seems to finally find what he’s looking for inside a wooden drawer. When he pulls it out, it’s a gun.
Bile rises in your throat when you see the weapon, the safety off and, you assume, packed with bullets. He throws it down onto the table in front of you.
“See that?” He asks. You nod heavily, tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“Yes sir.”
You say it dumbly. You don’t know what else to say. Barry’s grin is wide when the words leave your lips.
“You try to run,” Barry starts. His tone shouldn’t be so tantalizing, but it is. “And I’ll use it. So don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
You nod, numb with fear. Barry picks up the gun and moves around the table to sit beside you. He’s exponentially close, his shoulder touching yours as he leans back against the fabric of the couch.
You don’t know what to do, really. What exactly are you supposed to do when your brother’s drug dealer is holding you for ransom? But you play with the hem of your skirt as Barry reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a bag of shiny white powder.
Your face scrunches up and you shiver. He uses his fingers to make a sloppy trail of cocaine on the hilt of the gun. You expect him to do the line he had created, but instead he just shrugs and stares at you for a moment with a glazed look.
“Why don’t you take some?“
You don’t think it’s a request. Your bottom lip catches in between your teeth. You sniffle.
“I don’t want to.”
“Cmon, now,” his tone is like honey but you can hear the threat. “Be a good girl.”
You look down at the drug, stark white against the metal of the shiny weapon and back to him, but you figure you have no choice. You just hope and pray that the addict gene didn’t make its way to you like it did Rafe as you press your nose against the gun. It’s right over Barry’s lap; if you weren’t so plagued with innocence, you would notice how close your face is to his aching prick as you peer over his lap. You jump when you feel the man’s hands twist themselves in your hair.
“Atta girl.”
The drug isn’t something you’re used to. You’re definitely not the type to drink, let alone do coke; but snorting it doesn’t seem as hard as you expected. Your brain is a little fuzzy once you lift your head up.
Barry puts the gun down on the table, and pours some more coke onto the glass in front of him. He snorts up a line, and lets out a low groan. And then he moves back and his hands move to your neck. He twists your strands of hair with two long fingers.
“You’re a pretty little thing, you know that?”
You flush. All the while your high begins to kick in, and you exhale shakily. Your thighs clench together, and you don’t really understand why. “T-Thank you..”
Barry chuckles. His lips are really close to your ear and you notice that he smells really nice. It’s making you a bit dizzy.
“Such good manners for such a good girl.” He praises. You gulp, the feeling of his hand suddenly on your leg making you jump. The man notices, and frowns. “Cmon now, sweetness. I don’t bite.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” You squeak out. He grins, his fingers inching up higher to ghost over the inner part of your thighs.
“Think we can keep ourselves a little busy before your brother gets here, don’t you think?”
You nod, dumbly, as his fingers ghost over your Cherry print panties underneath your skirt. It’s a new sensation; you’ve never been touched like this. You’ve heard it’s what people that are married do, people that love and care for each other. You don’t think this is how you’re supposed to do it.
“W-Wait, Barry—“
But it’s too late now, because his fingers are rubbing your clit in slow, soft circles. You let out a tiny moan, your legs automatically parting against your own will. You can feel an ache bubbling up in your core, your little button starting to throb.
“You’re so wet, goddamn.”
It comes out low and throaty, and when you look down at Barry’s hand you can see that he’s palming his cock through his basketball shorts. You don’t know why, exactly, but your mouth begins to water as you watch the outline of him through the fabric.
“W-Wet?”
Barry breathes out a laugh at your innocence, giving a teasing flick to the bud by thumping it with his thumb and forefinger. You squirm, a small noise of pleasure rippling out of you.
“You’re cunt, darlin’.” He says. “It’s wet. Happens when you start thinking about dirty things.”
You frown as your wetness drips on his hand. “‘M not… ‘m not dirty! I swear!”
“I think you’re lyin’ to me… I think you are.“ His fingertip teasingly ghosts over your hole. “— but that’s okay. I like dirty girls.”
His middle finger sinks inside you to the hilt. You gasp, the sensation making your hips lift off the couch when he curls it. You moan, breathy.
“That— that feels good..”
“I know, angel. And you’re gonna take another one for me, aren’t ya?”
“I-“ you hesitate, but another swipe against your clit with Barry’s thumb has you keening against the couch. “Yeah! Yes, yes, anything, I’ll take anything!”
His forefinger slips in, next. It’s tight fit, but nothing you can’t handle. And when Barry puts you into a chokehold with one of his strong arms, he drags your body into his lap. His bulge hits your ass and you let out a mewl, his fingers never leaving you. His pace increases, his other hand moving from your throat to your skirt. He lifts it up and pulls your underwear to the side so he can watch his fingers move in and out of you.
“These panties are so cute,” he whispers into your ear. Your eyes roll back when your sopping wet cunt begins to make harsh gushing noises. “It’s too bad they’re getting ruined, huh?”
You nod, not a single thought left in your hazy brain. Your ruffle socked feet accidentally kick the table from the pleasure making your body spasm. You barely even acknowledge it, but Barry’s unused arm goes to your neck again and he holds down on each side of your throat.
“Don’t break my shit, bitch,” he growls. “You and your brother owe me enough already.”
“I-I’m sorry!” It comes out choked, scared, and dripping of pleasure all at once. His thumb moves to your clit again. You can feel something inside you building up, a wad of tension threatening to release. Your brows furrow in confusion and you become worried. What if Barry gets mad at you for feeling this way?
“S-Sir—“ your hole throbs mercilessly, face scrunched up. “Barry— think ‘m gonna.. gonna pee! S-Stop!”
“No you’re not, baby,” He chuckles. “You’re gonna cum— only good girls cum. So wet my fuckin shorts, dollface.”
Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, all of your limbs seizing up with tension. Your mind becomes foggy, and you scream as you begin to squirt all over your panties and onto Barry’s thighs.
“That’s it, honey. Shit, look at you…”
You sob, overwhelmed from all the sensation flooding your psyche. You stay against Barry, the warmth of his body bringing you comfort as your eyes droop. But you know you can’t sleep yet; you won’t allow yourself to.
Barry presses a kiss to your neck, begins gesturing for you to get up. You move up on shaky legs. And as bad as it is, you frown when his body leaves yours.
“D-Did I do something wrong, sir?”
He doesn’t reply; he simply presses his lips to yours, harsh and full of want. His strong arms go around your waist and his fingers dance along the hem of your shirt. He moves the fabric up, and up, until your bra is the only thing left on your upper half. You let him do it.
He palms your breasts and you gasp at the sensation. You’ve always been a bit sensitive there.
“Take this off,” he says, gesturing to the cups holding your tits in place. You obey, shyly in clipping your bra and revealing your puffy nipples to him. His mouth goes down to suckle one of the buds into his mouth. He hums around it, scrapes his teeth against the sensitive nerves and then begins unzipping your skirt.
“Any guy ever touched you?” He asks, as your soaked panties become the only thing covering your body. You’re incredibly shy, now.
“No— no one has.”
“Good.” And then he’s taking your panties off, sliding them down your legs and leaving you completely in the nude. It’s invading, incredibly so, but your pussy begins to ache for another orgasm again.
“Sit back down.” Barry demands.
You obey and he sits down next to you. The material of the couch is cold against your skin as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his body with a rough hand. You squirm, trying to find a position that makes you comfortable, and settling with facing him on your knees. He loosens the drawstring of his shorts as he looks down at you with lust glittering in his eyes. You aren’t sure where to put your hands, so you decide to rest one on Barry’s thigh and the other on the couch. He reaches into his now loosened shorts and pulls out his cock.
You gawk, the sight of a dick being an unfamiliar image to you. He’s girthy, perfectly thick and a bit long. Precum pearls at the head of him as he watches your pleading eyes. He grabs your hair, firm.
You gasp when he shoves your face against him. Your ass is up in the air now, your tits pressed flush against his thigh. His tip is wet against your cheek, smearing precum all over your nose and underneath your eyes.
“Feel that?” He purrs.
You nod, dazed. “Yeah..” your hand reaches to touch it, curiosity peaking your interest. “It’s— its really pretty.”
“Yeah?” He gathers a string of his pre onto his finger, brings it up to your face and rubs it teasingly against the opening of your lips while you busy yourself with playing with the base of him. “Get a taste, baby.”
Your face turns a deep cherry red as you shyly stick your tongue out. His arousal coats your tongue, and as disgusting as you feel you can’t help but love the taste of him.
“‘S good,” you murmur. “I— I wan’ more of it.”
“I bet you want my cum all inside, don’t you?”
Your bottom lip turns down and you cutely raise your eyebrows together. “What’s cum? You keep saying that…”
He laughs, genuinely laughs. Your stupidity is amusing to him.
“Dressing in all those short little skirts and lookin’ at me with those pouty lips and you still don’t understand what I’m saying? You really are dumb.”
You shake your head, the words “I’m not dumb” falling from your lips over and over as you lean down and lick up some more of his pre to satiate yourself. Barry’s tongue runs along his bottom lip as he watches you, a large hand going down to stroke your hair out of your face.
“Cum is the stuff that comes out when you get that really good feelin’. “ he explains. “You came earlier, so I bet that little pussy’s coated in it right now.”
You bite your lip, kitten licking his cock once more and then pulling back.
“I wanna make you cum.”
He grabs your hair and pulls you back down. “I know.”
You whine, and then he’s groaning and bucking his dripping length against your lips.
“God, I know that mouth is—“ he doesn’t even hesitate to find the opening of your mouth and slip his tip inside. The taste is odd to you, but not inherently unpleasant. He’s musky and you can smell the scent of his arousal radiating off of him. “—so goddamn good. Fuck yeah, that’s it.”
