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#and I’m behind on the book I’m reading for book club
emmaspolaroid · 2 months
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what a long day
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icterid-rubus · 4 months
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Okay but are dating apps hard for everyone to use? I literally have to sit and agonize over swiping right on someone for days. I gotta mentally map out every potential conversation and subsistent 50 years of marriage I could have with the stranger based on the allotted paragraph bio.
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dashiellqvverty · 1 year
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one day i will write an essay or blog post or something about how fight club is not, in fact, a satire of toxic masculinty and in fact takes itself and it’s fetishization of masculinity very seriously
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wordsinhaled · 9 months
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i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”
many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well
metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.
it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)
so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way
aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.
but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on
and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun
like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience
aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.
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lovebugism · 9 months
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eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her
thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.
She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.
So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.
Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 
Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 
J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.
It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.
“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.
He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 
His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 
“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.
Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”
“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.
“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”
Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.
A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.
His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”
Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.
This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 
You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.
“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.
Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”
“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”
“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”
Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”
“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”
You swallow thickly, then nod.
Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.
“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”
“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.
You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.
“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.
He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 
The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.
And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.
Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.
“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”
Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 
He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.
“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”
Eddie glares at the boy.
He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”
—————
He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 
He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 
Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 
He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.
He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.
Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.
And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.
“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 
“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”
He grimaces. “Sorry…”
“’S okay,” you repeat.
“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”
Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”
“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”
“Okay…?” 
“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”
“Using me?” you echo.
“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”
Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.
“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.
“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”
“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 
“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”
He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 
You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 
“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”
“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.
“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”
“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.
You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”
Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.
“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”
“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.
You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”
Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 
And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared. 
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
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Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 
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Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 
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Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
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PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
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harringtonstilinski · 27 days
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Pour Some Sugar On Me - Eddie Munson (Smut)
Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 7,233 Warnings: fluff, squint super hard for angst, mentions of weed, using the hellfire club scene again bite me, trying to do more dirty talk so pls be gentle even though it's not much, Requested: no | yes; Smut (Minors DNI): no | yes, 18+; protected p in v, talks of masturbation, public, A/N: Hi, friends! The Upside Down doesn't exist in this. Also, the Party's in 8th grade, so no Hellfire members are mentioned except for Eddie. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
eddie munson masterlist
eddie munson playlist
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“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?
“No.”
“Sweetheart, please!”
Sighing, you stopped walking to turn and face your best friend, your books clutched to your chest. “Why?”
“Because we need you!”
“I don’t know anything about D&D! Why would you make me torture myself with trying to learn how to play while you and the rest of Hellfire have been playing for literal years?”
Eddie went to open his mouth, but stopped short when he realized… you were right. He raised his brows with a frown on his face, an unimpressed look on his face as he agreed with you. “You’re right. That’s fair.” When he looked back at your figure, he noticed… you weren’t standing there at all, having walked away.
Following you, he exclaimed, “Sweets!” Resting his hand gently on your arm as he caught up with you, he took a breath and said, “Come on! At least just sit in your chair. You can read or do homework or watch us play. You love doing one of those.”
It was true. You did love doing one of those three things while they played. If you read or did your homework, you’d pause and watch them for a moment, and sometimes while you actually watched them, you’d lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he wasn’t being all dramatic to just rest your eyes for a moment.
He would never admit it, but that was Eddie’s favorite moment; your head leaned against his shoulder with your eyes closed, your breathing even as you’d fall asleep while he and the rest of Hellfire would play. As he looked at you, he was silently hoping that you’d do it again at this meeting.
As you sighed, you went to answer him, but your name being called had you looking towards the source, another sigh falling from your lips. “What, Steve?”
Jogging up to you, Steve smiled and asked, “Hey, you gonna come to the game tonight?”
When you looked back at Eddie, you saw how uncomfortable he was, and it was then and there that you made your decision. Looking back at Steve, you answered, “I can’t. I’m going to Hellfire tonight. I kinda owe Eddie.”
