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amentomensmut · 5 months

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first time for everything

Drug dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 4.2k

read part 2 here!

Summary: You’re a good girl. You’ve never been arrested, you don't drink alcohol, and you certainly don't smoke weed. So why were you standing on Mike Schmidt’s doorstep about to buy the very thing you swore you wouldn’t?

Warnings: 18+ content, sorta implied age gap (reader is in college, mike is like the age he was in the movie so like 28-30ish?), cannabis use, shotgunning, dirty messy sex, praise, degradation, spit, grinding, fingering (f rec), handjob, unprotected sex

Authors note: guys i am SO HAPPY with how this fic turned out, and I really hope u guys like it too!! this fic ended up being my longest so far LOL, i got carried away but i LOVED writing the dialogue in this one

You’re a good girl.

You’ve never been arrested, you don't drink alcohol, and you certainly don't smoke weed.

So why were you standing on Mike Schmidt’s doorstep about to buy the very thing you swore you wouldn’t?

—-------------------

“Y/n, it’s seriously no big deal, okay? My dealer’s name is Mike, he’s cool! Just hand him the money and he’ll give you the weed. Simple.” Your friend Sara says as she throws on her work uniform. You furrow your eyebrows at her words, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sara, I’m not fucking buying weed for you.” You say incredulously, leaning against a wall in your dorm room. Once Sara’s shirt is pulled over her head, she gives you an insulted look.

“It’s not just for me, it's for us! You need to live a little more, Y/n. You haven’t even been to a party on campus yet and it's our third year.” Sara says, emphasising her words with her hands. She brushes her hair, throwing it up into a quick ponytail to make a flat foundation for her ‘Burger King’ cap to lay on top of.

“Well, that’s because I’m studying. I have a job too!” You say with a roll of your eyes. Of course it’s easy for Sara to judge, she’s always been very extroverted. Sara’s the type of girl who’s well loved by everyone on campus, and goes to a party almost every weekend. You can’t blame her. If you were as outgoing and charismatic as she is, you’d follow in her footsteps. However, you’re not, and making friends and being invited to parties hasn’t been an easy feat for you.

You and Sara have been roommates since your first year, and although you haven’t always seen eye to eye, you love her. She’s truly one of your only friends on campus, and even though you know it's pathetic, you think you’d be completely friendless if it weren’t for her. She’s the reason you’ve met most of your friends over your time at college, and although you get annoyed at her, you’re thankful for the times she's pushed you out of your shell enough to have some sort of social life. That being said, buying weed for her is where you draw the line. At least, you think it is.

“I study and work too, but I'm not a total hermit.” Sara exclaims. You scoff and cross the room to sit on your bed. You give Sara a defeated look and she lets out a soft laugh, joining you on the bed.

“Okay, I'll take that back. I don’t think you’re a hermit.” Sara says with a soft smile. She places a caring hand on your back.

“I just think you need to get out a little more, you know? Make some memories, fuck a hot guy, get shit-faced, whatever!” She continues with a laugh. You laugh along with her, and you know she's right. You are a hermit, and it wouldn’t kill you to break out of your shell a little. Even if that means buying weed for your very persistent friend.

“So, why do you need me to buy you weed?” You inquire.

“Because, I’m going to work. Duh.” Sara says, motioning to her ‘Burger King’ uniform. “And I promised my dealer I’d pick my stuff up today. Apparently afternoons are better for him now because he got some weird job working nights.” She continues and you bite the inside of your cheek. Sara notices your apprehension and she grabs your hand.

“Listen, don’t think of it as buying weed. Just…think of it as doing a favour for your friend.” She says softly, ducking her head to meet your gaze that is currently fixed on the floor. It’s just weed, you think. Not cocaine, or something like that.

“And your um, dealer? He’s nice?” You ask, wiping your palms on your jean clad thighs.

“Yeah, I told you. He’s cool. Dealing is, like, a side thing for him. To make enough money to support his little sister.” Sara says, getting off of the bed to collect her things. She swings her backpack over her shoulder and starts towards the exit of your dorm.

You’re not totally convinced, and you’re also not sure how buying weed for Sara will make you less of a “hermit,” but with a long, dramatic, sigh you nod your head.

“What’s his address?”

—-----------------------------------

The gust of the cold December wind that hits your face when you exit the city bus makes you recoil into your hood, and with an annoyed huff you set the hair that stuck to your lipgloss from the breeze back into place.

Mike Schmidt’s place wasn’t far, only a 10 minute bus ride away. However, that was plenty enough time for you to almost completely think yourself out of going. You walk to the address that Sara texted you, the sound of snow crunching under your feet somewhat interrupting your racing thoughts. “Just hand him the money, and he’ll give you the weed.” Sara’s voice replays in your head, and the butterflies in your stomach aren’t sure if her voice is comforting or not.

Mike Schmidt’s house wasn’t one to gawk at, at least from the outside. You start the trek from the end of the driveway to his front door and you wonder how many times Sara has done this before.

You reach the front door and your cold, dry knuckles rap on it. The cold air makes knocking on the wood hurt more than usual, and you rub your knuckles softly. You hear heavy footsteps making their way from the back of the house to the door, and you let out a big breath. The door opens and you scan the man in front of you. He’s…not what you had expected him to look like. In your naive mind, you had pictured a big, burly man, covered head to toe in tattoos. But, this man looked like he had just woken up, his eyes still adjusting to the light outside. His curly brown hair was slightly dishevelled and he laced a hand through it, attempting to make it look more presentable.

“Can I help you?” His voice comes out slightly gruff, and he clears it softly.

“Are you the…the drug guy?” You ask in a low whisper, like the title ‘drug guy’ is akin to the name ‘Voldemort’ in ‘Harry Potter.’

“Depends on who you’re asking.” Mike says, leaning against his front door. He gives you a once over with a little smirk and you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m asking you.” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, your teeth chattering from the cold.

“Do you want me to be?” Mike says, and you narrow your eyes at him. His smirk widens and you bite the inside of your cheek, he’s enjoying this. Sara said this would be easy.

“I’m here for Sara.” You say, and Mike nods his head, a soft hum tumbling out of his closed lips.

“Oh, so you’re her druggie friend?” Mike says with a little mischievous smile, although his teasing is lost on you and your jaw drops open in shock.

“What? I, wha-, no!” You stammer and Mike lets out a laugh that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“I’m joking. Come in, you’re freezing.” He says, noting the way you’re shivering on his front door step. He pushes himself off the door frame and motions for you to follow him inside. You hesitantly follow him inside, but your frosty fingers thank you for the new found warmth of his house.

“Do you want something to drink?” Mike asks, leading you towards the kitchen, you following behind him. You shake your head no, even though he can’t see you.

“I won’t be staying long.” You say bluntly, and even though you can’t see Mike’s face, you swear you can picture the little smile that forms on it with your words. You sit down at the dining table, watching as Mike reaches into the fridge, grabbing a can of soda. The dining table is covered with unopened envelopes and you try your best not to snoop while Mike is in the kitchen. You look up as Mike exits the kitchen with an extra soda in hand, placing it in front of you.

“Just in case you change your mind.” He says and a small “thank you” leaves your lips.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Mike continues, and you slowly nod your head, watching as he makes his way down the hallway and towards the back of the house. You half pay attention to the turned on television in the living room from your spot at the dining table, partly watching some sitcom that’s been left on while you wait for Mike to return. The house smells like weed and spicy cologne and your leg bounces up and down rapidly as you listen to the sounds of Mike’s footsteps coming back.

“Here.” He says simply, tossing the baggy of weed onto the dining table in front of you. You look down at it, and you crinkle your eyebrows in confusion.

“This is it?” You ask, your eyebrows raised as you hold the baggy between your pointer and middle finger. Mike looks at you with his arms crossed over his chest and that stupid smirk that seems to be permanently painted on his face.

“This is an eighth.” He answers, like you’re supposed to know what that means.

“It doesn’t look like much.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket to fish out the $40 that Sara gave you.

“Well, you can always come back if you’d like more.” Mike says in a sickly sweet tone, and now you know he’s teasing you. You roll your eyes and you get up from your chair, holding the dollar bills in your hand.

“Is $40 enough?” You question, and Mike nods his head. He holds his hand out and you place the money in his palm. You turn to leave and you hear Mike’s voice behind you.

“Enjoy.” He says, and you can’t help yourself from turning back around.

“And just for the record, I’ve never smoked weed. So-, so don’t think this is for me. Cause’ it isn’t.” You say, and you wonder why you feel the need to explain yourself to this man that you met only fifteen minutes ago. Your eyes squint at the man as he lets out a laugh at your words.

“Trust me, I know.” He says, and you watch as he takes a sip of his soda, never breaking eye contact with you.

“How? I’m literally buying weed from you.” You say, your tone somewhat annoyed. Does everyone think you’re a buzzkill? A hermit? Is it written permanently on your forehead in big, bold, marker that you’re a ‘drag’ for everyone to see?

“I can just tell. You don’t seem like the type.” Mike says with a sort of shrug. You stand there with what can only be described as a defeated look on your face as Mike makes his way over to the living room. He sits on the couch, changing the channel to some sports game. It’s silent for a moment, save for the sound coming from the tv, and you stand in the front corridor motionless as you have a mental battle over what you decide to say next.

“...Can you show me?”

You watch as Mike turns his head, looking back at you from the couch.

“You want to get high?” He asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised. You walk over to the couch, moving to stand in front of Mike. He looks up at you with a quizzical look on his face, his eyes dancing around from your lips, to your eyes and nose. You nod your head and you watch as he swallows slowly, drumming his fingers on his knee.

“I want to try.” You say, and you’re not sure where this new found confidence has come from, but you’re not going to back down now. Maybe when you get back to your dorm and smoke with Sara, you can surprise her by showing her it isn’t your first time getting high.

“Alright.” Mike says, putting both of his hands on his knees and pushing himself off of the couch. You watch him walk over to a console table in the living room, pulling out a little baggy of pre-rolled joints. He grabs a joint and a lighter and walks back over to the couch, patting the spot beside him, motioning for you to sit.

“Have you ever smoked at all before? Like, a cigarette or something?” Mike asks softly and you shake your head. You were never really interested in smoking or getting high, even when your friends had started to do those things. You’re not really sure where that interest is coming from now, although you feel a strange need to change Mike’s impression of you. To be the opposite of what he expects. To impress him.

“Okay so, the first few hits might burn a little. And you’re probably going to cough so it’s a good thing I got you that soda.” He says, walking over to the dining table to grab the soda that you left unopened, and handing it to you as he sits back down on the couch. You watch as Mike fiddles with the joint between his fingers and you look up at him.

“Is there any way to make it burn less?” You ask genuinely, and Mike smiles at you, relaxing back on the couch and slightly spreading his legs.

“I mean, there is. But I’m not sure if you’d want to try it.” Mike says, resting his head against the back of the couch and looking over at you. You look over at the joint resting between Mike fingers and back to Mike.

“Let’s do it.” You say with almost no hesitation.

“Alright.” Mike says nonchalantly. “It’s called shotgunning. I’m going to take a hit, and then blow the smoke into your mouth. So you have to be ready for me, okay?” He continues, putting the joint between his lips and lighting it. You watch as he inhales the smoke and then blows it back out, the smoke exiting his body through his mouth and nose. He licks his lips and looks back over to you for confirmation. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You say with a nervous laugh that you try to play off. Mike takes another hit, and you watch as his chest rises with the smoke entering his mouth and lungs. All of a sudden, he’s grabbing your jaw with his hand and bringing you towards him. He opens your mouth with his thumb tugging at your lower lip and chin, and he’s blowing the smoke into your mouth. He’s so close, and this feels so intimate in a way that you try not to think about.

“Told you to be ready for me.” He mumbles as he pulls away from you, his thumb and forefinger still resting on your chin. You inhale the smoke, coughing a little but not nearly as bad as if you have taken a direct hit from the joint. The weed doesn’t taste great, and you crack open your soda to wash the taste and your semi dry throat down.

“Well, you could’ve given me, like, a countdown or something.” You mutter and Mike gives a genuine laugh at that. He shakes his head at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed already starting to hit but you but you stare a little too long at the way his lips turn into that charming smile.

“I can’t give you a countdown if I have smoke in my mouth, smartass.” You roll your eyes at his words but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. You shuffle a little closer to Mike, your knee hitting his.

“Well, whatever. Can we go again?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods with a hum, putting the joint to his lips and inhaling. You’re ready this time, lips parted as you watch the way his eyes flutter as the smoke fills his mouth. He turns to you, once again grabbing your jaw, and blowing the smoke into your mouth. His lips brush your own and before you can stop it, you let out a soft moan. Mike pulls away from you slightly, looking at you with a lazy smirk. He moves his hand from your jaw to your cheek, rubbing slow circles into the skin with his thumb.

“Someone’s enjoying this, aren’t they?” Mike says, his tone sweet but you know that he’s mocking you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t find it in yourself to look at him, your eyes fixating on your lap.

“Look at me.” He says, and you do.

“Do you want to try one more time?” He asks, and you nod. Like the last two times, he takes a hit, bringing his mouth close to yours once the smoke invades his mouth. However, as he’s blowing the smoke into your mouth, he only seems to get closer with every passing second. His lips brush against yours hesitantly but you respond by leaning closer into him. The gap is closed and his lips are soft, and the room is spinning. You know the weed is probably a contributing factor but, god, this feels so good.

Mike cups your face in his hands, cradling you like a piece of fine china. He bites your bottom lip, causing you to part your lips so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is needy and wet, but you don’t care. The only thing you can think about is how good his tongue feels caressing your own, and how the hand that was once on your jaw, is slowly trailing up your thigh.

Mike pulls you onto his lap, pressing you down onto him and you let out a gentle whine. He breaks the kiss to look at you and your eyes divert to the place where both your laps are connected.

“Don’t get shy on me, baby. C’mon look at me.” Mike says. You look up at him, starry eyed, and his gentle eyes are already on you. His hair is messy, his lips are swollen, and he definitely looks high.

“There you go.” He says, praising you. “This okay?”

“Yes. I want more.” You whimper, your hips softly grinding down on Mike. The weed is heightening all your senses, and your pussy is throbbing. You can’t think of anything else right now except reliving the ache between your thighs, and Mike looks more than happy to do that for you. He bucks his hips up as you grind on him, and you can feel his erection through his sweatpants. His hands have a strong hold on your hips, pulling you down onto him.

“Mike, fuck.” You choke out. You two are grinding on each other like a pair of horny teenagers, but neither of you care. You two kiss each other messily, and when you pull away, a string of spit connects your lips.

“Take off your jeans.” He simply says, and you couldn’t be happier to oblige. You wriggle off his lap, standing in front of Mike to take your jeans off. You can feel his heavy-lidded gaze on you with every one of your movements, and as soon as your jeans are off, he’s pulling you back onto his lap.

His calloused hands are everywhere. On your hips, your ass, your inner thighs. He presses sweet kisses on your neck, sucking and licking on the places you’re the most responsive to. Your hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging at it, making him groan.

“Can I touch you?” Mike asks, and you let out a quick “please.”

One of his hands trails up your inner thigh, reaching the wet spot on your panties.

“Christ, you’re soaked.” He says, and you let out a shaky breath as he starts to rub you over your panties. You buck your hips into his fingers, silently begging for more. He pulls your underwear to the side, running his middle and ring finger up your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit immediately, rubbing lazy circles. You reach down to palm Mike's bulge through his sweatpants and in response, he sinks two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re taking it so well.” He moans, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You clench around him, and the television in the background is now being drowned out by the sound of your pussy squelching around Mike’s thick fingers. The palm of his hand hits your swollen clit perfectly every time he moves his fingers in you, and you rest your head on Mike’s shoulder.

“You know, you act all innocent, but you’re not really a good girl, are you?” Mike grunts in your ear. He adds a third finger and your legs clench around his hand from the stimulation. Your hand has now ventured inside his sweats and boxers, and you pull his dick out from the confines of his clothes. His cock is so hard, with pre cum steadily leaking from the tip. You spit in your hand and then bring it back to his dick, stroking him from the base to the tip. You massage his tip with your thumb and Mike lets out a whine.

“Y-you know what I think? I think you’re a- fuck, I think you’re a slut whose finally getting the attention she needs.” Mike grits out, and with his fingers curling in and out of you reaching a spot your own fingers have never been able to reach, you think you’d agree to anything he says.

“Mike, I think I’m gonna-” You start to say, your legs shaking from your oncoming orgasm. But as soon as the words leave your lips, Mike removes his fingers from you.

“I wanna feel you cum around me, okay? Can you do that?” Mike says softly, and you eagerly agree. With your panties pulled to the side, Mike teases you with his dick, rubbing it up and down your pussy. He catches it on your clit every so often, making you jolt. Mike’s cock is glistening with a mix of your wetness and his own, and you decided to take matters into your own hands, grabbing Mike’s dick and guiding it into your pussy. You both moan out simultaneously, and the feeling of being full again makes you throw your head back in ecstasy.

Mike lifts you up, so the tip of his cock is barely in you, before slamming you back down onto him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and you watch as the muscles in Mike’s arms flex everytime he lifts you up and slams you back down. His cock is reaching so deep, and being high only makes it feel that much better.

“Fuck, your pussy is fucking perfect.” Mike whines, and he drops his head, letting some of his spit dribble down to where the two of you are connected. Mike brings his hand down to your puffy clit, rubbing fast circles. You let out a sob, lacing your hands through Mike’s hair and pulling him towards you to kiss him. Your moans are muffled into the kiss, and Mike slaps your ass, making you cry out.

“C’mon, baby. You wanna be a good girl? Then cum for me.” Mike says, rubbing your clit faster and fucking up into you harder. Your cunt spasms around Mike as you cum, your legs shaking and for a second you swear you can’t feel anything except for the sheer euphoria making it’s way through your body. You drop your head on Mike’s chest as he cums inside you, and his grip on your hips is so tight it would hurt if you weren’t so fucked out right now.

Mike’s soft voice is what coaxes you out of your bliss, and with his fingers running through your hair you think you could fall asleep right here on his lap with him inside of you.

“Hey, you’re okay. You were so good, baby, but I need to get you cleaned up.” Mike says sweetly in your ear, and you slowly nod your head. You let Mike take you off of his lap and place you onto the couch, his release running down your legs. You watch as Mike tucks himself back into his pants and walks down the hallway towards the bathroom. You suddenly hear your cell phone ringing, and you reach down from the couch to fish it out of the pocket of your jeans on the floor.

“Hello?” You say in your dazed state.

“Y/n? Did you get the weed? You were supposed to be back like an hour ago?” You hear Sara say on the other line, her tone laced with worry.

“Um, yeah. I got the weed.” You say, deciding that for now, you should probably keep it a secret from your best friend that you fucked her dealer.

taglist: @slutf0rmilfs, @angie-likes-to-art

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #fnafmovie #smut #fnaf

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miupow · 2 months

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⭑𓂃 GETTING STONED W/ TXT .ᐟ ୭ ˚. [ HEADCANONS]

☆〜（ゝ。∂）txt x gn!reader ⋆ cw// drugs/marijuana mentions! sfw, tooth rotting fluff <𝟑 kissing, cuddling, implied established relationships

⤷ what i imagine it's like smoking with the boys . . .

연준 YEONJUN

i imagine him high is a lot like him drunk lol

soft, sleepy, cuddly and just the biggest baby whining that he wants kisses now

likes using your lap as a pillow for his head, the type to nuzzle his face in your belly and wrap his arms tight around you-- won't you play with his hair? tell him what an amazingwonderfulhandsome boyfriend he is?

tries very hard not to fall asleep on you but fails every time

pls take care of him :(

finds the other boys annoying when they're high lol but still does it with them because they're his baby brothers and he loves them no matter how much they piss him off <33

cannot smoke without you because he'd spend the entire sesh going "where's my baby?? i wanna see my baby, i miss them so much :(("

수빈 SOOBIN ⭑𓂃

the kind to just stare blankly at the wall for hours

"bin, you okay?" "uh huh..."

probably gets sensory overload easily, don’t have too much going on at once or he’ll get a headache :<

soogyu is my dream blunt rotation im gonna be honest they're so fucking funny they just be sayin shit

high bin says the some of funniest things you've ever heard in your life but he has no idea he's even being funny

"why are you laughing at me??? :(("

gasps when you tell him you love him even though you tell him every day

“REALLY??? I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”

will get into the dumbest arguments, especially with gyu?? “what do you think would happen if you put a werewolf on the moon…” “what the hell is wrong with you??”