You moan around him, your mouth swallowing him up more as the weight of his aching prick makes you more and more turned on. You down him as much as you can, his girth making the corners of your glossed lips burn.
“Knew a little kook girl like you would be good at taking dick,” Barry drawls. His hips thrust against your intensely, heavy balls slapping against your chin and spit leaking down them from your gaping mouth. “Cock taste good, baby? Huh?”
The choked moan and the string of drool pooling out of your mouth and down your neck tells him all he needs to know. He chuckles. “Yeah, I bet it does. Drooling little bitch.”
You know he’s right. And as bad as it is, the humiliation that he’s bestowing upon you is pleasurable. Your wetness is dripping down your thighs at his words.
You moan, moving his hands off your head so you can move off of his cock and begin suckling his balls. He moans loud and his fingernails dig back into your scalp again. You’re desperate, desperate to feel his skin and his smell and his taste, and you’re whining while you lick his heavy sack with hard strokes of your tongue.
“God, such a sweet fuckin’ slut. You’re doin’ so good.”
You whimper, downing his cock again and gurgling around him. Your pussy is soaked, and you try to move it around on the material of the couch to get friction. Barry grins when he sees your desperation.
“Needa cum?”
You pull off of him with a pop, eyes looking up at him pleadingly. “Yes sir.”
His fingers touch your swollen clit. Teasingly, just to see you squirm as he shoves his cock in your mouth again. And when he begins to rub harshly, you begin to buck your hips against him. Your second orgasm is already nearing, and when it happens you shake and choke around his length. He gives your pussy a light slap and yanks you off of him. Your mascara is smeared, lipstick staining the edges of your mouth and your hair stuck to your forehead in messy strands. Barry pulls you up to give you another kiss. And then he pulls you onto his lap again.
And in the midst of your lips on his, you hear his phone ring.
It’s on the nightstand next to the couch. An easy reach for him, and as he grabs the phone you see the words ‘COUNTRY CLUB’ flash across the screen in bold white letters.
Your eyes widen, shaking your head as Barry chuckles out, “damn, sweetness. It’s your brother.”
“Please… d-don’t let him—“ you cry, exasperated, as Barry presses his bare cock to your entrance. “Don’t let him know what I did— please! He’ll be so mad at me…”
The older man grins as he holds you down onto his cock; not quite in just yet, but it makes you quiver thinking about him stretching you out. He mocks you with a bullying tone.
“Aww, don’t worry honey.” He coos. “I won’t tell your big brother you’ve been a bad girl. Just let me pick up this call.”
Relief almost washes over you, if it wasn’t for the fact that Barry is still pressed flush against you. It’s making it hard for you to concentrate. He presses the green button, signaling that he’s answered the call.
“Where is she.”
Rafe’s voice sounds on the other line, and he’s extremely pissed.
“Perfectly fine, country club. In fact, I think she’s having the time of her life right now” Barry quips, as if you’re not dripping down his cock with a look of shame on your face. “I just need my money..”
He pauses, watching as your eyes furrow closed and you begin to move against him. You’re lost in your own pleasure now. You can’t help it. The sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit has you clenching and aching to release. You bury your face in his neck, trying to contain your whimpers.
“Look, man,” Rafe starts. He doesn’t like the way those words spewed from Barry’s lips. It makes him uneasy.
“I’ll— I’ll get your money, okay? Just— promise me you won’t hurt her. Please.”
“Oh,” Barry lets out a laugh. “We’re far from that.”
He lifts your hips with one of his hands. His tip begins to probe your entrance You gasp as your walls sink down on him.
“In fact, I think I can drown out your little debt and set you up for another month.”
#Barry (obx)#Barry obx#Barry (obx) x reader#Barry (obx) x fem! reader#Barry (obx) x innocent! reader#Barry (obx) x Bimbo! reader#obx#outer banks#Barry outer banks#Barry obx fanfiction#Barry obx smut
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A Different Kind of High
Tate Langdon x f!reader
warnings: use of marijuana, smut, p in v, unprotected, slight fingering, lose of virginity, slight innocence kink? lmk if there’s any others!!!
summary: you died a virgin, but that doesn’t mean you need to be one as a ghost…
word count: 1.9k
~~~
“I stole some weed from the newbies, you want some?” Tate asks as he hops up on what used to be your bed.
You’ve been dead for only a few months, living in the imfamous Murder House for a year prior. It was strange being dead, seeing people pass by on the street everyday knowing that’ll never be you again. You suppose this was what you deserved, after all you committed suicide. But never during your life did you think this was what being dead would be like. Trapped in a house with a dozen other ghosts for eternity.
Tate has been your friend since before you died, of course you didn’t know he was a ghost until you joined him on the other side. He’s charming, very down to Earth. You really don’t know much about him, even now. You’ve heard whispers about him being crazy, and you believe it. Sometimes through the night you hear his screams, his murderous laughter. It doesn’t bother you though. You’re already dead, what’s the worst he could do?
“I’ve never smoked before,” you reply.
He chuckles. “Are you serious?”
You turn red. “You saw my parents, they never let me do anything. When I used to go out they’d make me be back by nine. Even on weekends. I always figured they’d know so I didn’t bother.”
“At least tell me you’ve drank.” You shake your head, a small laugh escaping at the face Tate makes. “Have you done anything?”
“I kissed a boy when I was twelve,” you answer honestly.
“Was that your only kiss?”
“Yeah…” You mumble.
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re this innocent, I always thought girls with strict parents did the dirtiest things,” he replies. He grabs the baggie of weed out of his pocket and holds it up. “You’re going to try this, and you’re going to love it.”
You don’t object, and instead watch as Tate begins to role a joint. He does it effortlessly, he’s done it many times before. You know from previous conversations that he’s done drugs much stronger than weed, the main one being cocaine. You had asked him how it felt to do it, to be alive and on a drug so strong. He told you it felt like he needed to run a mile while he was high. He also made you promise to do it with him one day.
When he finishes rolling the joint he offers it to you. “You want the first hit?”
“Fuck it, yeah,” you say.
He gives you a smile that makes butterflies swirl in your stomach. Though the two of you are only friends, you can’t deny how attractive Tate is. Even though everythings only been platonic, sometimes with certain looks and phrases, he makes you feel some special type of way.
You take the joint inbetween your lips, your eyes locked on Tate. He grabs a lighter and lifts it to the other end of the joint.
“I’d usually say take a small hit, but usually it takes a little more to get us high so take as much as you think is necessary,” he explains before lighting the end.
You inhale deeply, the smoke it hot and you know if you were alive it would burn your lungs completely. Thankfully though, it only stings a little. After a few seconds Tate takes it from your lips and you exhale slowly, watching as he repeats your actions. You lean back against the pillows, you feel a little something.
“How long does it usually take to get high?” You ask.
“I dunno a few minutes I guess, why? Do you feel it?”
Your head feels light and the room looks brighter. “I think so, I feel… lighter.”
“Oh yeah, you’re high,” he replies with a laugh.
He lays beside you on the bed, both of you staring at the ceiling in silence. You hear him take a few more puffs of the joint, wondering how he does’t feel anything yet. Your whole body feels electrified, every muscle alive and thriving. You almost feel like how you did before you died, almost. It makes you smile.
“Why did I never try this before…” you mumble, a small laugh leaving your lips. “Fuck I feel good.”
“I know right, it’s pretty great.”
You turn your head and stare at him. “Can I tell you a secret?”
He meets your gaze. “Of course.”
You don’t know where the sudden burst of honesty comes from. Usually, you’re embarrassed to talk about anything you did or more specifically didn’t do in your life. However, as you stare into Tate’s dark eyes you feel the urge to tell him every little detail about you.
“I died a virgin,” you whisper. “Like I never even got fingered or anything.”
You stare at each other for another few seconds before you both burst out into laughter. You don’t know why it’s so funny, but it is. You feel amazing, like you’re on top of the world. But you also feel like every word that comes out of your mouth is hilarious.
“I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry,” you say as the laughter dies down. “I’m so stupid.”
“Hey, you aren’t stupid. I know a few other ghosts died virgins, like the nurses,” he replies, that stupid smirk on his face.
“God don’t say that!” You exclaim. “At least they chose to die virgins, I tried to hard to be fucked before I died but every time I started to become interested in someone my stupid parents ruined it.”
Tate props his head up on his hand so he’s now looking down at you. “Well on the brightside your parents are gone now so you can fuck anyone you want.”
“Yeah but the options aren’t exactly ideal. There’s really only Travis, but he’d definitely not be the best option for a first time,” you laugh.
“I’m here too you know.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“You know what I mean,” Tate answers, his voice quieter than before.
Your laughter stops at his words, and you meet his eyes once again. This time, you can sense something lingering behind his eyes, something you haven’t ever noticed before. You smile, trying to ease the tension that’s filled the room. He’s probably just messing with you. However, he doesn’t smile back at you, his expression stays the same.
You’re in disbelief. Is this real? Is your best friend really telling you he’d take your virginity? This can’t be real, you think. Maybe it’s just because of the weed, maybe it’s doing something to your head. You can’t deny the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of it though. Tate would be a good first. He’s experienced, but not with too many people. You find yourself suddenly imaging it, how it would feel, sharing that experience with someone you truly enjoy being around. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide.
“All right,” You say. You kick your shoes off without breaking eye contact. “Is it going to hurt?”
He smirks and follows your actions. “It usually does the first time.”