Said boy looked at you, shock in his eyes as you stayed looking at Steve, the latter nodding his head and smiling softly.
“Yeah, okay,” Steve said.
Resting your hand on his arm, you frowned, replying, “I’m sorry. I’ll come to the next game. Promise.”
He sighed, bringing you into a hug. “Okay, bug.” Kissing the top of your head, he sighed. Looking into your eyes, he reminded you to be good and not do anything he wouldn’t do, which in turn made you laugh.
When you turned to look at Eddie, he still had that same look on his face that he had while you were talking to Steve. “What?” you chuckled.
“You’re gonna come tonight?” he asked.
Starting your walk to your locker, Eddie followed as you replied, “Well, you wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, so…”
Eddie softly laughed behind you, taking quick strides to your side, putting his arm around your shoulders. “You know you love it.”
You couldn’t deny, you released a breath with a smile on your face as you answered, “Yeah. I do.”
~~~
“It’s forced conformity,” Eddie said, walking back across the table.
“Oh, my god, Eddie, get down,” you whispered, head hidden in your book.
He listened, but not like how you wanted. Instead, he jumped down and yelled, “That’s what’s killing the kids!”
Feeling totally embarrassed, you went back to reading and blocked out most of the events that happened after that, coming back to reality as he said, “And all you gotta do is get your Bo-Peep’s on and go and find one.”
When he took his seat back at the head of the table, you looked at him with furrowed brows, asking, “Get their Bo-Peep’s on?”
“Ya’know. Like Bo-Peep and her sheep?”
You looked at him for a moment before looking back at your book while saying, “You’re so stupid.”
All Eddie could do was chuckle, reaching into his lunchbox to retrieve a pretzel, a smile present on his face. As he chewed his food, his smile fell as a thought raced his mind. “Hey, sweetheart?”
“Hm?” you hummed, eyes still on the page, but your attention fully on Eddie.
“I have this, uhm… thing after school… in the woods.”
Well, that grabbed your attention. “What? I thought we were hanging out before Hellfire like we always do?”
“And we will,” Eddie said, reaching to lightly touch your forearm, his brows raised. “I just, uhm… have to meet someone… in the woods.” He didn’t want to admit to himself, but he loved touching you, within reason; your arm, your knee, your shoulder, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles like the romance movies. Honestly, he felt like he couldn’t get enough.
You looked at him as he quickly eyed his lunchbox before looking back at you, never having moved his hand. Sighing, you closed your eyes, focusing on Eddie’s hand resting on your arm to ground you. Hating to admit it to yourself, you loved feeling his touch on you. You often thought about it when you were up late at night, unable to sleep, thinking about what it would feel like for him to touch you while you pleasured yourself.
Eddie’s hand lightly squeezed where it rested on your forearm. “I know you don’t like it–”
“Eddie, I don’t just not like it,” you whispered. “I hate it.” Looking down, you couldn't help but feel emotional at the mention of his ‘side job’. When he had admitted to you one night that he had started selling weed, you got into a heated argument about it, your best friend telling you that he was doing it to help his Uncle Wayne.
You had understood his reasoning, but were more afraid of him getting caught selling it, or smoking it, or just having possession of it. He had assured you that he would get caught, and that he’d be safe with it. So far, so good.
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Moving his hand to yours that was gripping your book, removing your hand to hold your fingers, almost like he was getting ready to kiss your knuckles like he did from time to time. Instead, he just held them, looking into your eyes. “I promise you, I’ll be done quickly. Just wait for me at the van, okay?”
Sighing, you nodded, closing your eyes. When you opened them back up, you looked Eddie straight in the eye and smirked before asking, “Can I sit in the back? With the doors open?” You knew he didn’t care and would say yes. Hell, he’d let you sit on the goddamn roof if you wanted to.
Softly laughing, he lowered his head before bringing your hand towards his face, his lips ghosting over your fingers as he lifted his head and whispered, “Anything for you, m’lady,” before kissing your fingers, a giggle erupting from you.