“no, dumbass, that’s not even how ufos work. look it up.”

범규 BEOMGYU ⭑𓂃

true delulu headcanon time here but hear me out okay

he's so crazy adhd brain high energy when he's sober but i feel like when he's stoned he's so. chill?

put a movie on or something and he'll be quiet for hours he's just so transfixed by the moving colors and lights

just wants to cuddle with you in silence or like. talk about deep shit

you honestly kind of love it because you'll have conversations about your future and your relationship that gyu wouldn't take seriously sober

he's very upfront and straightforward with his feelings when he's stoned, which is so unlike him

says some corny shit with stars in his eyes like "i wanna spend forever with you" and then regrets it later because he sounded like a dweeb

he's so whipped for you and he can't hide it :<

let him lay on your chest, playing with his long pretty hair, calling him beomie while he looks up at you with hazy, unfocused but so in love eyes

again soogyu = dream blunt rotation gyu is so funny

“do crabs think fish are flying??” type mf i love him very much

태현 TAEHYUN ⭑𓂃

this might be an unpopular opinion but tyun is absolutely the biggest stoner out of the five of them

i feel like he would smoke to relax, not necessarily to get high-- he's on stress overdrive 24/7, especially during comeback season,, he smokes to finally make his brain go quiet for at least a night

big social smoker but also enjoys smoking alone or just with you

i see him the most like his sober self, quiet and content and not really paying much attention to anything

normally you have to fight him to get his picture taken but when he's stoned he'll just let you shove a camera in his face and you love it sm,, "tyunnie!! baby! smile!"

very content with letting you sit on his lap while he zones out, nuzzling his neck-- he loves feeling needed, loves taking care of you

thinks everyone else is very entertaining, just enjoys watching his brothers act like idiots

he's such a bottled up guy, doesn't like to show or talk about how he's feeling ;; but he'll open up easily once you get him loosened up

휴닝카이 HUENING KAI ⭑𓂃

i want to smoke with this boy so bad. it's not even funny.

he's so cuddly and sweet and giggly,,, i lob him,,

he gets too out of it to kiss you so he makes your plushies kiss eachother instead hehe

kiss his freckles :< just give him so many smooches all over his face while he laughs that it tickles

spooning is a need not a want. he'd rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you soso close while you lay on his bed watching a movie ;;

like soobin he probably gets overstimulated easily,, he needs the lights off and he likes when you wear soft/fuzzy clothes,, ur his plushie now :<

will not let you get up for anything at all. will literally follow you to the bathroom and wait outside of the door like a puppy

SOOO much skinship he needs to touch and be touched so badly

goes totally nonverbal when he's stoned. will not say a word for hours

TUMMY RUBS also lays his head on your belly ;;

thinks literally everything is funny. show him a picture of like. a horse and he'd laugh at it

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onlyfezco · 1 year

Text

Happy New Year, Ma - Fezco

Summary: After Fez smashes Nate’s face in, you come over to help take care of his hand.

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 1,330

Author’s Note: This started because I kept rewatching that scene of Fez beating Nate’s ass and I was turned on from it. Anybody else? No? Just me? Okay lol. Also, this should have been posted like January 2nd lol. My bad.

“What?”

“Let me in Ash.”

“What you doin’ here,” Ash question through the screen door.

“I’m here to help,” you replied as you held up your mom’s first aid kit as proof.

Ashtray huffed then opened the screen door.

“Where is he?”

Ash nodded his head in the direction for you to follow. “Kitchen.”

You made your way down the hallway already knowing your way around the O’Neil home. Once in the kitchen entryway, you saw Fez, closing the lid on a Tylenol bottle, his hand haphazardly wrapped in gauze.

You sighed shaking your head at the sight. “Really, Fezco?”

Fez turned around to see your disappointed expression. His eyes trailed down your body to see you still in your New Year’s Eve dress, a long cream coat, heels still on, with a black bag in tow.

“What you doing here? Go back to the party,” Fez said shaking his head, then walked pass you.

“I’m here to clean up your hand.”

“Don’t need any help. Took care of it.”

“Like you took care of Nate,” you asked, annoyance in your voice.

“You come over here just to tell me I messed up,” Fez asked, plopping down on the couch.

“No... seriously Fez. Let me help.”

Fez eyed you considering your offer. All he had to clean up his hand was water, soap, and gauze. “Fine.”

Relief filled your eyes, your lips turning up into a small smile. “Bathroom please.” You quickly took your coat off, dropping it on the couch before you turned, going down the hall knowing Fez would follow. You sat your mom’s first aid kit on the counter, taking out the supplies you would need.

“Where you get all this from?”

“My mom’s cabinet. My house was only a few doors down from the party. I knew you wouldn’t have anything to take care of that,” you said, nodding your head towards his messed up hand.

Fez put the toilet seat down then sat. You reached for his hand and began unwrapping his attempt to cover up his cuts.

His hand was bruised and still bleeding. Your face winced at the sight. “Oh Fez.”

Fez just sat there quietly not making eye contact with you. Nate deserved what he got, but he didn’t want to see the disappointment in your eyes.

You noticed a tiny shard of glass still in his skin. “Did you even try to clean this up?”

“Not exactly a doctor over here.”

You rinsed his hand off in the sink then dried it off. Cleaned up the skin between the cuts with some alcohol. You put a little Neosporin on the cuts to help them heal. For just a moment, you held his hand looking at the cuts and bruises. Your thumb moving back and forth over his enact skin.

Pulling out a bandage to began wrapping up his hand, you broke the silence. “Why’d you do it, Fez? I know Nate Jacobs is an ass and I don’t doubt he deserve it, but... why at a party in front of everyone?”

Fez was quiet for a moment. Just watching you wrap the bandage around hand and through his fingers. “Remember the raid I told you about?” You just nodded. “He tipped them off.”

Your face scrunched up, anger clouding your eyes. You didn’t question how Fez knew it was Nate. You believed him. If Fez and Ash wouldn’t have had time to flush all the drugs they had, Fez would be in jail, Ash would probably be in foster care, and their grandma sent to a home. The thought made your blood boil. You tried to put all your focus into carefully wrapping Fez’s hand. Not too tight so he could still feel his fingers, but tight enough to stop any bleeding or the bandage from falling off.

“But why at the party?”

“Rather me have pulled up to his house?”

You finished wrapping his hand then began putting up your things. “No, but... witnesses Fez. And that family has pull in this town. What’s to stop him from pressing charges?”

“He ain’t gonna do nothin’,” Fez replied confidently.

“You don’t know that,” you said annoyed how easily he downplayed the situation.

“Trust me, ma,” Fez said standing up, now looking down at you. “Nothin’s gonna happen. And if it does, that’s for me to worry ‘bout.”

You stared up into Fezco’s crystal blue eyes. You sucked your teeth then looked away. “Fine. Whatever.” Then you turned and zipped up your bag, completely over this night.

“I’m sorry.”

Anger turned to confusion, turning your head to face him. Your expression asking the question your lips didn’t have to say.

“For ruinin’ the start to your New Year. You should be at that party with your friends. Not here with me.”

You reached out for his good hand. “You are my friend, Fez. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

“Nah, you were suppose to be takin’ a shot or kissin’ some guy. Not watching me punch Nate in the face.”

You chuckled. “Well, I don’t drink. I see how my friends get and somebody has to be the sober one. As for the kissing part... I’m kinda lackin’ in that department.”

Fezco was staring you down making you nervous. You began to drop his hand and look away, but he quickly picked it back up, lacing your fingers between his. You glanced down at your interlaced fingers, your cheeks growing hot.

“That’s hard to believe,” Fez said.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you replied, “well, believe it.”

Both of you were silent just staring at one another. You could practically hear your heart beating in your chest. Fez was moving in closer to you and before your brain had time to process what was happening, his lips were hovering over yours.

Fez’s voice came out softer than you’ve ever heard it before, “Can I?”

You didn’t trust your mouth to speak properly so you settled on nodding your head. Fez took the leap and closed to small gap in between you two. His hand that was holding yours let go and came up to your neck, his thumb gently touching your cheek.

He was being so sweet and tender with you, but you wanted more. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in closer to you, so now you were chest to chest.

Fez was trying his best not to move his bandaged hand, but he couldn’t help himself. His other hand wrapped around your back, a moan leaving your lips.

The two of you got lost in each other. You began to feel off balance a little, the two of you trying to get as close to each other as possible, you taking a step back. Then you felt your back hit the sink counter. Fezco yelped in pain, taking a step away from you, his hands leaving your body.

Your hands shot up to your mouth, covering your lips. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you repeated over and over feeling guilty for his hand getting smashed between your backside and the hard counter top.

“Nah,” Fez replied holding his hand tight to his chest. “Ain’t your fault.” His hand stung, the skin not under the bandage turning red.

You grimaced at his hand making Fez feel bad that you were feeling bad because of him.

“Hey,” he said catching your attention dropping his hand so you wouldn’t stare at it feeling guilty. Once you made eye contact with him, Fezco continued. “Happy New Year, ma.”

You smiled up at the ginger, your heart filling with joy. “Happy New Year, Fezco.” You watched the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile, his cheeks turning a light shade of red before you spoke again. “Let’s go put some ice on that hand of yours,” you said sweetly feeling bad for the extra pain he was in now. You grabbed his good hand then led him out the bathroom.

#fezco x reader #fez x reader #fezco one shot #fez fanfic #fezco #euphoria one shot #euphoria fan fiction #euphoria

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cal-flakes · 9 months

Note

hi!! i love your account 💖💖💖 i was thinking about a scenario where dealer!rafe tries to impress your parents/meeting them for the first time and he's trying to be tough but he's lowkey so nervous LOL!!

╰┈➤ dealer!rafe meets y/n’s parents

warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of drug dealing, light swearing.

summary: rafe’s a little nervous meeting y/n’s parents for the first time.

“baby, you look amazing, stop stressing..” she cooed as she cupped his cheeks with her warm hands. “i know- i know, i just want to make a good impression, y’know?” he sighed, exhaling deeply as he adjusted his collar in the mirror.

“of course rafe, but they’ll love you, you don’t need to worry” she stated assuringly as she stroked the back of his buzzed head, trailing her hand down his clothed back. her forehead creased and her brows furrowed slightly as she felt a unfamiliar bulge in the back of his waistband.

lifting the back of his suit jacket, she gasped disapprovingly as she pulled out the tucked object. “seriously, you were going to bring your gun?” she huffed, exasperated as she placed it carefully in the draw of the hallway dressing table. shrugging, he turned to face her with an amused grin. “just incase..” he hummed, rounding her frame to grab the car keys.

“just incase what? incase my dad comes at you with a steak knife?” she yelled, half serious. “you never know sweetheart” he stated, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek before guiding her out the front door and to the car.

the car drive to y/n’s parents’ house was comfortably quiet as rafe rubbed circles into the exposed skin of her thigh, humming along to the tune of the radio.

“okay, we’re here. any questions?” she asked, turning to face him. his face twisted in thought as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “what did you tell them i do for work?” he queried, the thought crossing his mind last second. “you took over your fathers development company” she claimed, exiting the car as she spoke. nodding along, he followed suit. “not a complete lie i guess..” he muttered to himself.

following her to the front door, he snaked a gentle arm around her waist confidently, masking his quivering insides. “you’ll be fine baby, m’kay?” she whispered as she rapped on the door with her knuckles. humming in response, his eyes flitted between her and the figures closing in on them behind the glass of the door.

“oh my little love! we missed you sweetie!” y/n’s mother cooed as her father stood tall behind the smaller woman, smiling at the pair. “i missed you too momma!” y/n grinned, wrapping her arms around her mom as she smiled at her father.

y/n’s mother stepped closer to rafe as her daughter passed by to hug her dad. “you must be the infamous rafe! we’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” the woman beamed, quickly engulfing rafe in a gentle hug, to which he returned. “it’s great to meet you too miss y/l/n, it’s been a long time coming..” he smiled charmingly.

y/n watched the interaction in delight as she cuddled into her fathers side. “so you’re the one who’s stolen my little girl away from me?” the man spoke gruffly, a playful tone sneaking through his contrasting words. “my apologies sir, i just can’t bare to part with her” rafe joked, playing into his words.

the two men shook hands while y/n’s mother guided her through to the sitting room, offering her a drink. y/n’s features couldn’t contain the ear to ear grin breaking through, so much more in love with the man.

she was quickly followed by rafe as her parents disappeared to the kitchen, fetching drinks and continuing the preparation of the nights meal. “okay, so your dad doesn’t hate me..” he breathed in relief as he stepped closer. “i told you! he just wants to see me happy, and you seem to do a good enough job” she teased, planting a gentle kiss to his lips.

“are you saying i could do better?” he gasped, feigning offence as he pulled away from her. “just teasing baby, you make me the happiest girl alive, and they know it too..”

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imfinereallyy · 10 months

Text

“I think the drugs might be kicking in.” Steve looks at Robin across the really soft carpet they are currently sprawled on. Like it’s really soft. Surprisingly soft.

Like Eddie’s hair.

Robin turns her head, “And how do you know that dingus?”

Steve giggles, “Because I have the sudden urge to tell you about my crush on Eddie and how that is very confusing. And sober me swore to take that to the grave.”

Steve expects her to freak out, but instead, Robin just blinks at him. “Oh good, we’re talking about this.”

Steve frowns, “Wait, you’re not surprised?”

This seems to send Robin into hysterical giggles, the weed suddenly hitting her at the same time. “C’mooooon, Stevie. You’re so obvious. Well obvious to me, at least. The rest of our friends couldn’t spot another queer person for the life of them. Like seriously, half of them gotta be at least some sort of gay—“

“Robbie.”

“Right, sorry. I just know ya, dingus. And I know your heart eyes. The real ones, not the ones you made at me at some point.”

“Gross. Don’t bring that up.”

Robin rolls her eyes fondly, and giggles softer this time. “It’s okay to like him, ya know. Think he might be good for ya.”

Steve leans his head against Robin’s shoulder. “Yea, I think so too.” He grabs her hand, and gives it a squeeze. “Just like Nancy is good for you.”

Robin whips her head towards Steve, clunking their heads together. “You know about that? How?!”

Steve rubs his forehead, “I had suspicions which you just confirmed.” He bumps his head against her gently, “But mostly it’s because I know ya dingus.”

This sends the both of them into hysterical laughter. It’s at this moment Eddie decides to rejoin the two of them, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

This only makes Steve and Robin laugh harder. So hard they can’t breathe, like they are trying to steal each other's oxygen.

“Hey, this is a new house, and I won’t have you guys tainting it with bad-mouthing me before Wayne and I can properly break it in.” Eddie feigns annoyance, but a fond smile tries to break his way onto his face.

“Sorry Doofus.”

“Sorry Eds.”

Eddie walks over and plops between them on the carpet. “Apology accepted. Now, spill.” He grins wide with a mischievous smile.

Steve and Robin only giggle in response. Eyes locked with secrets just for them, just for a little while longer.

***

shorter than my usual, but felt like a lil fun piece. If anyone wants to add or give this idea a try that would be cool, I’m so tired my brain can’t function (much like the terror twins🧡) right now to write more lol.

good night :)

#steddie #platonic stobin #they are both bad at love but are great wingman #Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley being separated at birth #stobin being stobin #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #my writing #eddie munson #ficlet #mentioned:#ronance #Nancy wheeler #steve x eddie

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slut4thebroken · 11 months

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 4

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Dr. Crane tests a new drug on you and punishes your disobedience.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, dub con, p in v sex, crying, breeding, unprotected sex, drugs, coercion, impact play, bondage, degradation, humiliation, emotional manipulation, non consensual groping, angst, stockholm syndrome

Words | 6.6k

Notes | Sorry I did not mean to make this chapter so long lol but there's not really a good place for me to cut it unless I want a super short chapter.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 3

The next few days were relatively uneventful. You ate, tried to sleep, and showered, not really interacting with anyone. You also didn’t see Dr. Crane that whole time either. Which was nice, but you were anxiously awaiting his return for three straight days. Three days of barely sleeping, panicking when someone walked down the hall or opened your cell. But the fourth day came and you knew that when the orderly took you from your cell, you were being taken to him.

“Have a seat.” He said, finishing writing something, but pausing when you didn’t move. “Is something wrong?” That made you scoff.

“Seriously? You drugged and raped me.”

“With your consent.” He added.

“Through coercion!”

“What’s done is done. Sit.” You clenched your jaw and your fists, digging your nails into your palms, but decided to do what he said. “Thank you. I apologize for being gone so long, there was something I had to attend to.” It took everything in you to not tell him that you don’t fucking care and it was the best three days you’ve had since he kidnapped you.

“However I did have some time to work on some modifications for the drug you tried.” You scoffed at the way he made it seem like it was voluntary. “It should still lower your inhibitions,” He said as he pulled out his desk drawer and took out a syringe, “but it shouldn’t necessarily make you aroused. We’re going to find out.” His lips turned up into a small smirk, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m not fucking taking that shit again.” You said bitterly, watching the way his smirk turned into an amused expression.

“It truly baffles me how you still think you have a choice.” He said, standing up and walking toward you, making you stand to back away from him. “If I need to use force, I’m more than willing to do so.”

“Fuck you.”

He stopped walking and sighed, then went back to his desk, calling someone to come in. When a large man opened and closed the door, your breath caught in your throat.

“I just need you to hold her still while I administer this. Afterwards she shouldn’t be a problem.” He said to the orderly, who nodded and walked toward you.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, trying to move away from him, but you accidentally cornered yourself. You could either go toward the orderly, or toward Dr. Crane. The man didn’t give you a chance to decide before he was lunging toward you and pushing you back until you slammed into the wall, knocking the breath out of you and making your vision spin. In your disoriented state, Dr. Crane was able to easily grab your face and turn your head to inject the drug. When they both stepped back, you stayed leaning against the wall, head pounding from the force of him pushing you into it.

“That’ll be all, thank you.”

You whimpered at the throbbing pain, but he paid no mind to your dramatics. Letting yourself slide down the wall until you were sitting against it and hugging your knees, you couldn’t hold down the sob crawling up your throat.

“I don’t wanna do it again.” You whimpered, grabbing the sides of your head and resting your face on your knees. You babbled out incoherent protests and pleas, trying not to give in to the feeling flooding your brain, calming you down, making the emotions you were feeling only seconds ago, all but disappear, now a distant thought. When your sobbing died down after a few minutes, he moved his chair back and turned to face you.

“Look at me.” You obeyed, wiping your tear stained cheeks with a sniffle. “How do you feel?”

“Normal? I don’t- I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You croaked.

“What do you mean by normal?”

“I feel like how I used to feel.”

“Elaborate.” He said, quickly growing impatient.

“Before… you. I feel like how I felt before you- before you… took me.”

“You feel like you can trust me?” You just nodded in response. “Come here and sit down.” You obeyed, sitting across from him, waiting for his next command.

“Do you feel like you would be honest with me?” Another silent nod. “Do you think you could lie?” You hesitated at that.

“I- I’m not sure.”

“Let’s find out. I’m going to ask something I know the answer to, I want you to lie. What did you see during the experiment?”

“You.”

“Another just to be sure… You moved to Gotham a year ago, yes or no?”

“N-no?” Despite the simple questions, your brain was still getting confused over what he wanted.

“Interesting. So you’ll tell me anything I ask?” You nodded hesitantly. “What is your biggest fear?”

“You...” You said quietly, feeling awkward saying it to his face.

“What was your biggest fear?”

“Being raped.”

“Do you think that with time, you could become willing and eager to participate in my experiments?”

“Um… yes? I think? I would now.” You said, making his brows raise.

“You would?” You just nodded. “What about your treatment? Are you willing and eager to continue that now too?”

“If that’s what you want, yes…” You said quietly, cheeks growing warm.

“Fascinating. You’re still aware of your fears, but this has completely overridden it.” You internally beamed at the fact that he seemed pleased with you. “I’d like to try something.” He said as he opened the briefcase on his desk, then put on the mask. He walked over to you and you waited patiently.