You smile and start undoing the buttons on your jeans. You know if you hadn’t taken that puff of the joint you’d be selfconcious getting undressed in front of Tate. He watches you carefully as you remove your pants, your shirt, even your bra. It’s silent, but not an awkward silence, more of a comforting silence. You only look away from him as you slowly pull your panties off and throw them into the newly formed pile of your clothes.
It’s your turn to watch now. Your eyes trail up and down Tate’s body as he slowly undresses. He’s so beautiful, his body is perfect. You can’t stop yourself from reaching over and running your fingertips over the toned muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes meet once again and you almost shiver at how full his eyes have become with lust.
Quickly, he leans his head down and connects your lips to his. The kiss is slow at first, like you’re treading the water. But as you start to understand how it works, you move your lips against his, following his motions. The soft gentle kiss becomes full of passion. You twirl your fingers in his soft blond curls, loving the way his breathing gets heavier as you do so.
He moves on top of you, hit body fitting between your legs swiftly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin feels like it needs to be touched. Tate rests one of his hands beside your head and the other begins to slide down your chest, your stomach, till it reaches the place it was searching for. You feel him smile into the kiss.
“So excited already…” he mumbles.
His fingers run between your folds, collecting the wetness that’s already begun to drip out of you. He circles them on your clit for a few minutes, making you moan from the new but amazing feeling. After that he slides his pointer finger down to your entrance.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Thank you?” He chuckles. He begins to slowly push his finger inside you and you grab his free arm.
“Thank you for doing this,” you clarify.
“I like how innocent you are, but I can’t lie I’ve always dreamt of being the one to rip that innocence away,” he whispers.
Before you can reply he lowers his head to your neck and begins to leave sloppy kisses along your skin. You can’t believe this is really happening. Once his finger is fully inside you, he starts to thrust it in and out at a slow pace. You moan, your back arching off the matress. He continues this for a few minutes before adding a second, preparing you perfectly for what’s going to come next.
He kisses down your chest until he’s at your breasts. He sucks and licks your nipples, it feels amazing. You can’t take it any longer, you need him. You grab his chin and connect your lips. He kisses you harder than before, biting and sucking your tongue into his mouth. You love it. You can’t get enough of it.
“I’m ready Tate,” you say breathlessly as your lips part. “I want to do it.”
“All right.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you watch him position his hard dick on your entrance. He looks down at you, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. “If it hurts to bad just tell me and I’ll stop okay?”
You nod, and before you can say anything else he starts to move. It hurts, but not too bad. Tate kisses you as he does this, it makes the pain more bearable. You wrap one of your hands around his back, your nails slowly dragging across the skin of Tate’s back. He only kisses you harder. His thrusts are slow, but your thighs still clench around his hips.
After a few minutes he asks if he can go faster, you tell him yes. The pain slowly morphed into a small pleasure that you enjoy. You continue to claw at his back, even more as his pace inscreases. You’re out of breath, the only sounds in the room being your moans along with Tate’s heavy breathing. It’s pure bliss.
The end comes faster than you want, but you don’t mind. You love the way Tate whispers your name as he cums, and how strongly his dick pulses inside you. You hold him close after it’s over, his skin against yours makes you feel alive again.
“Was it okay?” he asks as he lays on you.
“It was perfect,” you answer.
And so it was.
#evan peters#evan peters smut#evan peters x reader#fanfiction#james march x reader#jimmy darling#kai anderson#kit walker#tate langdon#tate langdon x y/n#fanfic#tate langdon fanfic#tate ahs#american horror story#murder house#ahs murder house#smut#tate langdon smut#luke cooper x reader#female reader#i love him#tate langdon x you#american horror murder house
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Friends with Benefits
Rafe Cameron x fem reader
After your confession to Rafe goes badly, he finds out you have a boyfriend. But you will always belong to him.
Warnings! Unprotected sex! Slapping! Spitting! Slight angst but ends happily! Daddy kink! Light choking! Not proofread! W.C 2.5K thank you to my sexy @xxbimbobunnyxx for always beta reading!!!
You were laying on your back, Rafes thick cock filling you up as he thrusted deep and hard inside you, leaking cum into you and onto the mattress. His thrusts came to a halt, sweat came off his forehead as you both moaned in each other's mouths. It was the third round, you both had been apart for a few days too long. Something that rarely happened in the months you both had been hooking up. Rafe rolls off you, wiping off his face with a hand and you sigh as the painful reality starts to hit.
After you both have sex, he never stays.
It happened the first time at one of his parties, one you had been invited to by your cousin Barry who was responsible for providing cocaine and booze when you had met Rafe. He was charming, hot and rich. His body was like a god’s, long with lean muscle strong enough to pin you down on the bed and fuck you relentlessly as he did nearly everyday. Multiple times in a row. You were familiar with his dick and the way it filled you up expertly, hitting every pleasurable sweet spot you had.
But there was one issue.
You actually had fallen in love with him. Why wouldn’t you be? He was everything you wanted. Strong, independent, crazy, passionate and a slew of other things most people didn’t pay attention to once he flashed them his credit card. Something he used on you too. He bought you clothes, updated your car, phone and your meals whenever you both actually hung out somewhere. He treated you decently, for his reputation at least.
You lean on your elbows as Rafe gathers his clothes on the ground, slipping on his t-shirt. “You’re not staying?”
He paused and shuffled around pulling on his shorts. “No. Why? I never stay.” He says to himself and absently waves you off. You swallow with a pang of hurt before wrapping yourself up in the sheet.
“Maybe you could this time. I don’t want you to leave.” He stopped this time, giving you an incredulous look and curled his lip.
“I don’t get it? What is it? Is something wrong?” He asked and you were losing your nerve as you tucked a hair behind your ear.
“Nothings wrong, I just want you to stay with me. You never do.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know that’s why I’m leaving. What’s gotten into you? Been acting weird all fucking day.”
“I’m not acting weird I’m just asking a question.” You said defensively and he set his hands on his hips.
“Why? Why do you want me to stay?”
That was the question of the hour. One you wanted to answer and run from. But you promised yourself if you had the opportunity, you would be honest with him. So you took a deep breath and spoke. “Rafe. I want you to stay with me because…I have feelings for you. This isn’t just fucking for me anymore. It’s more. And I want-“
“Stop.” His voice was stern as he stepped closer to the bed and bent down to your lower. “That’s a mistake. I told you from day one what this is and what it will always be. Just sex. If you can’t handle that, then it’s not my problem.”
You felt your heart shatter as he stormed out of the room, leaving you broken. You buried your face in your hands and started crying. How could you be so stupid? How could you even consider he would feel the same way about you as you did for him? He was Rafe Cameron for god's sake. Why did you even bother telling him? Your own personal resolve? It was stupid and so were you.
You got out of his bed, put on your dress and shoes. You reapplied your makeup. If you were going to be sad, you were at least going to look good at the same time.
Rafe hadn’t seen you-fucked you-in over a week. You kept avoiding him and he hated it. His hand went to knock on your door, he knew the way to your house with his eyes closed but he hadn’t expected another car to be in the driveway. It wasn’t anyone he knew. So some stranger was here? Maybe a new friend?
It wasn’t like he was extremely active in your personal life but he knew you well enough. Several seconds went by as he waited at the door and he grit his teeth impatiently. What the hell was taking you so long?
He was about to call you when you opened the door. He arched an eyebrow as he took in your nice sundress. You usually never wore it unless you were going out. Your hair was braided with a flower crown. He crossed his arms with a pang of…what was it? Interest? Of course not.
“Took you long enough. Why haven’t you texted me back?”
“I’m not at your beck and call, Rafe. You know that right?” You quipped and he snorted. Attitude too?
“Yeah, whatever.” He rested a hand on the doorframe above you, leaning down with the intention of kissing you when a male voice called your name.
Rafe’s eyes narrowed when he saw a tall, not as tall as Rafe, male with brown eyes and brown hair. He could just tell by the way he was dressed that he was a pogue too. He gave him a look and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Pulling you against him and Rafe wanted to reach forward and punch him in the face.
“Something wrong?” He stared at the other male who asked you that question.
“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” Rafe shouts and moves forward but you hold up your hand.
“This is my boyfriend. Josh.”
“Josh? He’s a fucking pogue,” Rafe spat out the last word and Josh immediately straightened his shoulders but you stepped inbetween them.
“Give me a minute.” You said before shutting the door and stepping onto the porch. Rafe crossed his arms and flexed his jaw. He couldn’t stop himself from being upset even though he knew logically he had no right to be.
“Rafe. You need to go.” You told him softly. “You need to leave and we can’t talk anymore. I have a boyfriend. And whatever that was? It’s over.”
Rafe laughed humorlessly. “You can’t be fucking serious. Is this because of what I said last week? Is this some kind of joke?”
Your eyes hardened and you stepped closer. “No. It’s not a fucking joke, Rafe. I’m in a relationship now. And it has nothing to do with the other day.”
“Bullshit. As far as I’m concerned-“
“Enough!” You shouted and pointed at his chest. “This isn’t about you, Rafe! It’s about me for once. I met him. And now, we’re going out. It’s that simple. Don’t like it? You had your fucking chance, asshole. And you treated me like shit. And this conversation is over.” You spin around at that and slam the door behind you.
Right in his face.
Rafe knew he had made a big mistake as his eyes squeezed shut. He was an asshole to you. Pushed you away too far. And now…
He’d lost you.
You hadn’t talked to him in six months. Half a year and now you were pounding on his door after 3am crying when he opened it, eyes wide with a range of emotions. “What the fuck?” He muttered before ushering you in. “Get in here, it’s raining.”