“You’re not scared?” He asked, tilting his head.

“No?” He hummed in acknowledgment, then sprayed the toxin in your face, making you flinch back and start coughing. Now that you knew what to expect, it wasn’t as bad, but it was still unpleasant.

“Look at me.” He said eagerly and you obeyed. “What do you see?”

“Just you.” Then, after you remembered how this conversation went last time, added, “Dr. Crane. I see Dr. Crane’s face.” He took a step back, staring down at you, making you squirm. “Did I say the wrong thing?” You asked quietly, wondering why he was looking at you like that.

“As long as it was the truth, then no.” You breathed a sigh of relief at that. As you stared up at him, it looked like his face was glitching between him and the scarecrow mask he put on. “What are you seeing now?”

“Still you, but also… the mask? It’s changing.”

“My toxin is wearing off significantly faster.” He muttered to himself. Then, to you, “I’m going to try something. Stand up.” You rose from your seat and waited as he moved closer to you. He placed a hand on your neck and squeezed lightly. “That doesn’t frighten you?”

“…No?”

“Does it arouse you?”

“A little I guess.” He moved his hand down to grope your breast, making your breath hitch.

“And how does this make you feel?” He asked, tone void of any emotion.

“Good?”

“What about this?” He cupped your sex, making your hips flinch forward.

“Good.” You said through a breath.

“Do you want me to keep doing it?” You nodded and he pulled back completely, walking to his desk, making you almost whine.

“Bring in Dr. Bowman.” He said into the phone. “I want to try something else. When he gets here, you’ll listen to me, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He said, then the door was being opened and a man was walking inside. “Thank you for coming, I’ll only need a moment of your time.”

“No problem. What can I do for you?”

“I need you to touch her.”

“What?” You and the doctor both asked in unison.

“I just need to verify something.” When he hesitated, Dr. Crane continued. “I am aware of your history here and I’m giving you permission, so what’s the problem?” He waited a moment as if he was expecting Dr. Crane to say that this was all a joke. When he didn’t, he shrugged, moving toward you.

“If you say so.” He said and you stepped back, looking to the other man for help.

“Stay.” He demanded, making your legs freeze.

“Where?” The other doctor asked as he looked you up and down with revolting hunger.

“Start with her breasts.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. You wanted to recoil away from him as he reached out, but you couldn’t make yourself do it. He groped you slow but firm and you couldn’t hide the grimace on your face. “What about that?” He addressed you this time.

“Don’t like it…” You muttered.

“You can touch between her legs- over her clothes.” He said, making you whine in disfavor. The doctor eagerly obeyed, cupping your sex more aggressively than Dr. Crane had. He rubbed your clit through your pants and you held back tears as you couldn’t make yourself move away.

“And that?” All you could do was shake your head while you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for it to be over. “Thank you, Dr. Bowman, that’ll be all.” Despite the obvious dismissal, the man didn’t move yet. “Leave.” He growled, making the man huff but obey. He waited until the door slammed shut before talking to you again.

“You seem to have formed a connection to me specifically. If I had to guess why… maybe because I administered the drug. Although that’s unlikely.” He said, walking back over to his desk to write down his thoughts and telling you to sit back down. “Other than the occasional escort and other patients, you're mostly only seeing me… Can you answer me honestly again?” He said, looking up from his writing.

“Yes.”

“Have you formed some kind of attachment or feelings toward me?” Your brows furrowed as you stared at him, caught off guard by the question.

Have you? Even though right now it feels like you have, you remember how you felt four days ago when the drug wore off and how you felt every time you were around him before that. But you also remember how you used to feel during your sessions, just sitting and talking, fully trusting him.

“I think… I did? Before you brought me here. But it- it’s hard to tell now.”

“How so?”

“I can’t tell if it’s really how I feel or not.”

“So you’re cognizant of the fact that the drug is changing your perception?” You nodded. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Not right now. But I remember that it bothered me last time after it wore off.” He hummed in acknowledgment, writing something down, then taking off his glasses and furrowing his brows as he thought.

“It’s almost like I’ve accelerated the stockholm syndrome process rather than simply alter your feelings.” He muttered to himself.

“You think I have stockholm syndrome?” You asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Early stage, but yes.” You frowned and looked away from him. “Does that bother you?”

“I feel like it’s supposed to.”

“But it doesn’t?” You shook your head.

He asked you questions for a while before someone opened the door, reminding him of an appointment. He checked his watch and sighed, then dismissed you, calling an orderly to escort you back to your cell.

The drugs wore off and you had a long crying session, trying to make your head feel like your own again. You tried to think plainly about what he did- drug you against your will, grope you, and have someone else grope you. It doesn’t matter what your headspace was, he still did that, knowing you wouldn’t want him to. And that was just today.

But those thoughts were getting muddled in your brain. Instead, the more clear ones were how he had a normal conversation with you when you were on his lap, how he gave you relief from that aphrodisiac even after he was done and trying to work, and the way he smiled when you said something that pleased him.

You were getting confused. So you tried to repeat all the bad things he did to you, but the more you said it, the harder it was to remember.

You saw him over a week later- you know because you started counting after the second day. And you grew to miss his calm presence. The nurses and orderlies were mean and the patients were all bat shit crazy, as well as mean. You hated being around everyone because of that.

As you sat across from him, anxiously picking at your cuticles and bouncing your leg, you were reminded of your first session with him.

“You were gone a long time.” You finally said, breaking the silence, making him look up from his work.

“I have other things I need to attend to besides you.” He said plainly. Your stomach twisted and you averted your gaze to the ground, swallowing thickly. “I hear your behavior has improved.” All you could do was shrug in response, still not looking at him.

“Is something wrong?” He sighed, making you look up at him. You were silent as you tried to think of a response. How can you answer when you don’t even truly know what is happening?

“I feel like I’m going insane.” You said quietly, looking away from him and biting your bottom lip when it started trembling.

“Insane?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You whispered, voice breaking. You blinked back tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself further.

“I can only help you if you tell me.” His tone wasn’t empathetic, it was clinical and detached.

“I don’t like being around anyone else here. And this past week was just so dull and- and long. It was so long. And I’m trying to make myself remember but it keeps getting foggier,”

“Remember what?”

“What you did. That I hate you.” You whimpered, not meeting his gaze. “I hate you because you ruined my life, but- but I just… What’s happening to me?” You whispered brokenly, hearing him let out a soft sigh.

“I can give you something so you don’t feel like that.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “What I gave you last time.”

“No- no. I don’t- want to not feel like that. I want to remember, I want to hate you. I want to… I want to leave.” You whispered the last part, unsure.

“I can’t let you do that. Not in your current state.” You let out a choked sob, only this time you weren’t sure if it was because you were upset or relieved that he denied you…

“I don’t understand. Why me? Why did you take me?” You cried, watching his form become blurry from unshed tears.

“The more I learn about your mind, the more intrigued I become.” He said simply.

“Out of millions of people in Gotham, some who probably have more interesting minds than I do, you just had to pick me?” You scoffed.

“Let’s not forget that you came to me.”

“No.” You hissed. “I came to a psychologist who specialized in psychotherapy for the treatment of phobias. Not some fucking psycho doing illegal experiments on non consenting patients.”

“Do not raise your voice at me,”

“How are you so fucking calm?” You asked, louder than before. “How does none of this bother you? How can you so easily rape and drug me repeatedly?”

“I do what I do because I am dedicated to my work.”

“Bullshit! You’re just insecure and need to have power over everyone’s minds to make yourself feel like you’re above them but you’re not.”

“I recommend you choose your next words carefully.” He said lowly.

“Or what? You’ll drug and rape me again? That trick’s getting old, doctor.” You spat, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest. As he stared at you, you forced yourself to maintain eye contact.

“You know, I was planning on having a nice conversation with you. Give you more of that drug, let you decide if you want to resume your treatment today or not.” He said, opening a drawer and taking out a syringe. “Now you’re going to spend the next week in isolation, tied down, getting more of this everyday.” He said, raising the syringe to indicate what he was talking about.

“Unless you apologize and correct your behavior immediately.”

“Apologize?” You scoffed.

“For being a fucking brat and abusing my kindness.” He said harshly, not even raising his voice.

“So- what, I tell you something we both know is true and now you’re going to have a tantrum about it? “Punish” me so you can regain control, is that it?” You did your best to hide the growing fear, trying to sound assertive.

“You know what? Punishing you physically won’t do any good.” He said, opening the drawer and switching out the syringe for another. “Your mind however? Well you just confessed that one dose of this has already started to break you down. I shouldn’t need much more before you lose the battle to your own mind completely.” When he started walking toward you, you stood up and staggered back.

“Be a good girl and let me do this and I won’t hurt you as much as I plan to.” He sneered and your body started trembling from his words.

“Fuck you.” You spat.

When he lunged at you and managed to push you into a wall, you shoved his chest, making him stagger back a step. You used that opportunity to run, but before you could even take two steps, he was grabbing your hair and yanking you backwards until you fell to the ground. He placed a knee on your chest, resting his weight on it, then used one hand to turn your head and painfully push your face into the floor while the other injected you.

He waited impatiently for the drug to kick in before telling you to follow him as he grabbed the briefcase from his desk. You obeyed and he led you to an elevator, going down two floors. As you walked down the hallway, your eyes widened at the sight of the patients in the cells, some restrained, some not. Most screaming or crying or both. The ones who weren’t were just muttering things to themselves, staring blankly at the wall or floor. He stopped in front of a cell and unlocked it before leading you inside.

“Mr. Williams, how are you?” The patient visibly got hit with a wave of panic when he walked in. He started shaking his head, muttering incoherently, body shaking under the straps of the bed he was on. “Since you’re mostly immune to the toxin with that drug in your system, I’m not going to give you a mask.” He explained to you, opening the briefcase and taking out his mask and the fear toxin.

“Do it.” He said, presenting the canister to you.

“What?” You asked with wide eyes.

“Take it.” He waited until you obeyed before continuing. “Do it.”

“I- I don’t…”

“Now.” Your body stiffened at the harsh tone and you unwillingly stepped closer to the man. As you stood in front of him, you could make out some of the words he was muttering, like ‘no’ and ‘please.’ You hesitated, looking back at the man in the mask who just stared at you, waiting. As you slowly raised your hand, his muttering turned into sobs, begging you not to.

“I- I’m sorry.” You whispered, knowing the effects of even a small dose and not wanting to make someone else experience that. You sprayed it at him, then took a step back, listening to the way his sobs turned into full blown wails and screams.

“Good.” He said, startling you and making you turn to face him.

“Why did you make me do that?” You frowned. You knew why. It was so that he could display his control over you. But the thought didn’t make much sense in your cloudy head. You blinked rapidly as you watched him start to glitch between burlap and skin, trying to make it stop and just see one.

“I’ll make you a deal. You help me with my experiments and I’ll stop everything I’ve been doing to you. No more drugs, no more treatments, no more fear toxin. You live as a normal patient, but you assist me everyday.” Your frown deepened and you looked away from him. “It’s either you and them, or just them. The question is whether or not you’ll be able to live with yourself after being the cause of that every single day.” He gestured to the man behind you who was now writing under the restraints, still screaming and crying.

“Think about it. As for right now, you still need to be punished for your behavior.” He said, walking out the room. Once the door was closed, he pulled off the mask and put it and the canister away before leading you somewhere.

“Punished how?” You asked quietly, growing more and more nervous when he ignored you. Finally you reached a room and he opened the door, walking in behind you and locking the door as you eyed the room anxiously. It looked like a doctor's office. There were cabinets on a few of the walls, as well as a sink. The only difference was the restraints on the exam chair.

“Sit.” He said, not looking at you as he walked over to a counter to set the briefcase on. You tentatively walked toward the chair and sat down, watching him. “Take off your clothes and sit back.” Your face flushed at his words, but you did what he said anyway, slowly removing your clothing, then hesitantly sitting back down. You eyed the stirrups nervously, hoping he would just pull out the bottom of the chair to make a table and have you lay down instead. But when has anything worked out for you here?

“Put your legs up.” Your blush deepened as your legs moved up on his command. He strapped you in, then attached the cuffs on either side of the chair to your wrists so that your arms stayed by your sides. When he walked back to the counter, you let out a shaky breath.

“Do you like pain?” He asked, fidgeting with something before turning back around, mask in hand.

“N-no?”

“You have a cnc kink and you expect me to believe that?” He scoffed teasingly. He walked back over until he was next to you and your eyes moved between his face and the mask.

“I- I like a little.” You said honestly, making him smile.

“That’s good. I plan on inflicting more than a little so this should be a suitable punishment.” He placed the mask over your head backwards so that you couldn’t see through the eye holes in the front. When you didn’t feel or hear anything, you strained your ears, trying to get some indication of what he’s doing. You faintly heard a cabinet open and close, then a hand was placed on your thigh, making you jump. He rubbed up and down slowly, teasingly, and you tried not to squirm under his touch.

“Have you ever used any bdsm toys before?” He lifted his hand so that only his fingertips touched your skin, raising goosebumps.

“A few.” You squeaked out when his fingers grazed over your mound, just inches above your clit, to do the same to your other leg.

“Arkham has quite a collection. I don’t particularly enjoy them myself, but a lot of the orderlies prefer that method of punishing patients, rather than your typical electroshock therapy or ice bath.” His fingers trailed all the way down to your ankle before slowly moving back up.

“They like the extra amount of humiliation that it adds and in your case, I have a feeling you’ll enjoy that too, but your mind won’t.” He removed his hand and you stiffened in anticipation, then flinched when you felt his feather light touch on your stomach moving up to your chest. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even come from this. If you do, I won’t stop you, and you’ll have to accept the fact that you came from a punishment that had no intention of bringing you pleasure.” He said softly, moving up between your breasts.

“As someone who’s studied psychology, I know what that can do to a person. You’re going to have to acknowledge that you enjoyed it- that you wanted it. Even if your mind disagrees, your body won’t lie to you.” He traced over your collar bones, then went down the outside of your breast, nowhere near your hardening nipple.

“And once you give in to that fact, you’ll have to admit that the only reason you enjoyed it was because it was by my hand.” He grazed across your stomach, then up the outside of your other breast. “As we discovered last week, you only respond positively to my touch. Do you know why that is?” He asked, removing his hand as he waited for an answer. You shook your head and released a low whine.

“Because you want my touch. You want me. Sure, your conscious mind might not be able to admit that, but your subconscious knows. The sooner you accept that, the sooner your time here will become more enjoyable.” You weren’t sure how to respond, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to.

“Ready?” He asked, voice back at a normal volume.

“For what,” A sharp smack on your clit had you crying out, at first from shock, but after a second from pain. It definitely wasn’t his hand, so if you had to guess it was probably a paddle.

“I’m going to hit you until you break, I don’t care how long it takes. Do you understand?” You whined and squirmed in your binds, barely able to move. “Answer me.” He growled, emphasizing his words with another strike.

“Y-yes! Yes, I- I understand.”

The third time he hit you, you choked on a gasp. By the fifth time, you were letting out little sounds and breaths. By the tenth time you felt tears growing in your eyes. He barely paused between hits, never allowing you a genuine moment to get your bearings. And the mask made everything worse since you never knew when he was about to hit you again. After a few more he stopped, then strands of leather were being lightly dragged over your chest.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, trailing it over your nipples, then down to your stomach.

“A flogger?” You choked out, body stiffening every time he removed it from your skin.

“That’s right. Have you ever used one before?” His words almost sounded like praise, adding to the arousal quickly building in your stomach.

“No.”

“I’ve heard it can be quite painful- like knives cutting your skin, depending on how hard you hit. Shall we see if that’s true?”

“No…” You whimpered, squirming away from the strands grazing your skin.

“No?” You shook your head hesitantly. When the strands came down on your breast with a light slap, you flinched dramatically, making him chuckle under his breath. He hit you again, slightly harder this time, but it still didn’t hurt yet. In fact, you had to bite your lip to keep the sounds of pleasure in. He hit you three more times, then you heard footsteps before he started on your other breast.

“You turn such a pretty shade of pink.” He said quietly, making you choke out an embarrassing sound. “Do you like it when I compliment you like that?” You nodded and he hit you slightly harder in response. “Use your words.”

“Yes.” You said through a breath. After he finished the five hits, he trailed it down your stomach to between your legs, making you try to close them.

“But you like it when I degrade and humiliate you too?” He asked, lightly dragging the strands over your sensitive clit, making your hips flinch.

“Yes…” You whined.

“I can tell. That’s why your pussy is dripping already.” You let out a choked moan as your whole face grew warm- the only positive part of wearing the mask. He brought the toy down lightly, teasing you, making you squirm in anticipation.

“I bet you want me to fuck you too.” He said absentmindedly, lightly hitting you again. “You want my cock stretching that needy little cunt don’t you? Just give me the word and I’ll do it.” You whined as he purposefully brushed the strands over your clit. You did want that- really fucking bad. But can you say that out loud?

“I- I want…” He reached forward to lift the mask up enough to see your face and your blush burned brighter.

“Go on. Be a good little whore and beg for it. Beg for your captor to fuck you.” You let out a long, needy whine, bucking your hips up as much as you could in the restraints.

“I’m not giving you anything until you ask for it. I’m sick of you calling it rape when we both know you want it more than I do.” He scoffed, moving the toy up your leg slowly.

“Fuck me…” You muttered, barely audible.

“Speak up.” He said firmly, emphasizing it with a strike on your inner thigh.

“Fuck me.” You whined, not looking at him.

“I can’t fucking hear you.” He hit your other thigh, harder this time, and you swallowed down a whimper.

“Fuck me! I want you to fuck me- Please.” You cried, feeling the blush spread down to your chest. He relented, holding the paddle and flogger in one hand so he could open his pants enough to free his cock.

“Maybe I should’ve been more specific,” He started as he stroked his cock to full hardness, “I’m not going to fuck you yet.” He said, making you frown. “I’m just going to bury my cock in that tight little pussy and feel you clench around me every time I hit your clit. Maybe I’ll keep hitting you until you make me come, we’ll find out.” He shrugged, leaning down and spitting on your hole before lining himself up.

You let out a low moan as he sunk in, not stopping until he was fully sheathed inside you. He groaned under his breath and closed his eyes for a second. Resting the flogger on your stomach, he readied the paddle in his right hand and pulled out just enough to have space to hit you.

The first hit made you both release loud moans and you started squirming as you grew more eager for him to fuck you. He placed a strong hand on your hip and pushed you down.

“Stop moving.” He hissed, making you freeze. He gave you another experimental hit, adjusted the position to have a better angle, then hit you again.

He maintained a steady beat, not too hard, but hard enough that while he kept doing it, tears welled in your eyes. When he increased the intensity, you cried out, a few tears starting to fall.

“It- it hurts, Dr. Crane, please.” You cried, trying to squirm away from the constant pain that was only getting worse.

“You can take it.” He said and you squeezed your eyes shut while you shook your head.

“Hurts too much.” You whined, making him slow to a stop.

“I have a question for you.” He said, so you let your eyes flutter open. “How does it make you feel knowing that you’ve disappointed me?” Your brows furrowed at the question.

“I- I didn’t mean to,”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Bad…”

“What about knowing that you’ve upset me?”

“Still bad.”

“Good to know. I guess since you can’t take it, that means we’re done.” He shrugged, pulling out of you, making you whine.

“Done?”

“Well you can’t handle what I wanted to do so yes, we're done.” He picked up the flogger and reached for the mask, making you panic.

“Wait-” You said suddenly and he froze as he waited for you to continue. “I… disappointed you?” You said hesitantly, almost confused.

“Yes.”

“I- I didn’t…” He stayed silent, waiting for the rest. “I didn’t mean to.” You said quietly.

“Well you did.” The harshness of his tone made you flinch.

“I’m sorry…”

“I don’t forgive you.” He said simply. “I went through all of that trouble to give you what you want but you can’t even do one thing that I want?” He scoffed, making your frown deepen.

“No I- I’m sorry. You can keep going.” You whimpered, trying to ignore the way your burning clit was protesting your words.

“I can keep going or you want me to keep going?”

“…I want you to.” He stared at you as he thought and you tried to wait patiently and not fidget.