You quickly stepped into his house, wiping away tears and smearing your mascara. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” You sobbed and Rafe immediately set his hands on your shoulders.
“It’s okay. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” You were back. In front of him. And he wasn’t going to ruin any chance he had. He was afraid you’d disappear again.
Your blue dress was almost black from the rain. Your shoes probably ruined from the mud, you didn’t drive?
“Did you run here?”
You nodded. “Yeah, Josh was driving my car. And we…we got into a fight.” Rafe stiffened and his blood went cold as you lifted up your arm.
You had a hand print around your wrist.
“Did he do this to you?” He growled when you nodded again with watery eyes.
“Yeah. He didn’t want me to hang out with my friends today. And I told him I could do whatever I wanted so he grabbed me. Wouldn’t let go either. I finally just got out of the car and started running. We were close by so…” you sniffled and Rafe felt nothing but rage at your confession.
How dare anyone put a hand on you?
“I’ll be right fucking back.” He says with a set jaw. You step in front of him.
“No, where are you going?”
“Where do you think I’m going? I’m gonna fuck him up.” Rafe tries to move around you but your hands fly to his chest, holding his shirt.
“No, no, don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go. Not again.” You buried your face against him, crying harder and rafe was frozen for a second.
Don't leave again. Your words echo in his mind as his arms encircle your shoulders and pull you even tighter against him in a warm embrace. He wasn’t accustomed to hugging people. He didn’t have anyone close enough to him to encourage such motions but now…he could stay like this forever. Your head tucked underneath his chin, arms around his waist. You were still crying but he knew you felt safe.
He said your name quietly after several seconds and gently tugged you back. “Listen, I want to say something.” And he cleared his throat. Months of waiting, hoping and even fucking praying that he would get a chance to speak was finally in front of him and he didn’t want to fuck it up.
“I know, I’m sorry.” You stepped out of his hold, wiping underneath your eye. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. You have better things to do. I’ve stayed here too long.” You shrugged and gave him a fake smile. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Bothered me? You’re not bothering me, I want to tell you something.” He tried to interrupt but you kept going.
“It’s stupid. Me coming here. Especially with how we last ended things. I know I showed up completely without warning-“
Rafe crushed his lips to yours, silencing you and causing you to make a surprised sound. His fingers set on your hips while his other hand cupped your jaw and he sucked your lower lip, slipping his tongue inside briefly before stopping the kiss. “Just let me talk,okay?” He said breathlessly and briefly rested his forehead against yours before taking a step back.
“I’m sorry. For everything. I never should have left you. I-I like you, okay? I always have, I was just too much of a pussy to admit it. And I was an asshole. You didn’t deserve that.” It wasn’t much of an apology but Rafe wasn’t good with words. “But you’re mine. I don’t fucking share. And Josh or whoever he thinks he is, he’s done. When I deal with him, he’ll know that.” He promises you.
He waited for you to speak as you bit your swollen lower lip and looked at him with big doe eyes. His gaze trails down, you were pressing your knees together. “Let me ask you something…” Rafe began. “Did he fuck you as good as I do?”
You gasped at his question and he smirked. “I asked you something, baby girl. It’s bad manners if you don’t answer. Or did he allow that too? Did he let you act like a bad girl?” Rafe nudged your knees apart with his, causing you to gasp and your back hit the wall.
“He didn’t fuck me as good.” You whispered and Rafe nodded.
“Course he didn’t. He doesn’t know you the way I do. He doesn’t know how to please that tight little pussy. But that’s okay. I’m gonna show you exactly how well I remember you.” He reached down, lifting you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he met your lips.
Rafe kissed you with a feverish passion as he kicked open his bedroom door, slamming you on the mattress without breaking the kiss. You tasted sweet like sugar as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, searing you with a force you’d missed for six months.
He lifted up your skirt, revealing that you weren’t wearing any panties. Rafe laughed darkly. “That’s my girl. Always a fucking slut.” He separated your thighs, showing your arousal pooling out of you and he dragged a finger along your slit. “Dumb little bunny. Thinking this could ever be for anyone else.” He circled his thumb on your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed.
His digit stays there before he trails them down, pressing a finger inside your entrance, making you moan underneath him as he wraps his other hand around your neck. He pushes another one inside, curling them both upward and you mewl.
“Oh fuck, daddy I needed this.” You manage and he smirks down at you as you’re struggling to even speak.
“Yeah? Needed daddy to fuck you?” He says against your neck, pumping harder causing you to whimper and claw at his shoulders.
“Mhm, please fuck me with your cock. Want you to fill me up.” You beg him and he smiles wickedly.
“Since you asked so nicely, baby girl.” He pulls back, sucking his fingers before tugging off his pants and boxers. His dick low and heavy in between his thighs. His thick tip presses against your clit as he rolls his hips, teasing you and you whine louder.
“Please, daddy, god, please!” He finally grants your wish and thrusts into you. Hard.
The bed squeaks against the floor as he rocks forward, your hand wraps around his throat, choking him gently and he groans and licks his teeth. “That’s fucking it. That’s my girl.” He rasps and picks up his pace.
He humps you with a brutal rhythm, no source of kindness in his movements as he fucks you. “You. Are. Mine.” He growls as you tighten around him. “Say it, fucking slut. Tell me.” He lightly slaps your cheek and you gasp.
“I’m yours, daddy!” He taps the other side of your face.
“Again.”
“I’m yours!”
“Again.” He spits in your mouth, making you swallow it and you shudder, releasing all over his cock as you scream out.
“I’m yours, daddy! Fuckkk!!” You squeal and he bursts inside you, filling you up just like he promised and it drips onto the sheets. He continues thrusting, messily searing you before he collapsing on you, his lips resting on your forehead.
You’re shocked at the tender way he kisses your head, peppering your skull and hairline as he rolls off, pulling you to his chest. His fingers trace your shoulder, goosebumps raising on your skin as breaths in and out. “I’ll never leave you again. I’m sorry I ever did.”
“I know.” You answer back and blink away watery eyes. “Let’s just stay like this for a while, okay?” You ask and he nods.
“Always. But I’m still gonna fuck him up.”
@drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @gri959 @oceandriveab @rafescurtainbangz @rafesthroatbaby
#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x you#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine
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Dirty Little Secret
Even with a roster of sexual partners, Derek Danforth keeps coming back to you.
(Derek Danforth x GN! Reader)
A/N: I conjured this idea basically the moment Wallace started laying into Derek lmfao. You don’t have to have watched The Beekeeper to understand this (It’s chaotic and generic, but I had fun!) - Just know Derek is a coke and vape addicted, multi-millionaire crypto-selling playboy scammer who’s also the son of a president?😭
The place mentioned in this fic (‘The Warehouse’) is fictional and not featured in the movie!
Word count: 1.3K
Tags: SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Drug usage (Cocaine) / WARNING: READER DOES A HIT OF COCAINE / Oral sex, M receiving / Degradation / Dirty talk / Implications of cheating / A little angsty, if you squint / This is just Reader giving Derek a blowjob so Minors DNI
‘Need u. Meet me at The Warehouse’
You needn’t check the message twice to know who it was.
There was only one person in your life who spoke to you like this; who disappeared on most weekdays, only to show up on weekends between the hours of midnight to 5AM without a care in the world. The man’s name was Derek Danforth, a guy who ‘just happened’ to be the son of now President, Jessica Danforth.
You hadn’t met him through any lavish political gala, nor from a meet-and-greet after an inspiring TED Talk - no, he’d chosen the oh-so classy way to slide into your DM’s on Instagram. You’d come to know that fast and sleazy was Derek’s brand.
At first you’d thought it was a scam, not wanting to believe that a millionaire would even bother to speak to you, but a quick $100 transfer into your linked account had told you otherwise.
‘Think I’m real now?’ He’d messaged back, and it was from there that he’d sent a valet to your place for what was supposed to be a hookup.
He’d fucked you so good that night; the feel of his fingers gripping your ass as he pounded into you from behind still etched into your skin. He’d left marks; from marks sourced from his rabid teeth on your neck, to marks from the metal of his rings that had dug tiny scratches into your flesh. He hadn’t shut up the entire time, grunting and groaning in your ear about how much of a dirty slut you were, and how good your tight hole felt against his cock. He’d probably said that to all the people he’d fucked.
Still, it got to you, and apparently to him also. What started as an unsuspecting DM turned into full contact, with 3AM calls and erotic FaceTime sessions. Derek was often high off of coke, or drunk, or somewhere in between, all whilst puffing on his vape, huffing the thick white air like a dragon. Fitting, because he was dangerous.
And you’d been pulled into his shiny lair once again.
The Warehouse, or what you liked to aptly dub the ‘Whorehouse’ was an underground club, apparently run by Derek’s dealer. Yes, Derek hadn’t even had the courtesy to take you to one of his many properties to do his business, deciding that a sweaty basement would be best for you.
At least you could somehow remain anonymous.
“Knees, now. I want a blowjob,” Derek said in his usual dismissive tone as he slumped on a red couch before leaning forward and sprinkling a white powder on the table. You rolled your eyes as he snorted it, watching as he ran a hand through his mullet, absorbing the endorphins into his bloodstream.
He looked up at you with furrowed brows. He wasn’t one used to dealing with insolence.
“I don’t have all day.”
“Jeez, a ‘hey’ would be nice,” you grumbled. “I had to work overtime, I barely even got settled at home —“
“So? I don’t fucking care,” he scoffed. “There’s a couch, you can settle here.”
You knew damn well there wasn’t going to be any ‘settling’. And as much as you hated it, you loved it.
Derek spread his legs expectedly as you dived between them, struggling with his zipper to take out his hard cock. It didn’t matter if he was average sized - he'd more than proved himself to know how to use it. Still, it never got lost on you as to how thick he was, the filling sensation of his cock in your mouth for the first time becoming one of your favourites.
He was already leaking precum, and you wasted no time in licking the fluids up before moving down to the rest of his length, with your hand planted firmly on the base of his cock. You started off with slow, but deliberate motions, desperate to feel his girth in every crevice of your mouth, motivated by the male’s drawn out moans. His head was flung back against the top of the couch, arms spread as he basically gave himself up to you - one of the rare times he would only surrender.
Until he got impatient and placed his hands on the back of your neck, grip firm as he began to drag your head up and down his length, demanding you increase the pace. Pools of spit began to build up inside of your mouth as he did, accommodating to the sudden force. Every time you retracted from his length, the pink flesh began to glimmer; shine, even, as you serviced it. To some, it was a taboo and demeaning act, but to Derek, it was the ultimate act of your submission and devotion to him. To this day, even a year on from your first encounter, you couldn’t understand why he kept coming back to you.
“Fuck,” he drawled, clenching his teeth down on his bottom as he heaved. “You’re so fucking good at this - It’s like you were just made for my cock…”
The statement caused your stomach to backflip, only encouraging you to take him deeper. His thick head was now inches away from the back of your throat, threatening to make you gag. Unfathomably, you seemed tempted to take that risk, but Derek intervened.
“Here,” he said flatly as he gently pushed you off of him, leaning down towards the table. “Try this,”
He rolls up a fifty and guides your head along the white powder. Your nose tingles and your heart clenches a little, but there’s no immediate effect.
“It’ll take a while, but trust me, you’ll fucking feel it,” Derek smirks, drawing you from your thoughts. “Good thing we’ve got all night,”
It wasn’t long before you were back on his cock, vessel gripped firmly in your hand as you began to stroke him up and down, in tandem with the movements of your neck.
“You’ve never had blow like this before,” he laughs, hands frantic as they gripped at his thighs, trying to hold them still. “Then again, you’ve never had a dick like this before either, hm? Don’t you have a boyfriend to go home to? Poor guy. I must have you whipped…”
Desperate to respond, you popped his cock out of your mouth, but he held up a hand to
silence you.
“I really don’t need to fucking hear it,” he chuckled. “You’re such a slut, you know that? You suck my dick, moan like a bitch, and keep coming back for more, but here you are arguing with me…I’m beginning to think you like this little relationship of ours,”
Who was he kidding? You both knew the truth.
You hummed, and Derek ran his tongue over his teeth, his bouncing leg beginning to quicken. His hands found your head, gripping the back of your neck as his cock began to twitch, vein throbbing against the flat of your tongue. He was always his most animalistic in the heat of the moment; and even though you enjoyed the culmination of your hard work, it was also the time where he spouted things, words and phrases that you knew were nothing but bullshit, and yet clouded your eyes with hope.
“Moan for me,” he grunted, pupils blown as they focused on the pornographic display below him. “Tell me that I’m the best you’ve ever had,”
You let out a whine, and he hummed.
“Worship me,” he continued. “Show me how much you love me…Fuck – Open your mouth…!”
Swiftly, Derek removed his aching member from your mouth, eyes wide as he watched a bridge of saliva form from your raw lips to his skin. With a few slick pumps, his fell half lidded as he came over your face, streaks of white fluid coating your cheeks and lips, with some even falling in your lashes and dripping onto your nose. He convulsed, as if he were temporarily losing grip on his sanity and panted as he tried for air. He ran his hands across his beard before he cupped your cheek, an indiscernible look in his eye before he patted it.
“Clean yourself up. I want you nice and fresh for round two.”
It pained you that you were so enthusiastic to oblige.
#florence writes!!#derek danforth x reader#derek danforth#the beekeeper#derek danforth smut#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt x reader#x male reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral fanfic
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i know our mornings (were as good as it ever could be)
synopsis: eddie thinks he's doing a pretty good job at hiding his relationship with the youngest dunne sister. until he isn't.
warnings: smut, dirty talk, usage of alcohol & drugs, billy dunne
a/n: thank you so much for the love on the previous eddie post! this is shit but it's eddie smut and that's all that matters
♡
It all happens so fast you think you’ve imagined it - one minute you’re snorting your (fourth, maybe fifth) line of coke and reaching for another glass of beer, and the next you’re being pulled by your belt loops until you can breathe in the fresh evening air through your slightly powdery nostrils. You’re still looking down at your feet, hands outstretched and trying to regain your balance, which is a surprisingly hard thing to do using a coked-up brain, when the mystery assailant, probably Billy, starts speaking. You sigh and brace yourself for yet another lecture.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Welp, that’s definitely not Billy. You don’t know if you should be happy about it or not.
You look up and meet Eddie’s eyes, his eyebrows so furrowed that the annoyed wrinkle between them is especially pronounced - you want to reach out and smooth it out with your fingers, you want to tell him that as hot as he looks when he’s pissed off, he shouldn’t be getting wrinkles this early on. You don’t do any of that.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” You respond instead, putting a hand on your hip with such force that you make yourself stumble a little bit. In the blink of an eye, Eddie is holding you by the waist, concerned, and you pray to every single entity out there to just make the goddamn sequin dress separating your bodies disappear into thin air, simply to feel his large hands against your skin. “I’m having fun.”
Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh and tilts your head upward, cleaning up the cocaine residue around your nose. A part of you finds it weirdly cute.
“Too much fun.” He tells you and you shake your head.
“I’ve seen you do, like, six lines one after another. You can’t just lecture me when you do the exact same thi-”
“That’s because I’m used to it, I can handle it.” Eddie interrupts, grabbing you by the chin gently. He’s looking at you right in the eyes, wanting to drive his point home, but all you can focus on is his lips. “You could barely handle a shot of whiskey before and now you’re drinking and doing lines like you’ve done it all your life.”
You roll your eyes, although you understand what he’s trying to say.
“Eds, just leave me alone. I’m not going to die or somethin’. I’m just having fun.” You defend yourself, but the hiccups in-between your words do absolutely nothing to convince the man in front of you.
In fact, something flashes in his eyes. It’s a look you see rarely, but one you recognize as the look he gets when he sets his mind to something. You don’t get to dwell too much on it, because he’s crouching and picking you up, and before you know it, you’re thrown over his shoulder with such ease it makes something at the bottom of your stomach flutter.
“Eddie, put me down, now! What are you doing!?” You protest and hit his back with your fists as hard as you can, waving your legs in the air. He doesn’t even flinch and instead places a hand on your calf and squeezes, a gesture you can only interpret as “calm the fuck down” - and something in you listens, despite the drugs and liquors in your system screaming at you to keep acting bratty.
You vaguely recognize Warren’s wolf-whistling at the pair of you, but you don’t pay him any attention - by the time he’s asked for your room key at the reception desk in that deep voice that drives you crazy and you’re in the luxurious elevator, you’re already half-asleep but still have enough leftover energy to complain.
"Can you put me down now? You’ve proved your point.”
In response, Eddie’s hand moves higher up your leg, slipping underneath your dress. You can feel yourself blushing as he starts drawing circles on your inner thigh.
“Hm, I really don’t think I have, sweetheart.” He tells you and you want to strangle him for knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you speechless.
The rest of the elevator ride is spent in torturous silence, as he absentmindedly drags his fingers across your skin and you stubbornly hold in your whimpers and gasps, because you’d rather die on the spot than have him know how sensitive his touch makes you.
Only he can make me feel like this, you think to yourself in a striking moment of clarity.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at your floor. Eddie confidently walks towards your room and opens it - as soon as the door closes, he strides over to the bed and gently drops you onto it. You’re looking at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time, as he removes your heels. When he stands up and kisses your forehead, ready to leave so you could get some sleep, you grab him by the collar.
Sleep is the last thing on your mind right now.
You kiss him hard, and he responds immediately - you feel his heart thumping when your chests press against each other, and you’re pretty sure he can feel yours too. He moans into your mouth when you tug on his hair and you feel like you’re on the brink of getting what you want - except, he pulls away from you. You look at him, confused, and when you reach out to try and bring his face towards you, he grabs your wrists in one hand.
“You’re drunk, sweetheart. We can’t.” He explains and you want to cry. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?
“But I want you.” You try and he just smiles at you, wide and toothy, as he stands up. You catch his hand. “Can you…can you at least sleep next to me? We don’t have to do anything, I just..."
He turns to look at you and you see surprise painted across his features. You open your mouth to take it back, tell him you don’t know what you’re talking about, play it off as the drugs talking, but he’s already dropping his jacket on the ground and getting into bed with you before you get the chance to say anything.
He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you gladly take the invitation.
"You're cold." You tell him when you lay your head on his chest and feel him wrapping his arms around you. He smells like cigarettes and citrus. It’s your favorite smell in the world.
“You’re hot.” He responds, grinning as he kisses the top of your head, and you giggle.
It’s the last thing you remember before you fall asleep.
—
You wake up horny. Not unusual by any means, considering you fell asleep horny and next to Eddie. Still, you know you can't ignore it for long.
As your eyes adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the windows, you feel Eddie, still asleep, wrapping a long arm around your waist and pulling you towards his chest. His gentle hums do nothing except fuel the growing need in you to have him. You decide to do just that.
Careful not to wake him, you slowly move down his body and when you reach the part you're craving the most, you greedily undo his belt like you're opening a Christmas present. You pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, impatient, and immediately get to work.