“Fine. I’ll give you what you want, but you owe me, okay?” You nodded, trying not to seem too eager. He slipped back inside and you let out a relieved sigh as you felt full again.

“I’m going to hit harder this time, but I’m only going to do ten. I want you to count them, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He lined up the paddle and you watched anxiously, body tense. He wasn’t lying, the first hit was significantly harder than the previous ones.

“One.” You whimpered, trying not to squirm. He lined up the paddle for the second hit, the sharp pain making you let out a choked sob. “Two.”

“Look at me.” He said sternly and your watery eyes fluttered up to his face. He hit you again and you squeezed your eyes shut as you cried out, but quickly opened them when you remembered his words.

“Three.”

“You poor thing. Does it hurt a lot?” He cooed, rubbing the leather over your aching clit.

“Yes.” You pouted, hoping he’d go easier on you. Instead, he brought the paddle down the hardest he had so far. You let out a quiet sob and started writhing. “Four.” You croaked. On the next strike, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. “Five.” You whispered, looking up at him through wet lashes with furrowed brows, your bottom lip trembling.

“Do you like it?” He asked casually. You shook your head with a whimper, feeling more tears fall. “No?”

“No.” You said through a sob, making him smile.

“Good.” He hit you again, barely letting you get the word out before hitting you again.

“S-six. Seven.” You whined.

“I think you’re lying though- I think you do like it. Why else would you be clenching down on my cock so hard?” He brought the paddle down again, waiting for you to count this time.

“Eight.” Before you could finish he was hitting you again. “Nine.” You cried, clit burning so bad it almost felt like you were on fire. The last one was the hardest of them all, making you let out a broken sob as even more tears streamed down your cheeks. “Ten.” You whimpered, staring at his face that was blurry from the few tears that remained unshed. He set the paddle on your stomach with the whip, then used his thumbs to pull your folds apart, examining you.

“Such a pretty shade of red.” He mumbled with a small smile. When he brushed an experimental finger over your clit, your hips twitched as you whimpered. “That hurts?” He asked, looking back up at your face. You nodded with a pout, hoping that would be enough to make him not want to draw out your pain. Surprisingly, it was.

He moved his gaze down as he placed both hands on your thighs for a better grip, then slowly pulled out, letting you feel every inch of him before pushing back in. He started up a cruel, teasing pace, slowly rolling his hips into yours, making you let out a needy whine.

“Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered and his eyes snapped up to yours. He sped up, now seemingly chasing his own orgasm, using your body for his pleasure. When he touched your clit again, his lips curled up into a small smirk as you gasped out, your hips trying to move away from his fingers.

“Keep squeezing me like that.” He groaned, rubbing your clit again, this time maintaining the cruel touch. You let out pained whimpers along with needy whines, the pleasure and pain confusing your fucked out, drugged mind.

His hips stuttered and he removed his fingers from your clit to grab your thigh again and pull you flush to him as he let out a low groan. His hips bucked into you with each pulse of come that hit your walls, and you could just barely feel your orgasm starting to grow, but once he stilled inside you, it quickly disappeared.

He pulled out, then examined your hole with a small smirk, pulling your folds apart for a better view. When his come trickled out, his expression faltered.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, voice small, worried you were the cause of the sudden shift. He didn’t answer you as he freed your limbs and collected the mask and toys to bring to the counter. “Did I do something?” You tried not to cry at the thought.

“No.”

“Oh… Then what’s wrong?”

“Why do you care?” He said coldly as he turned to face you. “You’re supposed to hate me, remember? That’s what you wanted.”

“I- I just…”

“Stop talking. For once just stop fucking talking.” He spat, making your brows furrow as you frowned.

“Sorry…” You whispered as you averted your gaze to the floor.

“What did I just say?” He snapped, making you flinch as your eyes started watering. You didn’t understand where this was coming from. Especially because he’s never talked to you like this before— emotional. He slammed the briefcase shut then walked over to the cabinet to put the toys away.

“Get dressed.” You slid off the table, then pulled on your discarded clothing, grimacing at the mess between your legs, too scared to ask if it was okay for you to clean it. He didn’t say another word as he left the room with you following him. He walked quickly, you barely managed to keep up with him until he stopped in front of your cell and opened it.

“I don’t understand what,”

“Get in.” He said coldly, gaze hard.

“What did I do wrong?” He grabbed your bicep and shoved you in, making you whimper and grab you now aching arm. He’s never been this rough with you in just normal circumstances. “Why are you mad at me? I don’t understand.” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling, now hurt from his words and his actions. Before you could protest, he was slamming the door shut and walking away.

You stared at the door as your eyes started to burn and your chest started to ache. Trying to think back to what you could’ve done, nothing came to mind. You didn’t complain or fight him at all. But he only seemed upset after he pulled out, while you were just laying there, not moving or speaking.

What else could it have been then? You thought back to your conversation after the switch. ‘Why do you care?’ He asked.

Why do you care?? The answer couldn’t come to you. You just knew that seeing him like that was upsetting and you wanted to help him stop feeling like that. But there wasn’t a reason behind that either.

Part 5

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow #smut #jonathan crane smut #exposure therapy

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) (Steddie X You)

A/N: Like I said last week, I was watching the music video for "Queen of the Night" by Whitney Houston from the soundtrack of this movie and it gave me this Steddie idea.

I have a few ideas I can take this! I seriously love protective Steddie. Probably something to do with my PTSD and need to feel safe lol Anyway... I hope you enjoy it! I dedicate this to @unfocused81 <3

Warnings: No smut (yet😈) but angst for sure. Security Steddie and Singer female reader. It is mentioned that Y/N does drink excessively and do drugs. Her boyfriend is a douchebag and assaults her (mentions of smacking and grabbing her, yelling at her, and calling her names) that results in Steddie intervening. There is also a bit of a riot at one of shows that they protect her from (kind of like that scene in the movie where people jump on stage and chaos ensues).

I wouldn't really call this dark themes but reader definitely has some things going on and is struggling a lot right now.

Work count: 5906

“What kind of security work have you guys done before?”

Your manager leans against the outside of his desk as he continues to scan through the messages on his phone.

“Oh, um, we’ve done a lot before for the bar in our town and most recently a rock band in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, the manager cuts Steve off as he speaks. “That’s all well and good. Look, I’m going to level with you. This is essentially expensive babysitting. Y/N is a handful. Our last security detail quit when her last party at her house caused a riot in the streets of LA.”

“A riot?”, Eddie turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

The guy sets his phone down, sighing with impatience. “Yes. Obviously, you two don’t read or watch the news…which is good. Saves me the headache. Now, do you want the job or not?”

Both boys glance at each other before looking towards the man again. “Um, yeah sure. I mean it pays, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Ok, she’s at the studio downstairs right now recording…or at least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. Go introduce yourselves. Glad to have you aboard.”, he rolls his eyes as he shoos them out of his office.

“Steve are you sure about this?”, Eddie asks as they head for the elevator.

“Yeah. Come on, Munson. This is our ticket to high-rate clients and more money! We can handle one little girl.”

As soon as they get off on the right floor, they are met with extremely loud music and giggles from the studio room. A tall, lanky kid leans back in his chair extending his hand to greet both boys.

“Hey, are ya’ll the security? I’m Devon. She’s in there ‘getting inspired’.” Their eyes follow his finger as he points behind the glass where you and some of your friends were strewn around the floor. “Good luck, gentlemen.”, he sings.

Both men carefully tip toe around arms and legs to find you with your eyes closed, a half smirk painted across your lips.

“Uh, Miss Y/L/N? I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson. We’re your new personal security guards.”

“Hmm…sounds sexy.”, you slur. Your glassy, drug fueled eyes look up to meet theirs. “At least Jack hired some good-looking ones this time. Who is who?”

“Maybe, if you stood up and actually greeted us, you would have heard who is who the first time.”, Eddie chided.

Your eyes fully open as your head tilts in his direction. No one ever had the balls to scold you like that since you became famous. It was usually “Yes ma’am” this or “Anything you want, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.”. Rising to your feet, you fully take them in through your haze.

They both were attractive especially with that air of confidence you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your current boyfriend was cocky but definitely not confident. Everyone else around you seemed so fucking timid and you hated it.

“Eddie. Steve.”, Steve repeated, pointed to his friend then himself.

He was dressed head to toe in what you would call “conventional” clothes; nothing designer or anything to make him stand out. You could tell under the button up white, short sleeve shirt that he did have muscles that could protect you physically if need be. The jeans and sneakers he donned didn’t give you any new information that could tell you something about him except he probably didn’t make a whole lot of money.

Eddie was more or less the same with a much more grunge fashion sense that, to you, he pulled off well. You pointed to his Metallica t-shirt with your finger.

“My music isn’t like theirs. It might make your ears bleed.”

“As long as I can still see you and see you’re safe, I think I’ll survive.”

He’s quick witted. I like that…

“Ok. We’ll give it a try. Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at my house and I can tell you more about what you’ll be doing.”

***

“Steven Harrington, have you read half this stuff?”, Eddie sighs as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees as he points at things on his laptop.

“She’s been arrested twice; once for possession and another for disorderly conduct where she was found having sex with someone while she was drunk in public. The cops have been called to her house multiple times due to, honestly, take your fucking pick. Her boyfriend was arrested just last week for sucker punching one of her fans for ‘getting too close’. How are we supposed to protect someone who invites all this chaos into her life.”

“I don’t know, Ed. The same way you protect anyone I guess.”, Steve leans back on the couch as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “Again, this is just a steppingstone. I’m sure after a few months of handling her, any number of high value agencies will want to hire us. WHICH MEANS…”, he glances towards Eddie. “…you need to control your Dom voice.”

The metalhead chuckles as he leans back as well. “It’s going to be hard with a fucking brat like her. Dude, she didn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello.”

“I know… I know… but just, try. For me?”

#########

It takes you awhile to open the door when they knock but when you finally do, you look completely hung over.

“Yeah, come…come in. Do you want something to drink? Jack? Vodka? I have them all.”

“It’s 10am.”, Steve responds as he looks at his watch.

You raise an eyebrow at him before heading for the kitchen and grabbing the whole bottle of Jack Daniels. “If you’re boring, Eddie. Just say that.”

“Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Right now, I don’t care—”

“We can tell.”, Eddie growls.

You blink as you look up at him. You’ve never wanted to toy with a man so bad in your life. He wasn’t even trying to hide that your disrespect was bothering him and honestly you couldn’t get enough.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I don’t do mornings. Unfortunately, my manager insists on scheduling interviews for me that require me to up at this ungodly hour.” They watch you as you slump onto the couch and throw your arm over your eyes. “So, how much did Jack tell you?”

“Uh, just the basics. We watch out for you.”

“Good. It’s just following me around and making sure I don’t get swarmed or murdered. I’ll give you guys a key to my house before you leave today and when I stay at hotels I’ll do the same. You’ll most likely be staying in the same room as me anyway so…”

The sound of banging on your front door makes you cringe. “I guess I’ll get it.”, Eddie sighs as Steve’s eyes follow him. “Your makeup people are here, your highness.”

A big grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look over at them. “I like him. Steven, you need to start stepping it up or he’ll become my favorite.”

The metalhead lazily glances towards his friend with playful wide eyes. “Well, lucky me.”

***

As snotty as your attitude was, they couldn’t deny how beautiful you were especially after your prep team was done putting you together. The makeup hid all damage you had done to yourself the night before and the outfit they had you in sexily showed off all your curves. Your eyes shifted to them, watching them as they looked around.

“No one is going to shoot me in here, boys.”

“Hm. You never know.”, Eddie exhales as he points to things. “Someone could come in through that back door behind you or because no one checks any of these people’s IDs, someone could sneak in pretending to be a hair stylist and take you out like that.”, he snaps his fingers.

“Bags that hold all the beauty and camera equipment are big enough to hold even a rifle let alone a handgun. That’s implying someone would want to shoot you instead of stabbing or blowing you up.”, Steve followed.

“Wow. Just charming.”

“It’s our job, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think due to the circumstances you can call me Y/N.”, you grin.

The producer gets your attention, walking you through the questions that would be asked and how the interview would go. The boys watched you in amazement as your personality practically changed when the camera went live. No one would ever be able to tell what you did behind the scenes or any other narrative then the one you provided.

An hour later and after many questions, the interview ended and your face fell.

“God, I need a drink.”

“Can we at least go over the tour first?”, your manager whined.

“Baby!”

You excitedly got up and ran to your boyfriend’s arms. “Simon!”

Everyone in the room cringed at the heavy smacking sounds that left you two as he continued to sloppily kiss your lips.

“Who are the new guys?”

“Babe, these are the new security guys. This is Eddie and Steve.”

They stand up to shake his hand but as Steve extends his palm the man looks down at it like the gesture was beneath him. “Yeah, listen boys, hands off, okay? She’s mine.”, you giggle as he slaps your ass.

“Come on, baby. I got a surprise for you.” You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you towards your bedroom.

“Y/N! We still have things to go over!”, Jack shouts as the door closes loudly.

#########

“I want to go home, Steven. It’s 2am and they’ve been fucking in there all god damn day. At this point we shouldn’t have a client anymore because he killed her by not giving her any food or fucking water. It definitely won’t be due to her climaxing because I haven’t heard that happen yet.”

“We can’t leave until he does.”, Steve sighs. “Or she dismisses us for the evening.”

As if on cue, Simon saunters past them into the kitchen, casually opening your fridge, and begins chugging from a jug of orange juice. “Um, I’m pretty sure you two can leave. She’s not even here.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’m assuming she climbed out the window after I crashed. She does that to escape the security teams. It’s kind of a rite of passage honestly.”

“Where would she go?”, Eddie growls.

“Um, there’s a bar about a mile up the road. She likes to walk there for some reason.”

***

“So, pretty lady. Do you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“Ugh, no. Get off me. I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on, honey.”, the man slurred.

“Hey! The lady said no.”, Steve’s voice echoed through the bar as he starred the man down. “Leave. Now.”

The patron held up his hands defensively, staggering back towards his table.

“Come on, Y/N. Time for you to go home.”, Eddie motioned for the bartender to stop serving you as the other boy reached into your purse to pay him.

“You’re my security. Not my fucking dad. I can stay here and drink if I want.”

“You’re at a bar in a nightie, shorts, and flip flops at 2 in the morning. It’s a safety concern.”

“Oh shit.”, you giggle. “I am in my nightie.” Steve roughly grips your arm and tugs you out the door towards his car. “Let me go, you fucking dick.”

A switch flips in the man’s brain; he can’t help it. For the past couple of days, he’s tolerated your disrespect but like Eddie, he hated it. They both could handle a lot but you were pushing them too far. Still holding onto your wrist, he twirls you towards the vehicle till your back hits the door.

“Now, listen here because I’m only going to say this once. We’ve handled the tone and the blatant disregard for what we do but it ends now. Our job is to keep you safe not fucking babysit some spoiled, rich washed-up singer. This is the last time you pull a stunt like this; do you understand me?”

Steve’s body was so close to yours you could feel his angry breath fanning your face. It had been ages since someone put you in your place like this and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a bit turned on. A new feeling washed over you though as your eyes scanned his face. For the first time since you entered this industry, you actually felt safe.

They weren’t afraid to be blunt with you which compared to everyone else in your life was a nice reprieve. You knew 90% of the people in your life, given the chance, would sell you out in a heartbeat but would still stand there and tell you how perfect you were.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Eddie’s voice startled you, completely unaware he was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, glaring down at you with those same angry eyes.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now get in the car.”

#############

That following morning, they half expected to be fired but were surprised when you opened the front door as soon as they knocked.

“We have to go to the studio first and then I have to get ready for the gig tonight.”, you mumbled as you swished around them, trying to get in the backseat of his car to no avail. “Can you open the door…please?”

Eddie caught it in your tone first…something wasn’t right and it had nothing to do with them.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can we just…”, you gesture towards the car.

“HEY! When you get back tonight make sure it’s with a better fucking attitude!”, Simon yells from your front door.

“Well maybe I won’t come back, you free loading mama’s boy!”

“Stupid bitch should learn how to talk to a man.”, he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door shut.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look before the metalhead speaks to you. “Is that something we need to handle?”

“No. He’s just being a fucking prick.”

He opens your door and you slowly slide in before both men do the same. As the car begins to move, Steve keeps checking on you in his rearview mirror. Your sunglass covered eyes remain focused on the window as you stare out into the California streets.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About leaving and keeping you guys out late when you didn’t have to. Simon just pissed me off and…”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“No. Sometimes he’s an asshole.” You flash them a sassy smirk that grows when you see Eddie try and hide his own at your sarcasm. “He’s just…hot headed, you know? He’s been through a lot.”

“And you haven’t?”

Your eyes swivel to Steve before glancing down at your hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, neither should I so…”

“Just because you have an attitude doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like trash. Maybe you just need someone stronger who can handle it and not take it personally.”

“Oh? And who would that be, Steve? You?”

“Aw, Munson, that’s cute. She thinks we can’t handle her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’ve dealt with worse than you.”, he smiles as he turns around in his seat. “It’s you that can’t handle us. Thankfully though we aren’t in a relationship so we’ll never get to find out.”

“I never say never, gentlemen.”

****

After going over the tour dates, everything you would be doing, and everything you need, your next stop was the venue you would be performing at tonight.

Eddie cringed as the feedback of the mic echoed around the building.

“Hey! Try plugging it into the correct port!” The young man shrugged his shoulders causing the metalhead to go over and show the boy what he was doing wrong.

“Let me guess? Rock and Roll drummer in a Metallica cover band?”, you grin at him as the mic starts picking up your voice perfectly.

“Guitarist and our own band, not a cover band.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you musically inclined?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you good at?”

“Babysitting.”, he raised his eyebrow in your direction making your smile grow.

As the additional security from the venue finally arrived, you watched with fascination as the guys took on a more authoritative tone, telling each person where they would need to be. Time slowly dwindled till it was about twenty minutes before the show. You began pacing as you shook out your preshow jitters.

“Hey, they say they are ready for you to head towards the stage.”

You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Goddamn it! Okay, fucking thank you!” His eyes narrowed in your direction as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Can I help you with anything else?!”

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re not my father, Steven, or my friend. Get the fuck out! I’ll be right out!”

The boy bites his bottom lip as he nods his head. “Yes ma’am.” As he starts to open the door, he pauses turning to face you again. “You look really beautiful, by the way. Your voice is amazing. Eddie and I have actually never heard any of your songs before today. This will be our first concert. I’m excited to see it.”

Your wide, glassy eyes turn to look at him as he slowly begins to close the door again.

“Steve! Thank you…”

##########

That night you gave it your all and then some. Occasionally, you would glance down at the bottom of the stage watching as Steve and Eddie’s demeanor remained focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, however, you would notice a foot tap to the beat or a head would bob to your lyrics. If this was the first time they were attending a Y/N concert, you wanted them to enjoy it and show them what you bring to the entertainment table.

So many people when you were starting out told you that you would never make it. That your dream of becoming a singer was a pipe dream for people with “actual talent”. Since day one you always felt like you had to prove yourself, hell, even before you started singing. In your house growing up you felt like you had to fight to be seen.

Once you crossed that threshold, everything came easier but you never stopped fighting. Fighting the fear of being nothing again, the knowledge that everyone in your circle just wanted a piece of you and what you earned. Fighting to keep everyone happy including yourself. The alcohol and drugs helped immensely or at least that’s what you believed. You thought it helped numb your brain and the pain so you could just get through every day.

When Eddie sassed you in the studio, you knew he was different. For a while you couldn’t get a read on Steve until that night outside of the bar. The fact that neither of them had asked you to hear their demo tape or hit on you was already a point in their favor but they genuinely seemed to want to protect you so you wanted to return the favor in some way, your voice.

When the concert ended, they snuck a peak at you. Eddie was never a fan of the type of music you sang but he couldn’t deny that what you did sing went straight to his heart. Steve noticed that while you sang, it was like you transported to a different place. You seemed calmer and more in tune with yourself, making you seem more confident than when you weren’t.

This was the first time since they met you that you genuinely seemed happy.