You run your tongue from the tip to the base, savoring the shiver you receive in response. You do that a couple of times but as soon as you take him in your mouth, Eddie gasps and you know you've woken him up, because you feel a hand in your hair.
"Shit, baby, good mornin' to you too." He laughs and the rasp in his voice makes you throb.
You take him in deeper, tracing the vein in his shaft with your tongue and Eddie practically howls. Biting his lip, he buries his other hand in your hair too as the sounds of your gagging and his moaning overlap.
"I love this fucking mouth on my cock." He breathes out. "God, I can't get enough of you. Come 'ere."
You shake your head as you press open-mouthed kisses down the shaft.
"No, I want you to cum in my mouth." You declare stubbornly and he swears out loud at your words.
"I'll cum in that pretty little mouth as much as you want me to, but I need to be inside of you right now, baby, please." He almost begs and you look at him beneath your eyelashes.
He's panting heavily, his bottom lip slightly bloody because he bit it too hard, brown eyes glazed over and hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo. He looks like a mess and it's the prettiest thing you've ever seen.
Well, how can you say no to that?
You crawl towards him and he grabs the dress you've slept in from yesterday and pushes it up your body, hastily trying to remove it. You help him and soon, the dress is a mere clothing item on the floor. Left in only your underwear, he licks his lips as his eyes look you over. If it was anyone else, you would have felt like a piece of meat being ogled at, but his look only turns you on even more.
You tug on his shirt, wanting it off, and he complies immediately.
As you climb into his lap and undo your bra, Eddie watches, mesmerized, when you start grinding on his cock like a woman starved, your tits bouncing along with every movement. In an attempt to tease him, you reach out to play with your nipples, but he smacks your hands away, shoves his face in your chest and starts worshiping your tits with such vigor you think you can cum from this alone.
"Eddie! Oh!" You mewl and he groans in response, tugging your underwear down your thighs. He rubs a finger against your folds and your head gently knocks against his when his finger glides right inside of you.
"So fuckin' warm and tight and all for me. Only for me." Eddie whispers, kissing your neck. You nod, burying your fingers in his tangled hair.
"Only for you. Always for you." You whisper in his ear and he exhales sharply, relieved, like he's being told something he never once thought would be true.
You don't even notice when one finger has become two, and two has become three in your haze of pleasure until Eddie pushes you down onto the bed, looking at you like you've hung the moon and stars. You smile at him and pull his face down to kiss him, and you can feel him chuckling against your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you melt in his embrace. In response, Eddie grabs your hips, something you've noticed he really likes doing, and carefully enters you. You open your mouth in a silent scream, and he groans loudly, squeezing you so hard you're sure he'll give you yet another pair of bruises. You don't mind though, not at all.
"You okay, sweetheart?"
"Very much am, Roundtree."
---
"What did you just say?"
Warren laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.
"Look man, I don't fuckin' know, all I'm saying is that I saw them leaving together."
It's quiet in the breakfast hall as Billy ponders on what to do.
"I get that she's our little sister, but she's grown up now. Even if she is, y'know, sleeping with him, why should that matter? I mean, it's Eddie, do you really think he'd do anything to hurt her?" Graham argues, gesturing with the utensils in his hands as he speaks.
Daisy and Karen nod in agreement.
"He's got a point, you know. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. They've got the hots for each other for a while now, too, it's only natural." Karen adds and Billy's mouth turns into a tight line as he death glares the uneaten toast on his plate.
"Good morning everyone!" Eddie greets his band members when you and him enter, suspiciously cheerful. Billy's glare only becomes more hateful.
"Morning." He greets with gritted teeth, carefully observing the way Eddie gallantly pulls out your chair first, before sitting on his own. Everyone else around him also seems to notice, if Daisy and Karen's quiet giggles and Warren and Graham clearing their throats were any indication.
"Aren't you going to get breakfast?" Graham questions and you smile innocently back at him.
"Nope, I've already eaten." You respond and Eddie adds a "I'm very full, actually."
Awkward silence descends on the table for a moment before Roy arrives as well.
"Hey, Roundtree." He starts, an accusatory finger pointed at the bassist's neck. "What kind of vampire were you fooling around with? Jesus Christ, son, look at the size of that thing."
A beat passes as Graham chokes on his water.
"Roundtree, you fucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you."
---
BILLY DUNNE: The prick was fucking my sister behind my back. Of course I decked him.
KAREN SIRKO: And people call women the emotional ones.
WARREN ROJAS: Dude, I thought I was hallucinating, for real.
DAISY JONES: So overdramatic.
GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs]
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Worth it. [smiles]
#daisy jones & the six#daisy jones and the six#eddie roundtree x reader#eddie roundtree#eddie roundtree smut#eddie loving#billy dunne#graham dunne#warren rojas#karen sirko#daisy jones#djats fic#djats
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ꨄSpiked with Loveꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Love Spell Au
❦You cast a love spell on your boss and fellow executives❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
Spiked with Love
You frown as you sit in the vip section of the strip club, women all over four of the men you fancy. Of course, you know you have no right to be angry over the display towards either party. You just couldn’t help the drop of your stomach as you eye the woman sitting on Ran’s lap as he places the cigar between her lips, nor Rin pouring the bottle of alcohol into the woman's mouth, eyeing the way her tongue sticks out with lust. You also didn’t appreciate the display of Kazutora moving his lips against the stripper’s mouth with his fingers against her chin, nor the woman who’s allowing Sanzu to sniff cocaine off of her bare breasts. Fortunately, your boss never attends these kind of ordeals unless it’s for business so he treats everyone the same. You sat with your legs and arms crossed, pulling out your phone as you sigh, joint in one hand.
It’s a shame really, to be the only woman amongst many men and not one of them give you a second look. Nobody pays attention to you, nobody sees you in the way you want, nor even in an intimate way with no strings attached. No one has even flirted with you in a teasing manner as they do with other women. It was a good thing considering your position. It wouldn’t be smart to date such dangerous men who you could barely trust in the first place, but it’s not like you could help your feelings. You’ve always been into the not so ideal male. So as you sit, you scroll through the app, coming across a video that catches your eye. You get up from your spot and walk to the bathroom.
You watch the video after pressing play, eyeing the screen as it displayed a modern witch giving directions on how to complete a love ritual. Saving the video, you decide to make your way out of the club and have the driver take you to your own penthouse, guessing the men will be at the strip club for a while. When you make it home, you immediately make your way to your old altar that you hadn’t touched in years. Residue spices and herbs sat as well as the mini cauldron and old candle sticks. You set everything up the way she directed, making sure everything was set before lighting the candle. You closed your eyes, getting in the zone before repeating what was chanted. Once you finish, you place the written out names under your pillow and fall asleep.
The morning came and you hopped out of bed, showering and dressing in your usual Bonten attire. Once you walk out of the penthouse, you hop into the car, the driver taking you to Bonten’s headquarters. When you arrive, you walk through the doors and head straight to your boss’s office. When you walk in, you sit in your usual seat. Your boss gives the orders for the day, the meeting lasting about thirty minutes before he dismisses everyone.
“Y/n. You stay behind.”
You nod, though feeling confused as to what he needs you to stay after for. Once the room was empty besides you and Mikey, he eyed you for a while, seeming to study you. You shift in discomfort, not used to a gaze this long from him.
“You will work under Koko in his office. You are no longer needed for missions.” Your eyes widen.
“W-wait, Boss! Did I do something wrong?” You were completely distraught. Why is your position being lowered to a secretary?
“No.” Your eyebrow raises though you try to maintain a straight face.
“O-okay, Boss.” You didn’t want to trigger him by asking any questions considering he hates to be questioned.
He nods, dismissing you. You missed his gaze as you walked out of the room, confused and a little distraught.
Getting through the day as Kokonoi’s assistant, you huffed once you made it home in disappointment. Not only did you not see any changes with the men's behavior, you even got demoted.
Irritated and troubled, you pull up the dating app you downloaded for moments like these. A hookup will do you some good, allowing yourself to distract from everyday life. Once you found a guy to temporarily satiate your needs, you messaged him a straightforward offer. He complied and claimed to be on the way. As you changed out of your work clothes to something more casual, you heard a knock at your door.
With furrowed brows you opened it, raising them in surprise at the tiger tattooed man that showed up unannounced.
“Hey, Y/n.” He greets as he pushes past you, walking in. Your eyes widened, running in front of him and holding your hands up.
“Kazutora, what are you doing here?”
“Bored. Came to hang out.” He shrugged before plopping on your couch.
“Unannounced?” He smirked at you while propping his shoes on your coffee table, crossing his leg over.
“You know you like my company.” He chuckled, causing your face to warm up.
“It’s just not a good time, right now.” You said, scratching the back of your head as you anxiously eye the door, nervous of the embarrassment that will come if he figures out your plan for the night.
A knock interrupted your thoughts. You walk to the door, opening it and greeting the stranger before inviting him in. The tension in the air seemed to thicken not by your anxiety but by the aura seeming to emit from the energy of the room.
“Uh, yeah. This is…?” You eye the newcomer for his name.
“Sato Riku.” You nod with a sheepish smile.
You have no clue why you’re introducing him considering you have no reason to, but the way Kazutora is quiet with a stoic expression is making you feel awkward. Your eyes widened when he leaned forward and grabbed the remote. He turned the television on, scrolling through as if nothing had been said.
“Oh yeah, did that treatment for chlamydia work?” You gasped. Your ‘date’ looked at you in surprise. You’ve never been treated for chlamydia so you don’t know why he just said that.
“I’ve never…”
“You don’t have to tell me right now, you can just tell me later.” Kazutora shrugged. Sato eyed both of you before walking to the door.
“W-wait!” Before you could continue, he had already walked out of the door.
“What the fuck, Kazutora?” You exclaim angrily.
“Hey, I just saved you from putting a shrimp in your mouth. You should be thanking me.” He says before hopping up, smirking at you.
You couldn’t respond as he walked out of the front door. Sighing, you decide to change and go out for the night since your plan had been ruined. You refreshed your makeup and added a little bit of color to your eyeshadow. Once you were done, you left the penthouse. The driver takes you to a club not owned by the Haitani brothers since you wanted a different scene.
Red and purple lights flash as the sound of music causes the building to vibrate, the crowd buzzing with chatter and laughter as different people enjoy their time. You immediately head to the bar, ordering multiple shots and swallowing them down before walking to the dance floor. While you danced the night away a random male pulled you closer as he danced against you, hands on your hips behind you as his body pressed against yours. You turn your head slightly to see the man’s appearance.
Found my replacement for the night.
You turn your head back to the front as you grind your body back against the stranger, your arms raising as you close your eyes and sway your hips to the music. For a second you felt emptiness behind you causing you to turn around only for hands to replace themselves back on your hips. You internally shrug and continue to move your body against the man. A presence looms over you as you look up in surprise.
“Rin?” You eye the Haitani in front of you as you halt your movements.
“Having fun grinding on my brother?” Your eyes widen when you swiftly turn behind you, hands disappearing from your hips as you push him back with one hand.
“R-Ran?” You exclaim. He looks down at you with a smirk.
“Who knew you could move like that?” You feel warmth on your face as you look between the brothers.
“Where did that guy go?”
“What guy?” Ran questions while tilting his head. Your eyebrows furrow.
Am I imagining things? I literally looked at the guy behind me earlier, right? Have I been dancing on Ran the whole time?
Your eyes widen.
Holy shit! I’ve been dancing on Ran the whole time!
“U-uh, I…” You stammer over your words as realization hits that you’ve been grinding on one of the men you fancy, though it’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s still nerve wracking. Especially when he’s your coworker.
“No need to feel embarrassed, Y/n” Ran’s fingers connect to your chin before gently lifting your face. His heavy lidded orbs meet your gaze, a look you’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing before except from the sidelines.
I…Is he coming onto me?
“I need to go!” You say before you push past him and rush out of the building, shoving through the crowd before you make your abrupt exit.
What the hell? Am I overthinking or did that just happen? Did he just flirt with me? And he let me dance on him!
It took you a moment to hit the realization that this change of behavior has to be from that spell you casted. You shook your head as you hopped into the seat, your driver leading you home.
There’s no way. There’s no freaking way that worked!
You know that spells can work but you didn’t think it would work for you. It just couldn’t.
When you reached your home you rushed inside, zoned out in thought the entire time you changed and wiped your makeup off. When you got in bed, you binged different videos about love spells and how to know if they worked. It’s obvious really but you just couldn’t accept how easy it was.
Morning rises and with only two hours of sleep you sluggishly dressed yourself as well as completed your morning routine. Walking out of the lobby you yawned as you entered the back seat. When you arrived at Bonten’s headquarters you immediately met with Kokonoi to receive your assignment for the shift, not required to attend the meetings now that you are no longer an executive. The thought still disappoints you.
Sitting at a desk, after you get done organizing some paperwork, you feel as though you’re being watched. Your body tenses as you look over your shoulder. You release a sigh when you see that Sanzu is sitting on the couch behind you.
“When did you get in here?” You mask your nervousness as you shift your attention away from the crazed beauty.
Sanzu’s presence always made you nervous. Honestly all of them do but he tops the rest considering he was the first one out of the executives to catch your eye. Clearly your type is pretty and toxic. Yes, you have terrible taste in men. You’ve accepted that fact. What you found particularly interesting about Sanzu is that he had two different versions of himself. One is quiet, sneaky, and reserved while the other is crazy, extroverted, and wild. The second one is usually when he’s on drugs. If the love spell were to work, you’re definitely curious on how it would show up from him.
You took the last sip of your coffee before clearing your thoughts to focus on your screen. You begin to feel drowsy before you break out in cold sweat. You breathe heavily as your eyebrows furrow while you try to gain control of your weakened limbs. Before the upper half of your body can completely fall on the keyboard, you're pulled out of your seat and placed on the couch.
Blue orbs and pink hair fill your blurry vision as you look at the culprit above you who uses his hand to palm your face, thumb connecting to your chin as he pulls your head to the side. He analyzes your face as well as shifting his gaze down your body. The only thing you could hear is your breathing as he traced along your collarbone with his other hand, thumb caressing your chin before moving to your forehead. It’s as if he's studying an experiment.
“S-Sanzu?” You whisper.
What the hell is going on with him? What’s going on with my body? Why can’t I move on my own? Did he drug me?
“Shh.” He places a finger over his mouth before he leans over, the hand on your face moving your head to the side as his fingers trace down your neck. If your body wasn’t drugged you would’ve jumped at the hot breath against your neck. You would’ve tensed at the lips connecting to your skin so gently that it almost felt unreal. All of a sudden a gun is pulled out as Sanzu faces the door behind him, aiming it at the newcomer.
“Oh don’t mind me.” Kazutora says with a grin while his hands rise in surrender. He walked closer until he stood above you right next to the couch.
“Get out.” Sanzu growls before placing the gun back in his holster. The tiger tattooed man leans over to observe your state. He releases a chuckle before straightening his back.
“Wow, what did you give her?”
“None of your business.” He says with his voice low before returning his gaze back to you, tracing your skin once more without a care for the third party who intruded.
“Boss needs us for a mission.” He states in response before placing his hand on your forehead, thumb caressing the skin.
If you weren’t so out of it you’d be giddy with joy that they’re finally paying attention to you. Unfortunately, you can barely feel your own body let alone anything more than that. You also wonder what drug is exactly in your system. Sanzu stands from the couch and walks out of the room, Kazutora following behind as he gives you one last look before shutting the door.
Assholes. I need to get up before I get in trouble for lazing around.
You ended up falling into a deep sleep. Only to wake up to dark eyes staring down at you. You gasp before swiftly sitting up, eyeing your boss in fear.
“S-sorry about this, Boss! I’ll get back to work right now!” You exclaim. Before you can hop off of the couch, Mikey places a hand on your shoulder.
“Come with me.”
He walks away before you can respond. You had no choice but to follow behind, nervous of what punishment you would receive from slacking. You follow him outside as you both step into the ride, the driver taking you both to Mikey’s estate. When you walk into the lobby, you head up the elevator and reach a spacious living space.
Is this Mikey’s home? Why are we here? Well, why did he bring me here?
He disappears for a little while before returning with a spare pair of clothes, you eyeing his own change of outfit.
“Change and come to my bedroom.” Your eyes widen at his bold statement. He walks away as you are frozen in your spot.
It feels like one of your fantasies has come true though you don’t know how to act. You change your clothes and lie your own outfit folded on the couch. You walk to the hall and search for his bedroom. When you reached the room, you paused while eyeing him and turned the other way on his bed.
Does he want me to hop in? I don’t want to if he doesn’t want that. Oh come on, Y/n stop playing stupid why else would he ask you to come in here? To be fair he’s never requested something like this so I don’t know what he wants.
He turns to face you and pulls the comforter up as if inviting you into that spot. You tense once more before you comply with your Boss’s demands. You slowly climb into the bed as if to give him time to correct you. Once you get comfortable, you lie on your back and stare at the ceiling, ignoring the burning gaze from beside you.
You turn in the opposite direction, facing the door and lying in the fetal position as you try to calm your pounding heart. You hold back a gasp as you feel an arm slither around your waist. His warm body closes in behind you as you're pulled back against his chest.
Is… Is Mikey spooning me right now?
“Y/n.” He whispers. “Look at me.” You bite your lip before slowly turning on your back, Mikey keeping his hold on you as you keep your gaze on the ceiling.
A hand places itself on your chin before turning your attention to him. You gaze at the red hue covering his face as his orbs bore into yours. You watch as his eyes shift to your lips before he leans in. You stay frozen in your spot while his lips meet yours.
Fuck it.
You lean into the kiss, moving your lips against his as your eyelids flutter shut. The grip on your face tightens before he slowly climbs on top of you, resting his body in between your legs as your fingers massage his head, slightly pulling him closer as he props your legs up to crouch above you in missionary position.
He disconnects your lips before nuzzling his face between your shoulder, lips lapping onto your neck before giving the skin a long lick. He closes his mouth around the dermis and sucks a bruise onto the surface. You breathe heavily as his hands move down to your covered breasts, groping the mounds as he rutts himself against you. The bulge makes contact with your vulva through the fabric. He quietly moans as you grind against him eagerly, heat rising as all the sensations sensitize you to every contact your skin makes. Suddenly he pulls back and stares down at you while breathing heavily. You gaze at him while catching your breath.
“Get out.” He says before hopping off of you.
Your eyebrows furrow in concern and confusion.
Did I do something wrong? Did I make him uncomfortable?
You don’t hesitate to jump out of the bed and rush out of the room, tears forming from embarrassment and rejection.
Shit.
You quickly change back into your suit and head out of the building. Unfortunately, your driver is off duty so you grab the nearest taxi that’s out late at night. You ride home quietly, sulking in the backseat as you reach your penthouse. When you get inside you undress, hopping into the shower to scrub yourself harshly.
Why did he switch up like that? I hope I didn’t do anything wrong. This is so fucking humiliating.
You determined that even though the love spell worked, because they didn’t even have feelings for you in the first place, it’s all fake. None of it is real. None of the attention or affection are real. When you finished with your shower you got into bed and covered yourself with blankets, wishing you could disappear.