Something in the atmosphere changed. Maybe it was too many booze served at the bar or just the energy of the evening but people in the crowd started chanting for an encore. You were exhausted having gone longer on your set then you were supposed to already. You gave the crowd your best smile, thanking them for coming out, and telling them how much you loved their support.

A fan jumped on to the stage and Eddie was quick to pull him back down. Panic set in as you watched the crowd start to fight with each other and the security team jump into action. The metalhead was in front of you and you hastily gripped his arm as he scanned the area trying to find Steve.

“Harrington?!”

After tapping his shoulder, you pointed to the corner near a wall where you saw the boy in a fist fight of his own. Eddie pushed you towards the side of the stage behind a curtain.

“Don’t move! I’ll be right back, ok?!”, he shouted over the chaos as you gave him a firm nod.

You watched as he jumped off the platform, running to pull the man off his friend and shoving him to where you were hiding. Steve didn’t even hesitate as he lifted you into his arms and they both ran down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached their car and placed you in the back seat, him climbing in with you as Eddie sped away.

“Wait…what about Jack…and everyone else?”

“No. We have to get you out and away from the building especially during a scene like that.” Steve searched through his jacket pocket for a tissue, placing it against his nose when he finally finds one.

“Are-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole got me good.”

About a mile down the road, Eddie parked the car into a gas station and got out to check you both over. “What happened, Harrington? Let someone get the best of you?”, Eddie chuckled.

“Dude, they cornered me so fast especially after I pulled him off of the venue’s security guy.”

“Did I do that? Did I do something wrong?” Their head swivel around to look at your frightened frame. “Th-that’s never happened before…I-I-I…”

“Hey, hey, hey Y/N. It’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I seriously think it was just…”, Eddie shrugs. “Beer and a packed in place. People just being…too rowdy. It happens but that’s what we’re here for.”

The man throws his arms up in surprise when you suddenly tackle him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press your head into his chest.

“Thank you…so much.” You let him go as you turn to give Steve a hug as well. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

When you started to pull back, his arms came down to hold you to him. “Hey, better me than you.”, he gently sighs, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

#######

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?! Baby, are you okay?” Simon ran to you from his place on your couch as you and the guys entered your house.

“The concert ended a bit roughly but I’m ok. Really…”

“Isn’t it your job to fucking protect her!?”

“Yes and we did that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Look at her! She’s a mess and she’s shaking!” Your boyfriend charged up to Steve who glared down at him as he continued to yell in his face.”

“Simon, leave them alone. Please, I just want to get this crap off and go to bed.”

Eddie gripped his friend’s arm as he spoke to you. “Is there anything else you need, Y/N? Do you feel safe enough for us to leave and let you rest?”

“Of course, she fucking does. I can take care of her.”

Your eyes met theirs as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to Jack and everyone in the morning.” The metalhead tugs at Steve forcing him to back down from your boyfriend. He flashes you one more cursory glance before turning around and leaving you for the night.

###########

“You boys did good last night. I don’t know what happened but you knew what to do.” Jack gave them a smile as he nodded his head in approval. “Please keep up that vigilance next week when we go on tour. I think—”

“Wait. You’re still doing the tour next week?”

Your manager looked at Eddie in confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I mean…she just went through a pretty traumatic event. I couldn’t imagine getting back up on a stage immediately after something like that.”

“Yeah, well, your security not a musician so—”

“I actually am but whatever.”

Jack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as speaks to you. “Do you feel like you need more time?”

You didn’t even hear the man’s question. Since they picked you up and brought you to your managers office, you had been uncharacteristically quiet. You were thinking about everything including what transpired last night. It WAS incredibly scary but they did pull through and keep you safe. Not only did they look after you but each other; you appreciated that loyalty.

Now as Eddie defended you, thinking of your well-being, you felt yourself spiraling at the action. No one cared about you this much and they barely even knew you. What was their end game? What made them tick? What made them this way? Was it genuine or was it just their jobs?

“Y/N!”

“Huh? Oh, um, I mean…a week would be fine…especially if I can just rest…”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”, Jack responded in a nonchalant tone. “Go ahead and take the week but be back here on Thursday so we can go over everything.”

You nod as you head out of the office with your protectors in tow. “Hey, um, did you guys want to go get some lunch or something?”

***

“So, why security?”, you ask as you bite into your burger.

“Like Steve said, I mean, we’re good at it.”

“Well, good at protecting people. Security work just allows us to get paid for it.”, the man smiles as he takes a sip from his drink.

“And you two have been friends for a while?”

“Since high school.”

“And where was that exactly?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, sweetheart. Can I ask why?”, Eddie playfully narrows his eyes in your direction making you smile.

“I just…you two are very different then people we usually hire. I just want to know more about you.”

“Different how?”, Steve asks.

“I don’t know. You just seem to genuinely care.”

“If the people around you don’t genuinely care then you need to hire some new people.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to find in this industry.” You reach in your purse and raise a flask in their direction as you pour a bit into your coffee.

“Is that why you do things like that?”, Eddie gestures towards you drink.

“No, baby. I do things like this to keep me from going insane.”

“How about you do the healthy thing and stand up for yourself?”

You angerly turn your attention to Steve. “I can stand up for myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you let your manager, boyfriend, and entourage talk down to you the way they do?”

“Go fuck yourself, alright?! Look, I can stick up for myself and say what’s on my mind. For example, you two are complete fucking assholes.”, you growl. “I’m done eating. I want to go home.”

Eddie smirks as the other boy sighs. “Such a whiney, spoiled brat. I swear.” The metalhead pulls out his wallet, throwing money on the table as they both get to their feet. “Your highness.”, he gestures towards the front door.

“I’m not whiney or spoiled. I worked hard to get here and I’m not going to let you or anyone talk to me like that.”

“Yet you do.”, Steve retorts as he opens the back door to his car. You roughly reach across, slamming it shut. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Apologize to me.”

“For what? Pointing out the obvious? Frankly, I don’t get why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and you have such a gorgeous voice yet you pump yourself with poison and let these people take advantage of you. Why?”

You exhale as you look towards the ground. “I can handle it.”

“You say that a lot.” Eddie folds his arms on top of the car as he leans onto his hands.

“Because I can.”

“By getting wasted?”

“My personal life is none of your fucking concern.”, you growl.

“You’re right.” Steve opens the back door again and this time you climb in. “You just seem like you deserve better.”

##########

“I swear, man, that girl is going to get us killed. Or put in prison after WE kill her.”, Eddie chuckles from his place on the sofa.

“I kind of like her.” The metalhead coyly raises his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, come on, like you don’t?”, Steve sighs as he leans back against the couch. “There’s something hidden under all that sass and alcohol…I saw it when she was singing. I’d love to get to know that part of her better.”

Eddie grinned as he reached for his phone, smile fading when he saw the ID.

“Hello. This is Eddie Munson.”

“E-Eddie? I, um, I think—FUCK YOU! —I need help.”

“You stupid bitch! Open this fucking door right fucking now!”

Eddie ross to his feet, tugging at Steve’s arm as he searched for his keys. “Where are you?”

“I-I’m in my bedroom. Simon and I got into a fight and-and he’s wasted. Pl-please…I’m scared. He’s never been this angry.”

Steve had already started the car, speeding towards your house. “Hey, it’s ok, sweetheart. We’re on the way, alright? Just stay on the phone with me, ok?”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you guys today. Fuck… you two seem s-so different. I-I just…”

“Y/N don’t even worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be alright. We’re almost there.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty! Think you can talk to me anyway you want to! Fuck you, you fucking slut! Open the door, Y/N!”

“Oh, sure! You fuck all the groupies and fans that show up to my concerts but I’m the fucking slut!”

“Y/N, stop engaging. Talk to me.” There’s a loud crash and a squeak from your side as the line cuts off. “Steve…hurry.”

Five minutes later, they are bursting through your front door, running towards your bedroom where they hear your boyfriend shouting. Steve tackles him to the floor subduing him with his knee in his back.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving. You’re lucky I don’t fucking shoot you, asshole.”

“Y/N?”, Eddie softly called your name as you continued to cower in the corner with your head tucked into your arms. “Princess, everything is ok. I’m going to touch your arm.” You jump when his fingers graze your skin but you allow him to guide you to your feet. “There we go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Can you look at me so I can check you out here?”

Your lips trembled as you faced him, his eyes slowly growing dark with fury as he scanned you over. Your face was red from your tears but he could also see where Simon had smacked your cheek. You had bruises that were starting to form on your arms where he must have grabbed you.

“I’ll call the police and EMS.”, he grumbled trying to contain his anger.

“No! No EMS. Please…I don’t need those pictures or attention.”

“But I do of me being pushed into a fucking cop car.”, Simon spat.

Steve grabbed his hair and hit his head into the carpet. “Shut. Up.” His eyes meet yours as he speaks in a much gentler tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, I have a first aid kit here and all that so I’m fine.”

***

The police came by and took Simon away after taking everyone’s statements. Eddie and Steve took care of almost everything which you immensely appreciated. After everyone left, you expected them to as well but as your front door closed, you found you weren’t the only one on the other side.

“I’m going to see if I can get your bedroom door back on its hinges.”, Eddie turned the corner to head down your hallway as Steve followed.

You tiptoe after them, watching them with bewilderment as the metalhead got to work and Steve began straightening up the things Simon had damaged.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” They both froze, straightening up to look at you. “Why…why are you so nice to me? I’m such a fucking bitch to you. According to you, I’m a bratty, spoiled, washed up singer. WHY are you doing this?!”, you gesture around the room.

They glanced at each other and after a few minutes it was Steve who finally spoke. “How should we be? Hm? Should we be like him? Do you think you deserve to be treated like this, Y/N?”

Their voices and demeanor completely changed in the moment; talking to you like a little girl who had just run into your parent’s room crying about a monster under her bed.

“Sweetheart, NO ONE deserve to be treated like this. You didn’t trigger this. What he just did…isn’t your fault. You did the right thing calling us here. Now what kind of protectors would we be if we left you here alone with your house like this?”

You broke, sobbing almost uncontrollably as your hands covered your face. Strong hands tenderly grabbed your biceps, pulling you into a chest as you wrapped your arms around his back. Another palm delicately petted your head and for the first time in your life, you had never felt safer.

Stepping back, you wipe your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie’s kind, worry filled orbs running over your face as Steve stood beside him doing the same.

“Can, um, can we worry about this tomorrow and you stay here with me tonight?”

“Yeah, we can stay here, honey. Do you have another room you can sleep in? I don’t think tomorrow morning you should open your eyes and this is the first thing you see.”

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall here.”

“Good because I agree with Steve. We can sleep on the couches out here and—”

“Can you sleep with me?”, you interrupt, your question startling both men. “I-I-I mean, you don’t have to. I just… I’m still a bit scared. I’m…forget about it.”

Eddie grabbed your hand as you started to walk away.

“We can do that for you. If that’s what you want.” You nod your head to his statement, watching him closely as his eyes shift from security Eddie to something you had never seen before in any man. Whatever it was it made you feel weak in the knees. His fingers reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you say it?”

“I-I want you two to sleep…in my bed…with me. Please.” That last word comes out almost in a whisper, pleading with them to stay.

Steve’s fingers softly caress your cheek before gliding under your chin, turning you to face him. He had that same look Eddie had, that air of confidence you remembered seeing when you first met them but more dominate.

“Good girl.”

543 notes · View notes

merrybloomwrites · 1 month

Text

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Getting High)

Summary: Y/N's never tried weed before, and has an interesting night trying it for the first time with the three people she loves and trusts the most.

AN: This is a story about people getting high, written by someone who's never been high. I did a fair amount of research, so I hope it's accurate enough to what people experience lol

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Word Count: 2.8K

CW: Mentions of smut & daddy kink; drug use

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s a perfect Friday morning. You’re sitting at the kitchen table of your LA home with Sarah, Mitch, and Harry. Sarah had surprised you all with a full English breakfast “just because” and you’re enjoying every delicious bite.

It’s so good that everyone is practically silent, no one wants to take a break from eating to say anything. You’re the first to get full so you decide to start up some conversation. There’s something you’ve been wanting to ask them but have been too shy to actually voice your question.

Deciding to finally go for it, you break the silence saying, “What’s it like to get high?”

Simultaneously, all three of them stop mid chew to stare at you, completely caught off guard by your question.

Harry composes himself first and after finishing his bite of food he says, “Well it depends on what drug you’ve taken.” You’re grateful for the way he responded, showing that they’ll take the conversation seriously and not as a joke.

It’s no secret that he and Mitch have done a couple different drugs in the past. It’s common knowledge that “She” was written by Mitch while he was under the influence of psychedelic drugs. And everyone’s heard the story of Harry biting off part of his tongue while high on mushrooms.

Harry has also mentioned having done coke once or twice, and that admittedly makes you a little nervous. You went through the DARE program growing up where you’d been taught that all drugs will ruin your life and kill you. So while you never judge others for occasionally getting a little high, it does make you somewhat nervous that something bad could happen when they do.

You voice your concerns to them, and they talk you through what drugs they’ve tried, what it was like, and how they ensure their safety while under the influence. By the end you’re feeling better about everything.

But you notice one thing they left out.

“And what about weed?” You ask.

“What about it?” Mitch asks.

“What are you guys like when you smoke it? Eat it? Whatever you all do with pot,” you clarify.

“The boys prefer to smoke,” Sarah answers, “And I don’t like smoking, so I’ll have some edibles if I want to participate.”

“We all get pretty mellow,” Mitch says to answer your question.

“You can be more mellow?” You inquire jokingly, referring to his generally calm demeanor.

“He just sits there all smiley,” Harry says.

Sarah laughs and adds, “Yea, until he starts getting extra horny.”

You blush thinking about what that must be like and then ask, “What about you two? What are you guys like?”

“Sarah gets very giggly. And chatty,” Mitch answers. “And Harry gets the munchies.”

“Seriously?” You ask. Harry, the person in this relationship who is most regimented about what he eats and rarely ever snacks, gets the munchies?

“Oh, for sure,” Harry answers. “All bets are off when I’m high. Calories don’t count,” he finishes with a shrug.

“I wonder what I’d be like,” you say quietly.

“Y/N, do you want to try it? We’d all be with you, make sure nothing happens,” Sarah says.

You sit silently for a moment, debating what to say. This was another goal of yours for this conversation. You want to try getting high, especially with the three of them, who you trust more than anyone. You had been offered weed at a couple parties before, and always turned it down, nervous that something could go wrong. But here? With Sarah, and Mitch, and Harry? Well, that sounds like it could actually be fun.

You nod and say, “Yea, I kind of do want to try.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “We can make that happen.”

After that, the conversation turns to other topics as you finish eating and cleaning up breakfast. Harry spends a good chunk of the day writing. Mitch helps him but heads to the grocery store in the afternoon. Meanwhile, you and Sarah work in the garden, getting it ready to put in some new plants.

Happy with your progress for the day, you head inside to take a shower. When you’re done and dressed you walk down to the living room where Sarah, also freshly showered, and Harry and sitting together on the couch. You join them, sitting beside Harry. He talks a bit about what he worked on so far and then you finally hear the door opening, alerting you all that Mitch has returned from the store.

All three of you join him in the kitchen, helping to put the groceries away. You get to one bag that looks different from the others, like it came from a different store, but it still just seems to contain some different snacks, namely chocolates and some gummy candies. You get a closer look and notice the little leaf symbol on all of the packages.

“Uhm, Mitch? What is this?” You know what it is, or at least, you’re mostly sure, but it feels like a good idea to actually confirm.

He looks over to see what you’re holding and smirks before saying, “Well that would be weed. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab some after our talk this morning.”

“Can we try it?”

“Sure,” he replies.

“Tonight?” You ask.

“Are you sure?” Sarah confirms.

“I mean, it seems like a good time. We have a free weekend, which never happens. And I don’t want to overthink it more than I already have.”

“Ok,” Harry responds. “After dinner if you still want to then these will be our dessert,” he says, taking the bag of goodies from you and putting it in a cabinet, far away from the rest of the snacks.

“Sorry it’s only edibles,” Mitch says to Harry. “Sarah doesn’t smoke, and I didn’t think Y/N would either. And you don’t like smoking alone so, yea.”

“Are you not joining us?” Sarah asks.

“Not this time, I want to stay sober just in case.”

“Look at you, going into daddy mode,” Harry jokes.

There’s a flicker in Mitch’s eyes at that, something you’ve never seen before. “Haven’t heard that nickname in a long time,” Mitch says.

“You haven’t earned it,” Harry replies, tone definitely cheeky, and a little suggestive. You tuck the encounter away in your mind, making a note to ask them about whatever that just was at another time.

Now that everything seems to be decided, you turn to start making dinner. With the prospect of a new experience on the horizon you need to do something that’s familiar to you. Sarah helps you cook, and the boys clean up after.

Once everyone is in comfy clothes you meet up back in the living room. Mitch is holding the chocolate bar and gives you a look before asking, “Still want to try this?”

“I do,” you reply. You’re excited, even if you’re slightly nervous about how you might act or if you might say something stupid while under the influence.

“Alright,” he replies.

Mitch opens the package, breaking off three pieces and handing one to each of you. He then passes the rest to Harry, saying, “You might want one more in a bit. It’s a pretty low dose.”

You pop the chocolate in your mouth, a thrill going through you at doing something you’ve always been told was dangerous. It’s silly to feel this way, knowing now that the likelihood of this having any type of negative outcome is extremely slim, but it still feels almost reckless in an exciting way.

Nothing happens for a bit, but you expected that. Harry ends up taking one more piece, and you wonder if you should as well. Before you can even ask, Mitch says, “No more for you, give it time.”

Sarah adds, “It’ll kick in soon, trust me.”

And she isn’t wrong. You don’t notice it happening, but eventually you feel different. Your body feels kind of tingly, and you’re smiling but you don’t really know why.

The next thing you know, you and Sarah are discussing the garden at length. The area you have set aside is totally not big enough. You need way more space so you can grow veggies and berries and like, three orange trees so you can make your own orange juice every morning. Harry gets up no less than five times to retrieve snacks from the kitchen and you discover you’re actually starving, which is weird because wasn’t dinner an hour ago? You’re never hungry so soon after a meal.

Some more time apparently passes, and you and Sarah are now laughing at a story Harry’s telling about his craziest fan encounter.

Suddenly you remember a comment from earlier and turn to Mitch. He’s sitting next to you on the couch, completely entertained by the antics of the three of you and doesn’t miss when your attention focuses on him.

When you don’t say anything for over a minute he gives you a confused look and says, “Can I help you?”

“Why did Harry call you daddy earlier?” You ask.

At this question both Mitch and Harry blush. BLUSH. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that before.

Mitch looks at your doe eyed, innocent expression and thinks for a minute how he’s going to explain this to you. He sometimes forgets that all your sexual experience has been with him, and there’s a lot you’re unfamiliar with. Sure, the fact that you have sex with three people at once might seem adventurous, but the sex you all have tends to be mostly very vanilla. Mitch watches your inquisitive expression as he figures out the best way to explain daddy kinks and dom/sub dynamics to you.

He decides to start by asking you, “Have you heard of daddy kinks before?”

Your eyes go wide as you realize that this is going down a sexual route. Sarah starts giggling next to you at your reaction and you pout before saying, “Don’t laugh at me, you know I was sheltered!”

“I don’t mean to, you’re just so adorable when you're all shocked and naive,” she replies.

Sarah then shifts on the couch so she’s laying sideways, her back against the armrest. She pulls you to her, so your back is against her chest. Mitch slides closer and Harry takes the seat next to him. You and Sarah both stretch out your legs over Mitch’s lap until your feet rest on Harry. You feel all warm inside, getting to be in contact with all three of them.

“Sorry for laughing,” Sarah says quietly in your ear. “You know how much we love teaching you new things.” You shutter involuntarily at her suggestive tone. She wraps her arms around your middle as Mitch says, “You never answered my question.”

“There was a question?” You say and start giggling. You search your fuzzy brain, trying to remember what he asked you, then trying to remember what you guys were even talking about.

“I asked you if you knew what a Daddy kink is,” he says, watching you closely in case you had another entertaining reaction.

This time your face goes serious, and Mitch can literally see the wheels turning in your mind as you come up with an answer.

After a literal minute of thinking you reply with a decisive, “No.”

“Okay. So, a common misconception is that someone with a daddy kink has daddy issues. And that could be the case for some people but that’s not really what it is. It’s about power dynamics. Like one person gives over control to the other person. And the one with control would be considered daddy.”

“Mitch, that was a fucking terrible explanation,” Harry says. “Y/N, did that make sense to you?”

“Not really, no.”

Sarah decides to take over and says, “Do you remember the night after one of the Wembley shows when we teased you on the ride home?” You immediately remember what she’s talking about and a shutter of pleasure runs through your body at the memory. “And when we got back to the room we edged you even more and wouldn’t let you come? And then made you come multiple times until you passed out?”

“Holy shit,” Harry says. “Why have I never asked about things you did before I joined? Fuck, that sounds hot.”

You blush at the memory and Sarah continues, saying, “That night, Mitch and I had the power. We were in control of your pleasure. You trusted us to take care of you. That’s what a dom/sub dynamic is about. And there’s different titles that doms go by, like sir and ma’am or daddy and mommy. Depends on personal preference.”

“And Mitch prefers daddy?” You ask. He huffs out a laugh and looks visibly flustered at this question, so you say, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Oh, he for sure prefers daddy,” Harry adds. “The first time I let it slip out, he came instantaneously.” Your body starts to heat up and you squirm in Sarah’s lap as Harry continues, “I’d asked him to restrain me and just take what he wanted. He went full daddy mode and didn’t even realize. One of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.”

You can’t sit still any longer, so you move, your limbs uncoordinated due to the drugs and lust clouding your mind, but you finally succeed in straddling Mitch’s lap.

“I wanna do that,” you say.

“Do what exactly?” Mitch presses.

“I dunno. Everything. Anything you guys want to do. I want to give up control,” you answer.

“Darling, I don’t think you’ve ever been in control in bed,” Sarah says with another giggle.

“Okay but like, I wanna do it legit. Please, daddy?” You say with puppy dog eyes looking right at Mitch.

He groans, and you think you’re getting your way, so you move to kiss him and grind down in his lap. His hands grip your waist and frustratingly, they stop your movements.

“Look at me, baby,” he says, and your eyes dart back to meet his. “We can try it, but not now.”

“Why not?” You whine.

“Because you’re high and can’t fully consent. We all have to be sober to do this the right way. And there’s a lot we need to talk about first. We need to discuss limits, safe words, things like that. Okay?”

“Fine. But I won’t forget this.”

“Trust me babe, neither will I,” he replies, nipping at your ear and you give him a dirty look for teasing you.

“Now, why don’t we watch a movie?” Mitch suggests.

“Emperor's New Groove!” You immediately shout.

“What’s that one about?” Harry asks.

“Seriously? You’ve never seen it?” He shakes his head no and you look at the other two who confirm they’d never watched it either.

“NONE of you have seen Emperor's New Groove? That’s a fucking travesty.” They all burst into laughter since you never curse but this seems to be high enough stakes to earn the explicit word.

“We are watching it. Right now.” You jump off the couch, stumbling across the room to grab the remote. You plop back into Sarah’s lap, legs outstretched over the boys, and concentrate on putting the movie on.

Before you press play you say, “I have one very important question.”

“And what would that be, love?” Harry asks.

“Are there more snacks?”

Without a word he gets up and makes a trip to the kitchen, bringing back an assortment of treats.

You grab some of the chocolates and start the movie.

You’re all a giggling mess watching the movie, and you’re starting to get very sleepy by the time it’s over. Mitch has his work cut out for him, rounding the three of you up and helping you all get ready for bed. You cooperate with brushing your teeth and washing your face, but refuse to put pants on, arguing that it’s too warm and all you want is one of Harry’s t-shirts. You also refuse to walk from the bathroom to the bedroom, and Mitch steps in before Sarah can try picking you up while she’s still unsteady herself.

You’re basically dead weight in Mitch’s arms, and you laugh uncontrollably when he gently throws you onto the mattress. The night ends with all four of you together in bed, exchanging “I love you” back and forth repeatedly.

You fall asleep on top of Mitch, and he thinks back to how the evening went. He can’t help but smile at the fact that high Y/N is basically a combination of the other three when high. You laugh and talk uncontrollably like Sarah, snack like Harry, and get a bit more horny than usual like Mitch.

And he certainly won’t forget the conversation you’d had any time soon. He hopes the rest of you won’t either. As he strokes your hair and looks fondly at Sarah and Harry sleeping at his sides, he feels like today was a perfect day. And he can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! Requests are open so if you want to see anything specific, let me know!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

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blackdragoness · 6 months

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PICK-A-CARD READING

IF YOU WERE A DRUG, WHAT DRUG WOULD YOU BE?

WHY DO PEOPLE BECOME “ADDICTED” TO YOUR ENERGY?

Do you give off ALCOHOLIC vibes, CRACKHEAD energy, OR STONER vibes?

**THIS IS PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT** I am not calling any of you addicts. Its just a game to have fun so just enjoy it for what it is: ENTERTAINMENT. I am not a professional and the advice given is based off my own personal experience with these addictions. I share what helped me free myself from these vices but I strongly recommend speaking with a professional that can help you better. Without further ado....

LESSSKOOOO

PICK A CARD:

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PILE 1: ACE OF HEARTS

If you chose pile 1, the vice that best describes your personality is:

***STONER***

**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you smoke alot of pot, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I dont care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but at the same time, it’s your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****

Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:

Laid-back, chill AF – almost too laid back it can sometimes be mistaken for laziness – but at the same time, a lot of you reading this probably are lazy and already know that. Its not a roast, I’m just affirming what you already know LOL. Big couch potato energy. Very laxed. As contradictory as it sounds, this is actually why people become addicted to your energy. There isn’t a lot of people who have the chill factor that you have and being around you is like a break from the hustle and bustle of life.

The cool kid – the IT Boy/Girl. Everything you do is effortless

Iconic – does your own thing & known for not following the crowd

You guys have a mind of your own!

Unbothered – it is very hard to ruffle your feathers or get a reaction out of you. It is both an admirable and irritable trait depending on who you’re talking to. If not, you may just react to things very slowly and may find yourself hot and bothered after the fact

Very easy going and easy to talk to – you can chop it up with almost all personalities because you are very relatable and relaxed.

CLASS CLOWN VIBES - you may not take things too seriously and can find humor in anything! You say some funny shit man, and you aren’t even trying to be funny.

EFFORTLESS COMEDIAN.

Very witty and intelligent

You can hold a conversation with a variety of people. Whether its small talk or deep intellectual conversations.

People remember you for the conversations that they have with you and the energy that you bring to the conversation. You may not even realize the effect your words or energy have on people but it lingers on their mind and energy long after you have gone away. All a person needs is one “hit” of your energy.

Might be apart of the “woke” culture or many people would describe you as being “woke”

May be labeled an overthinker, borderline paranoid but also a very critical thinker. You may think about things that most people don’t think about. It may shock others how much you know about a variety of topics

Very grounded and rooted in whatever it is that you do.

Natural beauties and very natural bodies.

“LOVE CHILD”

Hippy vibes

You have a reputation for always being in a good mood and always being happy for no reason. Its very rare that you are in a bad mood. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have those days. You just know how to guard your emotions and only let a small number of trusted people see your vulnerable side.

Y’all are A VIBE. Periodt. Point. Blank.

You can vibe with a crowd AND you can vibe all on your own. You could be both introverted and extroverted depending on your mood. Sometimes you might be in a corner on your own doing your own thing, other times you’re mingling with a variety of different people. Just depends on your mood.

You probably have lots of conversations with your self all the time. People might think you’re a little weird for that but you might find it funny

Very unique and one of a kind

You might have your own distinct smell. Maybe you have a certain perfume/cologne that you use all the time that people know you for. OR maybe you just stink and smell like body odor. It can be either one of those two extremes LOL (Smokers LOVE the smell of weed, nonsmokers tend to strongly DESPISE the smell of weed so it goes both ways. Don’t shoot the messenger HAHA)

May have a love for music or be very musically inclined

Lyricist, journalist, writer/author - may be very good at articulating your thoughts and emotions but you may mumble or speak softly.

Every moment with you is a HIGH moment – by “high”, I mean when people see you, even if the interaction is short, its most often the HIGHlight of peoples day.

Everyones BUDdy

Wall FLOWER vibes

May be looked at as slightly ditzy

ADVICE:

Tap into your creativity more. This pile has the creative abilities, if improved and mastered, can be monetized on greatly.

Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and to stand out.

If you struggle with overthinking, it means you aren’t taking enough action. Start moving and putting your amazing thoughts into action so you can manifest the life you dream about all the time. Mistakes are inevitable and part of the growing process so don’t be afraid to make mistakes or make a fool out of yourself. That’s how you learn. The longer you sit on your ideas, the easier it is for doubtful thoughts to creep in which in turn will stop you from taking any type of action. It is time to take action and slow down the voices in your head telling you that you aren’t enough.

Believe in yourself more and learn to love yourself for all your flaws. Your biggest critic and your biggest competition should always be yourself so build yourself up more. Quit the negative self talk. Critique yourself towards improvement but not to the point of giving up. You’re more than you give yourself credit for.

Be more comfortable speaking your mind in the moment instead of bottling everything up all the time. You only end up beating yourself up in the end and it slows down your progress.

If you are addicted to the drug, my advice is to take a break from it for a bit so you can start being active again in your own life. You don't have to quit cold turkey. Take it one day at a time but the wheels will start moving for you soon as you make that change. Too much of anything, even if it's good for you, can eventually start to work against you. But it's your life. If you can find that balance while still keeping it in your life, more power to ya! 😊

CHANNELED SONG:

MOVING ABOUT MY WAYS by Josh Wawa White

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PILE 2: ACE OF CLUBS

If you chose pile 2, the vice that best describes your personality is:

***ALCOHOLIC***

**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you drink a lot of alcohol, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I don’t care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but at the same time, it’s your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****

Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:

BIG GOOFBALL ENERGYYYY

Very energetic and MAFANA (pronounced “mah-fah-nah” meaning “heated” in the Tongan language). You might always be MAFANA and ready to do anything at any moment. Also you might literally be MAFANA in body temperature. Might have a warmer body temperature or may always be hot even in colder temperatures. May enjoy very hot showers as well.

Extremely physically attractive. Sexy and sultry type of aesthetic

Very seductive mannerisms and voice

Very spontaneous and slightly chaotic

You might speak in slang a lot – doesn’t matter the slang, but you have your own way of speaking

People would probably describe you as being very bold and confident. You aren’t afraid to say what’s on your mind and you don’t care who hears.

True to yourself

Very genuine and authentic in all your interactions

You’re probably sociable and outgoing

Extremely outgoing – very rarely are you ever alone. You always have a crowd of people surrounding you or with you.

You have your own unique sense of style and fashion taste. People know and recognize you for your fashion sense. It’s just very……YOU.

Brutally honest but honest nonetheless – people may avoid you because of how honest you can be. But people know when they really need an honest opinion, you are the first person to come to mind.

People may describe you as having multiple personalities. It can be both a good thing or a bad thing depending on who you are talking to. One things for sure, getting to know you is NEVER a bore.

Never a dull moment when you are around

LIFE OF THE PARTY

You are the person everyone hopes to see at an event or a party because they know it will be a fun time if you are around.

Very confident – ALPHA vibes – BOSS energy

You may be everyone’s “go-to” person when they need to vent or get things off their chest. Interacting with you is like a glass of wine at the end of a really rough day. If it was a really tough day, you’re more like 3 shots of Henney instead of wine, lets be honest.

You have a “numbing” effect on people – interacting with you is like nothing else matters but the present moment. You’re a very rare type of person

You are the person to impress! Every room you walk into and every person you interact with, you are the center of attention & people will do anything to get your attention praise, & validation.

Not only are you the person to impress, you are also a very impressive person. You impress through your looks, your skills, your intellect, etc – ALL AROUND impressive

You are very expressive, blunt, and outspoken. You say whatever is at the top of your mind and react to everything based off of your emotions in the moment.

May at times be very moody

Night owls

Kareoke King/Queen

Shameless

No one ever knows what to expect with you. You keep everyone on their toes

Maybe a bit clumsy and silly but thats why people love your energy. Its giving "overgrown child" vibes and its refreshing.

You help heal alot of peoples inner child just by being yourself. You bring that young vibe to any occasion.

ADVICE:

Take more time for yourself and away from the noise and the audience. I sense that you don’t enjoy being alone because that is when the dark thoughts creep in. Maybe you dislike feeling lonely. Get more comfortable with being on your own and in your own energy. Sort out those dark thoughts. Try to figure out where the darkness originated from and learn to heal it. It will improve your social interactions greatly.

Learn to enjoy silence. A lot of positive ideas, peace, and self discovery can be found in the silence.

Your greatest strength is your outspokenness. However, by remaining silent, you can avoid a lot of regret for yourself. You can also learn a lot about others simply by listening and remaining silent. Stay outspoken, but add silence into your personality every now and then to bring more balance to your character

SLOW DOWN - in all areas! Speak slower, walk slower, think slower, react slower, develop relationships slower, etc. You may start many things very quickly and burn out just as fast. Learn to pace yourself and develop your mental/physical stamina

If you are addicted to the alcohol, my advice would be to find a healthier hobby to substitute that vice. Exercise helps with regulating your emotions as well as a healthy eating plan. Get more sleep and start journaling. Having an outlet to really pour out your emotions will keep you from pouring another cup. Take it one day at a time, but the wheels will start rolling for you once you make that change. But it's your life, do as you please! If you can find that balance in your life, more power to ya!

CHANNELED SONGS: ALCOHOLIC by COMMON KINGS

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PILE 3: ACE OF DIAMONDS

If you chose pile 1, the vice that best describes your personality is:

***CRACKHEAD***

**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you’re a meth/coke head, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I dont care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but its your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****

Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:

The most energetic of all the piles

CEO/Supervisor energy

Very focused and determined to accomplish anything you set your mind to. You are willing to start things over as many times as you need until you get it right.

You may have an addictive personality but also others may find your personality very addicting as well. Once someone has tasted your energy, its very hard to shake you.

People may become very obsessed with you. You circle peoples minds multiple times a day. They just cant figure you out. You may also be very obsessive and possessive yourself.

FOCUSED. FOCUSED. FOCUSED, Extremely focused individuals. Your focus is probably your most admirable trait.

As focused as you are, you are also probably a very great multitasker

Entrepreneurs or entrepreneurs in the making. You may be very business minded

You are usually always 10 steps ahead of the game. You see all sides and make very calculated moves based off of your observations.

Very observant individuals. You probably notice and remember the tiniest details about people and you know how to make people feel really special in every interaction with you. People don’t expect you to remember certain things they’ve mentioned or worn, but when you bring it up to them long after the fact, you really make people feel SEEN & HEARD. This makes you more trustworthy in their eyes.

May be accused of being narcissistic but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You may have been a victim to narcissistic abuse in the past so you’ve learned the ins and outs of all the mind games being played. So when someone uses a mind game on you, you flip it back on them and then they have the audacity to call YOU the narcissist. It has become your tool for self defense but also agitates those on the receiving end of your narcissism. To put it into perspective, most super heros and world leaders are narcissistic because they need to be. If not, they would get chewed up and spit out by the world and wouldn’t last a day in their position. If they wanna call you a narcissist because you refuse to adopt their mindset or their perspective, then so be it! Accept the title and keep it pushing. Remain true to yourself.

Very self-reliant and reliable. You conquer every task and assignment thrown at you and you do an amazing job at it in a very time efficient manner. People may try to discredit you or say you couldn’t have done it all by yourself but the proof is in the pudding darling. In reality, these folks are just projecting their own insecurities on to you because we all know, if they were in your position, there is no way they could have done that on their own. No one can deny your workmanship because you prove it time and time again.

Lone wolf vibes. You may not have many friends or you may not be open to inviting new people into your circle. “NO NEW FRIENDS” vibes

You probably have a sturdy set of friends and you’ve known them for a long time.

Very secretive and private. You may enjoy your privacy and may tend to keep a lot of your life hidden from the public eye.

Very protective of your energy and your space.

May have a lot of people who constantly have an opinion on your life. You do a great job at blocking them and their noise out of the way and continuing to push along.

STRONG STAMINA – yall can last for a lonnnngggg time (however you interpret that LOL)

Great debater – if someone wants to come at you sideways, they better come prepared with their arguments because going against you isn’t easy. You know yourself, you know your facts and you know what happened. Barely nothing gets past you.

Out of all the piles, this pile has the most haters. I don’t know why and neither do you. You must be someone of significance to have this many haters. You represent PRESSURE and people feel that energy as soon as you walk into the room. This is a compliment for you but a threat to your haters. No one wants to feel pressured to improve. You don’t try to apply pressure. You just ARE pressure.

You cant be tamed. Very hard to lock down and hard to pin down.

Unbeatable

Invincible

Immunity

Misjudged and misunderstood but never stops remaining true to yourself. Let the haters do their thing but keep doing you booboo.

Diamond in the rough

Might wear a lot of jewelry or you should wear more jewelry but this is something people notice about you. Maybe you have tons of jewelry or you have a piece of jewelry that people remember you for. If not, I suggest wearing more jewelry because it looks great on you.

ADVICE

Learn to handle the pressure that comes your way. You attract what you put out there and unfortunately, this is one of those things that is out of your control. People feel pressured when you are around therefore, you may feel as though pressure is constantly being applied to you. Don’t sweat it. These experiences are to show you how strong your character truly is but you must remain true to who you are if you want it to work in your favor.

Its okay to be more open and available to others. You can still maintain your strong boundaries but you don’t have to shut the entire world out. Remain open!

Keeping an open mind may also be helpful for you. Not everything will play out the way you envisioned it in your brain so keep an open mind so you can solve your problems as they arise.

Take some time to relax. You give off very strong workaholic vibes and sometimes you can overwork yourself to exhaustion. Give your body the rest it needs through sleep. Remember to eat throughout the day and fill your body up with the nutrients it needs to keep you going and alert for your various tasks. Go outside and enjoy the outdoors. Take time to care for yourself.

Learn to lighten up a little. Your laser focus can sometimes make you too serious to be around. Laugh a little. Smile more. Let loose. Enjoy the life in front of you. Balance out your work and play and you’ll find your life is more enjoyable that way.

If you are addicted to the drug, my advice would be to invest in yourself more. You won't have the money to spend on drugs if you throw your money into something that will benefit you more in the long run. Take a class to build on a skill you already have, sign up for a committee, give yourself responsibility and bring purpose back into your life. But start small. Learn to depend on yourself and hold yourself up before trying to overextend yourself for others. Too much responsibility is probably what got you to this point or maybe it was the lack thereof. Whatever the case be, you need to love on yourself more & know that you are more than enough. The wheels will start moving for you once you make that change and the clarity that follows will bring you immense joy.

CHANNELED SONG: WINNAH WINNAH by RIA ft SPAWNBREEZIE

youtube

#astro community #art #astro notes #astrology #intuitive readings #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot community #zodiac

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linisiane · 1 year

Text

I’ve seen that post on here that’s like “What did they put in this game to make us all Like That,” and I think we’re all Like That about Disco Elysium bc we’re all hyperfixating on it because it surprisingly speaks to the chaos of living with ADHD. And we SEE that and feel seen.

- First of all, Harry Du Bois Adhd headcanons pop off hard, especially with the whole “I do speed to do detective work,” aka I need stimulants to focus, aka unintentional self-medication. Also the poor impulse control, emotional disregulation. And the voices remind me of the way my brain jumps topic to topic so I have like 4 ongoing topics going at once. Stereo investigations, thoughts in the thought cabinet, if you will.

- Additionally, a lot of interactions surrounding Harry’s memory loss even feel very ADHD. ADHD is a problem with working memory (attention/focus), which cascades into causing problems with encoding memories for long term storage. You can’t remember what you never even focused on. Because of this, being forgetful of things that seemed basic or obvious or easy to remember for other people is a staple problem for people with ADHD, and while the game is obviously much more extreme with total retrograde amnesia, I find that the game’s demonstration of “the people being frustrated or confused by basic things you’ve forgotten or misplaced” (and this being taken seriously as a Big Issue affecting your life, even if the others don’t take it seriously/brush it off) is very relatable and almost cathartic. Even if the only reason why it’s taken so seriously in the game is because you’ve just literally lost all your memory… and your gun lol

- Harry doing buck wild things to get results based on the conversations going on inside his head, which don’t get read to the outside world, is very relatable. Again, my brain jumps topic to topic so much that it’s almost hard to track the logical thread connecting the thoughts internally, much less explain them to another person at the same time. The “how did we get here, what exactly brought you to this course of action? This seems unrelated, detective” is very much a conversation I experience on the daily, whether with myself or the people around me.