The next day you were rudely woken up by someone pulling your curtains open.
“Rise and shine.” Rin says as you groan in response. He snatches your blankets off causing you to shriek. You sit up and eye the brothers, Ran leaning against your doorway while Rin stands by your bed.
“What the hell are you two doing in my house?”
“You didn’t show up to work.” Rin crossed his arms. “Guess you were just being lazy.”
“What? It’s not ti-.” You cut yourself off when you eye your phone’s clock, displaying that your sleep surpassed the morning and afternoon.
Damn. I was knocked out for so long.
“You’re lucky Boss let it go.” Rin states.
“Get dressed.” Ran says. One of your eyebrows raises.
“For what?”
“We’re going out tonight.”
“Where?”
“Meeting the others at one of our clubs.” The others?
“So come on!” Rin says impatiently before they leave you in your bedroom.
By the time you finished getting ready, night fell as the sun disappeared. All three of you walk to the car, Ran holds the door open for you while you climb into your seat. Once you reached the club you all walked to the designated vip section, greeted by Kazutora while Sanzu sniffed a line of cocaine.
What you weren’t expecting was to see Mikey sitting on one of the accent chairs. Your face warmths from the memory of last night, recollecting your heated make out session before you felt shame rise from how it ended. You internally shake your head before walking to your own seat.
“Y/n.”
You look up at your boss who motions for you to come over. Fear stricken by what he might do to you for last night, you comply. Your eyebrows furrow when he points at his lap.
“Sit.” You freeze in disbelief.
“A-are you sure, Boss?” His expression stays stoic.
“You questioning me?” You immediately shake your head before sitting on his lap feeling uneasy by the stares you’re receiving. Everyone turns their attention back to what they’re doing.
“You’re such a distraction.” He whispers before one of his arms rest around your waist. His fingers grip your hip as your grip on your own hands tighten. His other hand grabs the bottom of your face and forces you to look at him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” A red hue covers his face as his dark eyes glisten in the light. He gives you a longing gaze before it turns cold. You flinch when his fingers dig into your thigh as well as the tightening grip on your face.
“I want to kill you.” Your breath hitched.
“You’re consuming me, Y/n. You’re distracting my men.” He whispers.
“B-boss?” You breathe out.
“If you disappear, there would be nothing to think about.” His hand moves to your neck, immediately squeezing your throat shut. Your eyes widen as you grip his wrist.
“M-Mik… Boss wait!” You stammer, eyes shifting to the others who watch the display with crossed legs and glasses, cigars, or a blunt to their lips. Nobody but members of Bonten sat in the room, the strippers and waiters out of sight.
“Should I, Y/n? Should I kill you right now so I can get you out of my head?” His grip becomes unbearable as you struggle to breathe. Your legs shift before you begin to scratch the skin on his arms. Tears fall before you pull an arm back and punch his face. You push yourself off the chair, dropping to the floor as you catch your breath. You look up at Mikey with wide eyes while his face is turned to the side. The room is quiet besides the faint music that plays while you cough and wipe your eyes.
You shakily stand from your position on the floor before glancing around the room at the executives who stare at you with nothingness as their expressions, cold and bare of any emotion.
What the fuck?
“You know, I had already fallen for you.” His face is covered by his platinum hair as he looks down, hands on the chair’s arms. “You didn’t need the spell, Y/n.”
Your eyes widen.
How did he know? The only way they would have noticed anything was the video saved on my phone or my altar. Was it when Kazutora or the Haitani brothers came into my place?
“I thought if I ignored it, then it would go away.” One of his hands rub his face. “Then you made it worse.”
The door opens and the guards walk in with decapitated heads that are hanging from their hair. You eye the faces closely in confusion before they’re thrown on the ground, some rolling in front of you. You count five different men, including the man you remembered as Sato and the mystery man you danced on. Although you’ve seen and have caused death, there was something very disturbing about seeing the detached heads of your past flings.
“Disgusting. You’ve driven the King insane.” Sanzu hissed before standing from his seat and taking position next to Mikey’s chair.
“Why is that look on your face?” Ran questions while taking a hit of the cigar. “Why do you look so uneasy?”
“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Rin says before he downs a shot and leans over, resting his arms against his legs.
Kazutora takes a hit of the blunt before he ashes it against the ashtray, pulling back as he leaned into the couch with a leg crossed over. “Come on, Y/n. Don’t give us that look. We’re just showing you what you made us do.”
You look at all of them with shock and uneasiness, disturbed by their actions though a little flattered that they thought of you this much. After all, your feelings hadn’t gone away even though you feel you are in danger. This isn’t exactly what you had in mind. Especially with how they stare at you like you’re a piece of meat in the lion’s den.
Your arms are grabbed by the guards as you’re forced out of the room, their eyes lingering on you all the while you allow the men to take you out of the tense section. Outside of the door, you meet eyes with Kokonoi who walks beside you as you’re released and forced to walk towards the exit.
“Koko, what’s going on?” You question with a trembling voice.
“I’m afraid you’ve been fired, Y/n. As of right now you’ve been labeled a traitor and you’ve been ordered to reside in one of the torture rooms for the time being.”
“Are they gonna kill me?” You gasp.
“No.”
“What do you mean? Then what’s gonna happen to me?” You question eagerly.
He sighs. “I mean that they’re planning to keep you locked up for an extended amount of time.”
“Th-They’re holding me captive? What? Why?”
One of the guards open the door for Kokonoi before cuffing your wrists and forcing you to climb into the car.
“The only thing I know is that they seem to have a deep infatuation with you. You might not ever get to see the light of day again, Y/n. I’m sorry.”
You could only stare into space with a look of concern as you try not to have a panic attack. Your eyes shift outside the window as the driver pulls off towards the destination.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev x you#bonten trio#bonten#bonten x reader#yandere bonten#sano mikey manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#manjiro x you#kazutora hanemiya#kazutora x reader#kazutora x you#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu x reader#sanzu x you#ran haitani#ran x reader#ran x you#rin haitani#rin x reader#rin x you#love spells#witchcraft#modern witch
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dating canon!rafe…
warnings: mentions of aggression, mental health issues, swearing, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, and sexual themes. please seek help if you or someone you know is struggling.
you two met a kegger, and his deep blue eyes drew you in immediately
he was drawn to your body and looks for the most part. he truly believed you would be a cute little accessory on his arm, someone he could manipulate and use
he was high off of cocaine when he approached you, seeming completely out of it
but he was so persistent on taking you out, you accepted the kook prince’s advance
on the first date he was very touchy
he would touch your hips, thighs, arms
you didn’t really mind though, because it’d been awhile since you got laid and rafe was one of, if not the most attractive man on the island
you’d heard plenty of rumors and stories about the Cameron family, but didn’t really pay attention
you two slept together on the first date.
and then it became a regular thing. he would hit you up in the early hours of the morning, and every time you would go.
and he was an amazing fuck, so you didn’t really mind, but when you realized that all he cared about was your looks you freaked out on him
“don’t call me! don’t fucking text me, dick head!”
“oh save it, bitch!”
it took a couple weeks… until Rafe showed up at your house unannounced
you had your shirt taken off, another man kissing down your chest when Rafe literally busted the door down
he literally almost killed the guy. multiple punches thrown, kicks, and broken bones.
“get the fuck out, you worthless piece of shit! look at her again and i’ll kill you!”
that was the first time you’d really seen anyone have pure rage, and it scared you
Rafe finally asked you to be his girlfriend, and knew that you were scared to decline
a few months in, you met Ward, Rose, Wheezie, and Sarah. but it was very brief, as Rafe secretly didn’t want his family to ruin you
while at first he saw you as someone to benefit from, he started caring more and more about you
he would constantly need to know where you were. your location, who you’re with, etc.
if he finds out you lied he gets pissed
but the sex after is like….. meow
when all the pressure around getting the cross gets too much, and all the drama w his dad, he would get colder with you
like stop responding to your messages and just basically become distant
he would smoke and drink a lot to try to contain his emotions
but one night you showed up to Tannyhill unannounced and saw Rafe crying
his dad had basically just told him to “man up” for expressing that he isn’t okay mentally
and you were fucking pissed
your first thought was to show Ward Cameron your two fists, but you realized how bad Rafe was
for the first time ever, Rafe broke down in your arms
“i try so hard… i’ll never be one of his precious daughters. and it- it fucks me up. i’m not okay, y/n.”
“i know, Rafe. i’m here, okay? i’m here to help you.”
you held him all night while he sobbed, and the emotional side you saw to him made you reevaluate yourself
while you knew how fucking toxic he was- you couldn’t help but grow to love him
there were some moments where he was sweet. he would buy you flowers, gifts, shower you with affection
but then he would grow distant
you had a strong suspicion he was a sociopath, but you knew he was struggling
so you stayed. and every time you stayed
he only had gotten physical with you once. you were shouting rude things about his dad and he grabbed you roughly, his eyes full of rage
that was the first time you truly were scared of him, and he knew it
“Rafe-“
he would glare at you momentarily, then realize what he was doing and let you go
the next day he would bring you breakfast
he began to fall in love with you when he saw you with your little cousin
seeing how nurturing you were with your cousin made him realize how truly lucky he was to be with you, even through all the shit he’s put you in
so basically… rafe is toxic af but he kinda cares so
yes, i would marry you rafe. thank you. bye.
#simpforboys#rafe obx#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe hc#rafe headcanons#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron hcs#rafe cameron angst#canon!rafe#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#obx rafe cameron#obx#outer banks#this is based around season 2
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