- Kim Kitsuragi is the ADHD fantasy. @snowberry-pie’s got in one. He’s perfect for fighting off that executive dysfunction by helping you actually get shit done while not being suffocating/controlling/shaming about it. He sorta takes responsibility of you to help you take responsibility of yourself. He’s a body double, your partner in it with you. Lets you go on your barely related stereo investigations and indulges your inexplicable actions instead of controlling you, trusting that it’s part of the process lol. Offers positive reinforcement instead of using shame (like calling Harry a burden) to get Harry to focus on the case.

Disco Elysium has lots to say about how disability is exacerbated/unsupported by the system for a lot of characters, including Harry. Adhd fits right into that, especially with the ways an ADHD!Harry interpretation would highlight the understandable nature of his drug addiction (not only was it a way to cope with chronic pain that no one was treating him for, but also a way to cope with unmedicated ADHD).

Anyways I wrote this instead of writing my paper.

#my thoughts #adhd #harry du bois #harrier du bois #disco elysium #de #“Perseveration” officer? How about we “persevere” in writing that paper?#Kim being like “you lost your memory? You still gotta do your job tho” is me to myself everyday. ಥ_ಥ #Shout out to the opening scene of eeaao for also capturing the experience of living with ADHD subtle-ly #meta #metas #kim kitsuragi #literary analysis

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munsster · 2 years

Text

that everything feeling

A/N: i love s3 and i love s3 steve in his s3 scoops ahoy shorts. so i like basically did a mini s3e7-8 rewrite??? but it’s not serious. and now there's this

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!GN!Reader

Summary: You (Henderson!Reader) despise Steve Harrington, but the end of the world (and your little brother's gang) has other plans for you. 2.6k words

Warnings: season 3 major spoilers (lol), canon-level gore, blood & vomit & drugs, kissing (ew right), fluff, cursing, drugged steve, more kissing & cursing

Steve is basically limp against you, and you have to laugh at how quickly the Russian amphetamines went right to his head and turned him into a walking slinky. Well, more stumbling than walking. You also have to laugh at the awful situation Dustin and his little shit friends left you with: dragging their half-concussed babysitter through the mall rapidly away from a troop of bodybuilder-types foaming at the mouth and hungry for blood.

Speak of the devil, two of the brick shithouses in question—each larger than both you and Steve combined—come barreling against foot traffic in your direction, though not quite at you, which is somewhat of a relief because there’s a chance to escape. Still, your heart is pounding deep in your ears—something that always sends you in a stupid direction. So with your fingers wrapped around Steve’s bright red neckerchief, chanting ‘please be unlocked, please be unlocked’, you yank the door to one of the mall’s storage closets wide open and tug him in after you.

“Woah,” he sighs, putting a hand on his sinking chest, and when you look at him, he’s marveling up at the ceiling, and you’re about to slap him across the face if he utters one more drug-induced adage. “Did I just die? Is this what the afterlife is like?” His eyes go wide as saucers when he turns to stare at you, suddenly bursting with giddy, schoolboy laughter.

You clap your hand over his mouth and guide him deeper into the pitch-black room at the sound of muffled shouting beyond the reinforced plywood door. He trips over a fallen broom, knocking himself off balance enough to instinctively anchor to your waist and slump back against a wall of stocked shelves. And he has the audacity to ‘ouch’ when an empty spray bottle bounces against his skull to the floor.

As much as you’re against Steve Harrington, you do have to give the bastard credit; he has a very natural charm about him that you can’t stay mad at for very long. Which is why you’re going easy on him today: not ribbing him for his reckless abandon and motherly love for the kids. He clearly cares, or else he would’ve let someone else take the hit. I mean, he’s got those gorgeous, brown eyes, all honey in the sun and starry. He hums against your hand and shuts them. But in a frog way, one after the other. And you’re almost relieved. A moment of silence, at last.

“Did you just lick me?”

You flick your hand away and wipe it down his shoulder with a killer glare, and he’s back to laughing his stoned ass off. But your fed up meter is boiling over, and those pairs of boots thudded along a while ago, so you slip your fingers between his and pull him along into the now unlit foodcourt, checking behind you every couple of steps to make sure he’s not facedown on the linoleum. That would be seriously inconsiderate seeing as he’s caked in blood, and it would suck to have to wipe that up on minimum wage.

“Um…” he huffs, tightening his iron grip on your hand and halting to a wavering stop next to the centerpiece fountain. He looks seasick and pale and moist, and you don’t need to hear him to know that when he says, “I’m gonna yak,” he’s being dead serious.

“Oh my God, Steve, you’ve gotta be kidding me”—you’re suddenly panicked when he tugs at the collar of his uniform with his brows drawn taut together—“okay, okay, where are the bathrooms, they’re—holy shit, across the mall. Nevermind—”

“Sink,” he grumbles, finding his shaky footing a few steps ahead of you, hand in clammy hand.

“What?”

“How ‘bout a sink?” He presses on, and you’re compelled to let him drag you around tables and chairs because he feels so sure and set, and you’re not one to deny a bleeding, more-than-slightly intoxicated man. You bare your teeth in a fake, almost worried grin.

“Steve, you’re drugged, where the fuck are we supposed to find a sink”—and in that second, you look up at the flickering LED sign—“Scoops.” From which epiphany, you take the lead, pushing him at the hips around the counter, through the swinging door, straight towards the deep, aluminum sink that he dunks his head into and proceeds to violently spew into.

You take to fiddling around the room, including but not limited to: dragging your finger across the dusty, steel table, opening and closing the service window, and reaching for the top of one of the shelves only for two ice cream scoops to clatter to the floor and scare you shitless.

“Nice,” Steve chuckles, running the faucet and wiping his cupped palm down his chin. He reaches forward and flicks three light switches, illuminating the baby blue room and the storefront with a warm and buzzing fluorescence. You gasp when he spins on his heel.

“You’ve got blood all over you,” you say. Because you knew he got jostled around pretty bad back there, but you didn’t think it would stain his shirt or earn him an insane shiner.

He looks down and shrugs. “Hey, handsome’s gotta do what handsome’s gotta do, okay?”

You roll your eyes and back up through the door to the front and nod him along before ducking down to locate the first aid kit and set it next to the register. “Come here,” you coo, “in the light.”

“Woah, bossy… okay,” he says, following you and bumping his hip against the counter and watching you flip the case open, digging around with both hands. He smiles sweetly when you stick the tip of your tongue out while taking out stacks of paper-sealed supplies, frantically scanning labels and directions.

“Okay,” you huff. You tear a small, white square open between your teeth and unfold the antiseptic wipe seated inside it. In one hand, you hold Steve’s jaw, tugging him closer while the other carefully cleans the blood spattered around his bruised eye. He hisses and latches one hand into the side of your shirt.

In tandem, you both “Sorry!”, and chuckle a little, and he’s still holding your waist, but you’re still holding him and tilting his face toward the light. You open a new parcel and dab the wipe at the cut below his lip. He squints his eyes shut, grunting and shifting his weight slowly.

“D’you want a bandaid for that?”

He shakes his head.

“Just gonna tough it out?”

A blossoming yet stubborn smirk gives him that signature shithead appeal, and you guess it’s conditional when he says, “They don’t call me ‘the king’ for nothing.”

“Nobody calls you that anymore.” You let go of him and shove the leftover wipes and bandaids into your pockets.

“Yes, they do.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“They so do.”

“Okay, name one person who calls you that.”

He scoffs. “Your brother.”

“Half brother.”

“Whatever,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “he thinks I’m cool.”

“For your sake, I really hope Dustin respects himself a little more than that.” You crouch down to slide the kit back onto its shelf before popping up and smiling in Steve’s face. And he clenches his jaw, trying not to glance at your lips for too long.

“Wait,” he thinks out loud, “half? Same dad?” And c’mon, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, same mom. And it means you suck, Harrington, and my brother is definitely cooler than you,” you say, eyes suddenly wide and pleading, “don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh, I’m gonna tell him.”

“Steve, don’t.” You poke his shoulder, and he tosses his head back to laugh. You look so serious, it makes his stomach hurt a little, but he’s glad he can still make you laugh when you look down for a second to hide a smile.

“Fine, fine, I won’t.” He shrugs, and you groan.

“Liar.” You turn to walk away, but before you can even move, your foot slips on the wipe, which would’ve sent you flying backward with a split skull if Steve hadn’t caught you and pulled you hard against his chest.

“Woah, don’t go falling for me now,” he teases. And despite how lighthearted he tries to sound, you can hear the deepset worry in his throat making his voice thick and breathy. “At least let me get changed, yunno, all that blood—”

“Shut up.”

He’s a little confused when he looks at you and you’re clearly not poking for fun. You’re straight-faced, and his stomach churns so delightfully when you curl your fingers into his shoulder. You don’t know if whatever this is is mutual when his eyes go a little glossy and his cheeks blush pink and warm. Your heart is wild and deafening and you think this feeling is nice. Like it could stay this way, and you wouldn’t even question it.

Because in reality, it’s already like this most of the time. Tip-toeing around and teasing each other like you’re some kind of forbidden fruit. Like it wouldn’t be fair to have each other. To care about each other even though you might as well. You might as well when you keep glancing down at his mouth shamelessly. When he brings his hands closer together around your back, there’s nothing louder than your blood like water in your ears.

You don’t even hear yourself whisper, “please,” but Steve sure as hell does.

He nods, feeling the curve of your spine, mapping you out because even though he can’t work a compass, he’s pretty sure you’re his true north. It’s not a hallucination when he leans closer or when you move your fingers so gently up the back of his head.

“Holy shit, there you are!” Dustin hollers, and you let out a heavy breath and draw yourself quickly away from Steve who shuts his eyes and pushes a hand through his hair. You hop over and scoop your brother into your arms. He groans, still patting your back reluctantly and saying, “We gotta go.”

…

Why you’re standing at the top of a hill watching these actual children babble into walkie-talkies is beyond your comprehension. You’re pretty sure even Steve gets it at this point. Though, he does call you over after spending a couple minutes listening to your brother and his staticky lady friend. Which is exactly why you agree and follow him blindly.

“I just need a little help pushing it out of the mud,” he sighs, gesturing over to the Cadillac slowly sinking into the grassy sloped meadow.

“‘Kay.”

He slumps into the driver’s side and pats the seat next to him, urging you to open the door with a sigh and slip into passenger. Turning the key, the car chokes a little before starting up, and Steve reaches across for the back of your seat, putting the car in reverse, and hiding a smile in his shoulder when it easily glides backward a few feet down the hill.

“Well… that was easy,” he mumbles. Your jaw ticks, and you look at him with a stupidly cheeky and incredibly feigned smile. Getting out of the car, you groan up the hill, and Steve fumbles for the door handle after shutting the car off.

“Wait,” he calls, and when you try to ignore him, “Wait!”

“What do you want, Harrington?”

His confidence falters a little with a dent in the soft earth, and you keep walking as if he’s not crazy about you. As if you don’t know and feel the exact same. But you’re sure nobody’s ever been crazy about you before, and this is Steve Harrington you’re dealing with. And then he’s shouting after you.

“Kiss me.”

Even your lungs go silent at that. You pause only for a step, recovering when you hear him get close and shuffle in the grass. What you don’t expect is him jogging far enough to wrap his hand around your wrist and stop you short of the shining horizon of Hawkins.

You turn, and Steve looks insane. Hair mussed, chin split, and eye swelled, but you bite the inside of your cheek because under it all, he’s handsome. More than a young adult boy should be, and when he says, “kiss me,” again, you believe it. He’s charismatic and thoughtful and he loves your brother almost as much as you do, and you wonder what stopped you all these years. Maybe it was impending doom, and now that it’s closer than before, maybe you’re feeling manic.

But maybe that’s okay.

“You’re high,” you whisper, “you don’t know what you want.”

“Come on, don’t do that. You were there when I puked up just about everything, right?” He wants to admit that right now, there’s nothing in his system but you and your smile. You’re in him like a sugar high; he can’t pinpoint the cause, and he knows he’d do it again. No matter how much you’d tease him for being cheesy, he’s serious. And with him looking into you like this, you feel insane. His brown eyes give you the stars and the everything above.

“I know what I want,” he says, squeezing your hand and guiding you closer. This is definitely not spur of the moment, unless this moment has lasted three years. He wants you close. Closer, even, than this, with you hovering like body heat though the night is cold and makes him rethink. But every time he does, he feels the same. “And I think you do, too.”

You reach up to cup the side of his neck, rubbing your thumb along his throat and trying to ignore the way your eyes water and cloud your vision.

“Hey,” he whispers, tucking his knuckles under your chin and pecking your temple, finally gathering you in his arms and rubbing your back, leaving another kiss against the crown of your skull. You lift your head, and he chuckles at the smear of blood down the bridge of your nose.

“Oh,” you huff, smiling and wiping your sleeve across your face. But looking up at him makes you feel embarrassed. Batshit and bothered and shy. He looks at you like it’s you. Everything, always.

And you hook your arms around his shoulders and catch his mouth with yours, grinning and going back for another when he holds you tighter than before. Your teeth click a little, but you figure it out, and you feel light at the noises he makes. No more ache and hurt and strain, just his soft lips pressed to yours. Just his palms sliding up your back. Just his smile and yours.

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin shouts from the top of the hill, “I called it—Woo-hoo!” Steve snorts when Erica slaps a five into Dustin’s waiting palm. You look at Steve and even past that to the sky, the open air and its stars. He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth. You blink and grin before your eyes drift down to Hawkins. And Starcourt.

But your eyes go wide, and its not amazement when you mutter, “Holy shit.”

masterlist

#stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #fluff #steve fluff #stranger things fluff #st3 #st3 spoilers #steve harrington #steve #steve harrington x reader #henderson!reader #gn!reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #*

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isekaithatplease · 4 months

Note

You know what's even ironic,the fact that Kaufman is still in love with navier even though she's now pregnant with heinreys children. And the fact that kosair,naviers brother is a violent man that caused him to be outside the borders and how he even goes tok far as to feed rashta abortion drugs is so scummy. How the hell didn't navier even stop or at least call them out for their shit?

Because Navier doesn’t care. Slavery is a huge problem in her empire but she barely bats an eye at that when we’re supposed to believe she’s this ‘fantastic empress.’ Honey- where??? ((Stop congratulating people for doing the bare minimum lol)) It’s really just a bunch of telling but no showing especially for a story that should be a bit more politically involved?? Plus We really don’t see her interact with the lower class save for that magical orphan who- as we see has to be magical in order to get said attention in the first place! (Fantastic philanthropy really)

How ironic would it have been if she’d been originally pushing to end slavery before Sovidiot brought in Rashta?

Ngl Id actually be more sympathetic to Navier as a whole as despite her cold exterior it showed that you know she was actually pushing for reform for the lower class citizens! But nah she can’t be bothered to deal with peasants.

But back to your point- Can someone please tell me what the whole point of the Kaufman/Navier plotline was? Because honest to goodness it sounds like pointless drama to extend the story length at this point. Either that or just show how irresistible goddess Navier is.

Someone once reblogged/replied to my last post and said that no one in this series is a morally good person. That’s fair. I agree they’re all pretty terrible people in their own ways. Honestly I’ve said it time and time again. I don’t have a problem that they’re terrible people.

Good characters =/= good people

What irks me is when the novel disrespectfully handles heavy topics like slavery and trauma to build up its Mary Sue fl. The whole story markets itself as being some pro feminism revenge story but it’s really not? It doesn’t feel like at least half of the cast gets their proper comeuppance? No seriously- Sovieshu should’ve kicked the bucket. Heinrey and his creepy friend should’ve been held more accountable to a higher degree as well.

Navier isn’t a girl’s girl at all. To both the character and story’s fault Everyone must either worship her or hate her. No one who disagrees with her is allowed any sort of meaningful empathy that Navier in my opinion is sort of undeserving of. (Anyone is free to argue this- but she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and everything magically works out for her. I’m supposed to feel more sorry for her than the girl who was sold by her abusive father into slavery?) hahaha no.

At this point I’d advise people who actually want to see a pro feminism story with political intrigue to read ‘I’ll Saved this damn family!’ Now that’s a story that can treat other women who aren’t the fl well and promotes pretty good relationships between them too.

#anti remarried empress #anti Navier #anti Heinrey #rant #isekai

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Note

hii would you be interested in writing a fic where rafe is reader’s dealer and they party together a lot but he notices her addiction getting worse and worse and starts feeling bad for being the one supplying her? i knows it’s kinda a big ask but i’ve just been thinking about it lol

╰┈➤ “you’re cut off”

warnings: sensitive topics, drug abuse, sexualising of self, mentions of bad home life.

summary: y/n’s dealer starts to connect the dots.

he swept a clammy palm over his face, sighing as he watched her stumble down the stairs for the fifth time that night, making her way over to him.

her hair was messily tucked behind her ears and her dress was in need of a readjusting. her eyes flitted around the room, pupils blown while her jaw repeatedly clenched.

he’d kept an eye on her all night, attempting to indirectly protect her from any harm. his chest tightened as he took in all these little details about her, the feeling of guilt washing over him.

y/n y/l/n, the girl once so shy, she’d failed one of her classes because she was too nervous to ask anyone for help. but now, now she was somebody else, something completely different. and he felt awful, awful because he was the one that did this to her, fronting her a bag whenever she’d had a bad day.

“hey rafe!” she beamed, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, almost embarrassed to speak the words he knew to well. “nah, you’re cut off” he stated, turning back to the half rolled blunt between his fingers.

“what do you mean i’m cut off?” she snapped, drumming her fingertips against the edge of the table. “i mean, you’re not getting anymore coke tonight y/n. not from me, not from anyone. you’ve had too much”

“what? no! i-i’m fine! see?” she almost cried, sliding into the chair next to him, leaning in to show him her ‘perfectly fine’ eyes.

she huffed when he wouldn’t budge, staring at him expectantly as she placed a trembling hand on his thigh. “rafe, please..” she whispered, pulling her lip between her teeth anxiously. “stop that, seriously, you’re not getting anything from me, don’t embarrass yourself” he spat, feigning annoyance to hopefully snap her out of this dark spiral.

tears brimmed in her eyes as she pulled away from him, leaving the table and hurrying back up the stairs almost immediately.

he sighed once more, throwing his head back against the cushioned chair. he knew she’d just try and score more upstairs, and he had to get there before she did.

hot on her tail, he jumped up the steps behind her, his eyes darting around the landing to see where she had gone. just in time, a door slamming in the corner of his eye caught his attention over the numerous drunken teens congregating around him.

pushing past the swaying bodies, he quickly turned the handle, causing her to jump slightly as he burst into the room. “get the fuck out” he snapped, gesturing towards the trio of boys huddled on the edge of the bed, counting money.

“for fucks sake rafe!” she yelled, motioning to the people now leaving the room, the only other people who could possible give her more coke.

sighing heavily, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, hastily sparking the blunt that was now in between his lips. he stared her down as he inhaled deeply, intimidating her into lowering her voice.

“that was fucked up rafe..” she whimpered, shrinking into the assortment of pillows against the headboard. “no, what’s fucked up, is your problem with drugs. that’s what’s fucked up” he exclaimed, flicking the dead ash onto the floor of the spare bedroom, perching on the opposite side of the bed.

“why do you even care?” she croaked, still jittering. “i care- i care because this isn’t you, this isn’t the y/n that used to be too scared to even look at me, and now you’re all over me, because i’ve got what you want..” not giving her a chance to explain herself, he continued. “you’re throwing your life away for a temporary fi-” she cut him off quickly. “and you’re not?” she snapped, sitting up in anger.

“that’s different”

“how!”

“because i don’t have a life outside of what i already am, i’ve always been this y/n! you-you haven’t! you could make something of yourself, yet you’re choosing not to!” he stated in exasperation, now leaning against the window.

“you wouldn’t understand rafe, how could you..” she muttered, running her fingers against the expensive material. “you don’t understand that they won’t let me!”

“who won’t let you?” he questioned, cocking an eyebrow. “my parents! sure, you probably think i could run off to some fancy college with my good grades and my good girl attitude! but that’s not true. my parents want to drag me down with them..”

“did you know they belittle me everytime i make an achievement? or that everytime i came to school with a black eye because i’d fallen off my bike, wasn’t actually because i’d fallen off my bike?”

“some people need an escape rafe! some people need to feel free from the chains of their family, or others expectations of them, and this is my only escape. the only thing that makes the condescending voices in my head shut the fuck up for a bit!” he listened intently as she rambled frantically, her hands flailing as she spoke.

his eyes widened the more she spoke, surprised at the ugly truth, or more so, that he felt like he was looking in a mirror.

y/n and rafe had created a friendship based on escaping from the harsh realities of their day to day lives, yet never bothered to look further into each others reasons why, and as it turns out, they weren’t all that different.

he moved quickly to slide into the space next to her, reaching to cradle her head as hot tears cascaded down her cheeks. “i am so sorry y/n..” he mumbled, burning a hole into the wall as he stared ahead, completely dumbfounded.

“why would you be sorry rafe?” she asked, taken aback by his sudden affection. “i’m sorry for not realising earlier, for not caring enough to find out..”

“you don’t have to be sorry for that..it’s not your problem” she whimpered, relaxing into his touch slightly.

“i’m going to take care of you, m’kay? i don’t care what it is, you need someone? you call me, alright?”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #dom!rafe #dealer!rafe #soft!rafe cameron #soft!dom #soft!rafe #dealer!rafe Cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader

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wayward-dreamer · 2 years

Text

Enrapture

Square/s Filled: Mirror Sex - @anyfandomgoesbingo Custom The Boys card

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Word count: 4,000

Summary: Y/N is a P.A on the Solid Gold music program, and is excited for Soldier Boy's appearance. She hopes to catch his attention for a few seconds, but doesn't expect him to take such an interest in her.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, Soldier Boy being a Grade A asshole, drug use, A WHOLE LOTTA SMUT: dirty talk, degradation, oral sex (male receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, brief female masturbation, brief mention of glory holes, nipple play, mirror sex, hair pulling, spanking, unprotected sex (SB pulls out), hand job, cum swallowing. EXTREMELY NSFW 18+ ONLY. A touch of narcissism, more assholery.

A/N: I am officially OBSESSED with how this turned out, so I hope you guys like it! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :) beta’d by my love @evergreencowboy (sorry not sorry for killing you lol)

Y/N had always prided herself on doing her job in a timely manner and doing it correctly.

When she was hired as a P.A for the Solid Gold segment at one of the major television stations, it was unexpected to say the least. She had applied, but considering the entertainment industry was so male dominated, she was sure it was going to slip through her fingers. Then one day she got the call that the job was hers, and she never looked back after it. There was never a dull moment on the set of the music program, especially when supes were invited to join the hour. Sometimes they would be surprisingly good, and other times it was clear they were just there to fulfill their duties from talent management at Vought American.

When Y/N found out who was coming into film their appearance that day she tried not to implode with excitement. Soldier Boy would be at the studio, and she had made sure to clip her gold Soldier Boy inspired pin to her blouse, in the hopes that he would notice if she got to meet him.

“Do you know when he’s gonna be here?” one of the other P.A’s, Josh, asked her as soon as she arrived in the studio.

“He should actually be here soon,” she informed him, grinning.

Just as Y/N picked up one of the walkie-talkies and clipped it to her thick belt, her head whipped around as the sound of heavy boots coming down the hallway reached her ears. She stepped forward, an enamoured smile pulling at her lips as she noticed the swagger with which Soldier Boy walked into the room. His eyes met no one’s as he passed by, an entourage behind him, chattering quickly as they followed him to the assigned dressing room. She saw a small flash of his green suit before he disappeared around the corner, her heart beating fast with the exhilaration of seeing him in the flesh.

She had only ever seen him on television appearances or his old movies that she loved to watch with her parents, but never just mere inches away. She couldn’t wait to tell her family; they were going to freak out.

“That was so awesome,” Josh breathed, stunned by the supe’s presence.

“I kn-” she was about to agree when they both jumped, seeing one of their co-workers being shoved out of the dressing room, his back hitting the wall.

“Did no one get the memo about iced?!”

Y/N eyes widened as she heard the booming voice of the beloved supe echo across the studio. Everyone was in shock as they looked at each other, unsure of what to do. She gulped as she saw her boss stalking towards her, his pace frantic as he pulled her aside.

“He’s in a mood, so I need you to go get an iced coffee from that coffee shop down the street,” he instructed her, glancing back to the dressing room before he looked at her again, “and uh, make sure the ice isn’t melting by the time you get back.”

“Bill, it’s a hundred degrees outside, it’s gonna be melting as soon as I get out of the store,” she hissed, her features pulling into an annoyed expression. He had to come to her with this? Seriously?

“I don’t care what you do, just do it,” he countered, glaring at her. With that as his last word, he left.

“Fuck,” she gritted out between her clenched teeth, picking up her purse from where it was hanging from the chair.

She knew she had to move quickly lest someone else get yelled at unnecessarily. She was nothing if not professional and she wasn’t about to let the needless display of entitlement from Soldier Boy change that.

She’d leave that out when she retold the events of her day to her family.

Y/N hurried down the hallway, biting her lip as she looked down at the iced coffee swishing inside the clear cup. She moved as fast as her heeled boots could take her, stopping in front of the dreaded dressing room, taking a deep breath. From the other cup in her hand, she dropped a few of the ice cubes from the top into the coffee, throwing the rest in the trash nearby. Fixing her thick belt around her waist and fluffing her hair, she tapped her knuckles against the door three times.

“What?”

She held her breath as she opened the door, slowly, offering a polite smile even though she only saw the back of him. “Just brought you this, sir.”

She walked in, her eyes widening in shock as she saw him bent over the make-up table, inhaling deeply as he raised his head, wiping under his nose. She placed the cup down and stepped back, ready to leave, only to cringe inwardly as he stopped her.

“Hold on,” he muttered, pushing his chair back and facing her, his green eyes staring up at her from where he sat.

He lifted his hand, covered by fingerless red gloves, and picked up the coffee. He took the straw out of it and removed the lid, his eyes never leaving her as he took a sip. She clenched her fists at her sides and felt her stomach turn, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her as she felt like he was assessing her with his intense gaze. She tried not to look at him, but his perfect green orbs were incredibly distracting.

“At least someone got the fucking message,” he stated, his voice deep and rough as his stare never faltered, placing the cup in the holder on his chair.

She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “Is there anything else you need, sir?”

His head tilted slightly as he observed her body language, her squared shoulders, head held up high. “You don’t seem like the other people here.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, frowning.

“Well for one you can look me in the eye without fucking stuttering,” he replied, his eyes locking with hers. “I do like confidence in a woman.”

“Just doing my job, sir,” she countered, clasping her hands together, not letting him intimidate her.

One side of his mouth pulled up into a smirk as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze roaming up and down the length of her body. “And you’re doing a mighty fine one, doll. I’m sure there’s plenty of others you’re good at too.”

A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine at his words. She knew what he was implying, and she should’ve been disgusted, but she found herself having the exact opposite reaction as she squeezed her thighs together under her skirt. He had clearly noticed that as his gaze dropped down to the fabric of her skirt when it shifted, making her cheeks heat up. Slowly, he stood up from the chair and took two short strides towards her, his body close to hers. He glanced down at her blouse, his fingers plucking at the pin, shaped like his shield, before looking deep into her eyes.

“Someone’s a fan,” he remarked, the charming smirk once again gracing his features. “That pin’s rare, hasn’t been produced since the 50s.”

“It was my father’s,” she stated, as she met his gaze. “My family… we’re big fans.”

That seemed to impress him, his eyebrows raising in approval. “Well, I appreciate that.”

Y/N undid the pin, cursing under her breath as it fell out of her hand. She knelt, picking it up from near the leg of the table, brushing off some of the dirt that was coating it.

“It was easier to get you on your knees than I thought it would be.” He looked down at her with a smug grin pulling at his lips, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “So long as you’re down there, why don’t you show me one of those jobs I just know you’re a fucking pro at?”

Y/N gazed up at him, her eyes briefly flicking down to the front of his suit, watching his hand pull the zip of the pants down before she met his eyes again. She could see the shape of his cock, making the blood rush to her cheeks. With a small smirk of her own, she shifted closer to him, reaching through the zip and taking out his cock. She wasn’t sure what came over her to do it, but considering how much she had always liked the supe, she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. A choked gasp left her as she took in the length of his shaft, her hand wrapped around his thick girth, slowly stroking him. He was petty and probably had the biggest ego of the supes, but she found it hard to give a damn with his cock in her palm. She pumped her hand a little faster, her fingers forming a ring under the head and twisting slightly, causing a soft grunt to leave his lips. He was getting hard in her hold, making her squeeze her legs together once more.

“Come on, sugar, put that mouth to good use,” he ordered, his voice deep and rough as he looked down at her.

She leaned forward, dropping her saliva along the length of his cock, softly sucking at the tip, licking at the pre-cum. She took him into her mouth, a soft choke escaping her as the head pressed against her throat. She pulled back slightly before sinking her mouth back down, building a steady pace, bobbing her head back and forth, circling her tongue around the tip every time she drew back.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the noise turning into a dark chuckle as he closed his eyes, throwing his head back.

“Y/N, we need you in studio B,” her radio cracked, interrupting the moment.

Holding his hand out, she fumbled to unclip the walkie-talkie from her belt and pass it to him as she continued to move along his length. Pressing the button, he stared down at her with a smirk as he spoke. Her hands came up to assist her mouth, stroking the base of his cock, his green orbs boring into hers.

“She’s got her hands full right now,” he muttered, turning off the radio and throwing it over his shoulder, hearing it clatter against the floor.

His gloved hands slipped into her hair and guided her head down, a long moan vibrating against his shaft as he pressed into the back of her throat. He fisted the strands of her hair and pulled her back, a harsh gasp leaving her as her lungs burned, breathing heavily. He growled as he brought her head back down but kept her still, thrusting his hips forward. A glugging sound left her as he continued fuck her throat, spit collecting at the corners of her mouth. Tears pricked her eyes as she gagged lightly, her eyes never leaving his. They spilled down her cheeks as the pressure built in her throat, causing her mascara to run.

“Fuck, doll, your mouth’s a fucking dream,” he husked, his hands firmly holding her head in place. “Taking my dick so good…”

She moaned around him as her hands moved to cling to his hips, needing something to hold onto, but he clicked his tongue in disapproval, making her glance up at him.

“Spread your legs, sugar,” he ordered, grunting at the feel of her lips around him, “get that pussy fucking drippin’ for me…”

Y/N shifted slightly, pulling up her skirt enough to open her legs, her hand slipping under the waistband of her cotton panties. She ran her fingers through her folds, feeling how wet she was already, pressing them to her clit and running them over in tight circles.

“Christ, your mouth’s fucking perfect,” he groaned, throwing his head back as he held her head still. He looked down at her with hooded eyes, smirking as his fingers scraped against her scalp. “Maybe I should take you back to Vought, use you as my own, personal glory hole, huh? Have you suck me off every night… every morning… keep your slut mouth full of my spunk. How’s that sound, doll? Want to be a good little slut for me?”

Gathering her hair in his hands, Soldier Boy pulled her back once again, a harsh groan escaping her as strings of her saliva extended from his cock to her mouth. Her gaze grew dark as she looked up at him, somehow getting more aroused than she thought possible at the idea of what he just suggested.

“Up,” he ordered, tapping his hand against her cheek as he stepped back.

Y/N stood up gradually, her legs wobbling as she tried to steady herself. Before she could completely recover, he grabbed her hips and bent her over the table, kicking her legs apart and pulling her hips back as her hands pressed into the surface, supporting her weight. He roughly pushed her skirt up her thighs, their eyes meeting in the mirror in front of them. He still wore that smug expression as his hands reached the front of her body, gripping the middle of her blouse and yanking it hard, the fabric shredding to expose her breasts. He pulled down the cups of her bra, roughly tweaking her nipples between his fingers and pinching hard, causing a loud moan to slip out of her mouth.

“You like that, dollface?” he asked, grinning as he repeated the action over her left, only harder, a little more painful.

“Yes, fuck,” she gasped, dropping her head forward as her eyes squeezed shut.

He chuckled, the noise sounding almost sinister to her. “Someone likes a little pain…”

He tugged at the edge of her panties and pulled, ripping them off her lower body as easily as her blouse. Taking hold of his cock, he smacked the tip against her folds, a low moan leaving her as she anticipated what was coming next. In one swift move of his hips, he was buried deep inside her, a grunt falling from his lips as he felt her walls completely sheath his length.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the flesh of her hip. “Sucking my dick got you nice and wet, so fucking perfect…”

The pace he set was slow but hard, every harsh thrust pushing air out of her lungs, the table shaking from the force. She moaned softly as she lifted her head, her breath fogging up the mirror. His hips smacked against the curve of her ass, his hands once again in her hair as he held her still.

“How’s it feel, sugar?” he asked, leaning over her slightly, his gaze meeting hers in the reflective glass. “Like having my dick fucking you deep and hard, huh? I can see it in your eyes, and your face says it all…”

“Yeah,” she cried out, nodding frantically.

He hummed in dissatisfaction, pulling at the strands of her hair roughly, making her squeal as their eyes stayed locked on each other. “Gonna need a little more than that, dollface. Tell me how it feels.”

“Good,” she whimpered, continuing to look at him through the mirror. “Feels so good, sir.”

A loud, wanton moan erupted from her as he picked up the pace, the top of the mirror banging into the wall behind it with the impact of his hips. His thrusts were brutal, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix as he moved deep within her, one hand still in her hair as the other lifted above the globes of her ass, bringing it down hard. She practically screamed as she stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself through the euphoric glint in her eyes. She was completely enraptured by him and the pleasure coursing through her. It should’ve been painful because of his strength, she should’ve left before he had the chance to stop her, she should’ve been repulsed by the entitlement she had heard, but in that moment she was too far gone to care. She whimpered as he leaned over her once again, his lips close to her ear.

“Tell me what I wanna hear, sugar,” he whispered, his pupils blown wide with lust and the drugs he had before she came into the room.

“Feels so good, sir… so perfect,” she moaned loudly, her nails scraping against the surface of the table. The items on top started to roll off, dropping on the floor as it continued to shake under them, but she wasn’t bothered. If someone had told her that morning that this would be happening, she wouldn’t have believed it. “So perfect, sir.”

He smirked, his teeth nipping at the shell of her ear as his flippy locks fell into his face. “Again.”

“Your cock feels so perfect, sir,” she repeated, a smile of her own pulling at one side of her lips.

“Louder,” he grunted, squeezing the right cheek of her ass in his hand.

She raised her voice as she did as she was told, but squealed as his hand struck her again, the impact against her flesh causing her legs to quiver.

“Louder,” he groaned, tugging on the strands of her hair again, “I want everyone in that studio to hear how much of a fan you really are…”

“Your cock feels so fucking perfect, sir!” she yelled, her eyes shutting tightly.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, chuckling as he stood upright, thrusting hard against her. “God, your pussy’s taking me so fucking good, can feel how close you are.”

Y/N’s erratic breathing continued to fog up the glass, her walls clenching tight around him, and she knew she was almost at the peak of pleasure. She could feel the familiar heat deep in her core, a loud whimper escaping her as he pounded into her. The build-up wasn’t long, and before she realized it, she pressed her forehead against the mirror as a breathy shriek left her, the dam breaking as her slick covered his shaft.

“Fuck, doll, you soaked my cock,” he growled, suddenly pulling out and grabbing her arms, “down on your knees, wanna feel that mouth around my dick again, cum down that throat. Can’t have any surprises now… with anyone else, maybe.”

Y/N didn’t have a second to process what he said as she knelt on the floor, wrapping her lips around his cock and bobbing her head back and forth. He pressed his hands into the back of her head, the weight helping her sink down on his shaft.

“That’s it, sugar,” he husked, looking down at her with hooded eyes. “Keep jerking my cock, make me cum.”

She pulled back, wrapping her hand around his shaft and pumping her wrist up and down swiftly, her mouth open and waiting as she moaned. His eyes squeezed shut as he threw his head back, a strained yet guttural moan escaping him as his cock throbbed in Y/N’s hand. She whimpered as ropes of his cum covered her tongue and lips, her mouth closing around the tip as she sucked, softly. She took everything he had to give, gulping as his seed slipped down her throat, before she drew back.

“Fuckkkk,” he rasped, grinning as he stepped back, turning away from her. He grabbed the box of tissues off the floor and placed them back on the table, taking a few to clean himself off, disposing them in the trash.

Y/N stood up on shaky legs, glancing at her dishevelled state in the mirror. She pulled her skirt down and fixed her bra, methodically doing what she needed to because she couldn’t think straight. She wiped her mouth and hands with the tissues and patted her hair down, making sure it was decent before she had to step back out. She had no idea how she was going to look anyone in the eye now, after they had no doubt heard her getting thoroughly fucked by Soldier Boy.

“Ben, what the fuck’s taking so long?!” they heard someone yell before the door burst open, the man they called The Legend standing in the threshold. He took the scene in front of him, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Seriously?”

“Get that fucking stick out of your ass,” Soldier Boy, Ben as he was really named, snapped, glaring at him. “You’ve walked in on worse.”

“Believe me, I know and really wish I could forget,” The Legend countered, shaking his head as he walked out. “Be out there in five!” he called out.

She turned away and picked up some safety pins, managing to mend her blouse back together, hiding the pins inside. From the corner of her eye, she saw Soldier Boy zip his pants up, his hand combing through his flippy locks before he picked up his helmet, placing it on his head.

“That sure was something, dollface,” he stated, looking at himself in the mirror, avoiding her gaze now.

She watched him admire his face in the mirror, smirk, his perfect teeth on display as he winked at himself. He shifted back and picked up the iced coffee from the cup holder in his chair, taking a sip. He cringed as his eyes closed, his nostrils flaring before he opened his lids, his pupils blown wide from the drugs and his simmering anger. The ice had obviously melted by now.

“Mind running out and getting another?” he asked, his voice deep and husky, but there was a slight edge to it now that wasn’t there before. Dropping the cup in the trash, he fixed the collar around his neck, before tapping her shoulder as he walked past, his eyes still averted from hers. “Thanks, darling. You’re a peach.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched tight as she squared her shoulders, her features pulling into a deep frown as she watched him leave, without so much as a glance her way. She didn’t know why she expected him to look at her but considering he couldn’t take his eyes off her as he pounded her into next week, a quick glimpse in her direction would’ve been nice. She collected herself, picking up her walkie-talkie from the floor and clipping it back on her belt. She looked down at the Soldier Boy pin that she loved, lying on the table, the reality of what just happened making her pick it up and throw it in the trash. Her family didn’t need to know.

She didn’t glance back at the room as she closed the door, her boots echoing in the hallway as she made her way to studio B. She stood in the shadows, clipboard in hand and headset on, ready for the flashing red light to turn off and recording to start. She watched Soldier Boy’s eye wander to the dancers and rolled her eyes as she saw him smirk. The charisma was oozing out of him, something that would’ve floored her before their dressing room encounter. Truthfully, she was ashamed to admit it still did even if she saw him differently now.

The bell rang as the red light switched off and signalled the start of the recording, making her look down at her schedule. She was perfectly fine with missing the show.

It’s Solid Gold! Starring Marilyn McCoo, with Solid Gold recording stars Kim Carnes, The Oak Ridge Boys, Waylan Flowers and Madame, the Solid Gold dancers, and very special guest, Soldier Boy!

She was going to do the job she was assigned to do. The one she was good at and prided herself on. She had other duties than just making sure the talent was taken care of, so those were the ones she was going to do, not take orders from Soldier Boy. No matter how much of a fan she used to be.

But she found her resolve slipping as she lifted her gaze to see him performing.

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