The entire time the two of you had your moment, the rest of Hellfire looked on with annoyed looks on their faces, each of them wondering if the two of you were ever getting together.
~~~
When the bell rang after lunch and in between classes, you carried on with your day like normal, only your anxiety started to spike at the thought of Eddie in the woods with his damn lunchbox during last period, and just like he did every day, Eddie was waiting for you by the front doors of the school.
As he watched you approach him, he held his arm out for you to take, muttering a “M’lady,” with a smile on his face, making you laugh like he did every day. He walked you to his van, opening the back doors for you before helping you hop inside. Deciding to make a bold move, he placed himself between your legs, his hands on either side of your outer thighs. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Shaking his head at you, he added quietly, “Don’t go anywhere.”
Your breath hitched as he stood before you before you nodded your head, saying just as quietly, “I won’t.” Holding up your book, you added, “I’ll just be sitting here reading.” When he leaned forward, you closed your eyes, feeling his lips on your forehead in a chaste kiss. Well, that was new.
He walked away, lunchbox in tow as he made his way towards the back of the school to the picnic table in the woods, where he met none other than Chrissy Cunningham. The entire time he was in the woods with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, constantly looking off in the direction of the school, a worried look on his face that didn’t go unnoticed by Chrissy.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.
Quickly looking back at her, he raised his brows before furrowing them while nodding, answering, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. So, uhh… we gonna do this or what?” before his mind went back to you.
When you watched Eddie walk away, your facial expression went from one of nervousness to somewhat sadness. You were sad that he walked away from you to make a drug deal, moreso because he walked away. You wanted that moment with him to last, but as the universe would have it, you didn’t get what you wanted.
So, you turned your back to the wall of the van and leaned against it, bringing your knees up as you rested your book on your thighs, already lost in the words on the pages, the world of the book sucking you in.
As your eyes scanned the words of the scene you were reading, your mind couldn’t help but picture you and Eddie doing whatever the characters were doing, your bottom lip between your teeth.
You hadn’t even noticed two figures walking up to the back of the van and leaning against the bumper.
“Can you please remove your lip from your teeth?”
Well, that had your attention as you jumped about 10 feet out of your skin. Holding your chest with one hand and your book with the other, you looked at your little brother and just glared. “What the fuck, Dustin Wade?”
Chucklin, Steve asked, “Your middle name is Wade?”
It was Dustin’s turn to use that Henderson glare on his older male friend, responding, “Yes, it is. And what’s yours? Clarence.”
“Worse,” he answered.
“It’s Anthony,” you said, hiding behind your book.
Steve looked at you, mouth opened. “How dare you?” He said your middle name with such sarcasm, your face went from playful to annoyed.
“Go the fuck away.”
They both laughed, which in turn made you chuckle before you asked, “Okay, but seriously, what do you guys want?”
“We came over to ask you if it was okay if I went to watch Steve play,” Dustin said. “He said–”
“I can take him home right after,” Steve agreed.
With a confused look, you asked, “Don’t have to shower and celebrate with the team after?”
“He can take me after he showers or just changes,” Dustin suggested. He looked at Steve and added, “He can even shower at our house and stay the night.”
“Yeah, yeah! I can do that!” Steve said.
Narrowing your eyes at Steve, you said, “You better make sure he gets home, Harrington, or else I will spill your hair care routine to everyone in this godforsaken school, and maybe even the whole town.”
“Yup, I’ll leave right after the game.”
“Good.” Looking at Dustin, you said, “Please be good, no funny business, and tell mom to not wait up.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin asked.
Sighing, you crossed your legs, resting your hands in the middle, one of your fingers still in the pages of your book. “I’m going to Hellfire with Eddie tonight. He’s been working on this campaign forever and he wants me to be there.”
Both boys looked at each other, different expressions on each of their faces before Dustin turned to face you once more, saying, “Fair enough. You be good. Don’t make dumb choices.”
Chuckling, you uncrossed your legs, bringing your knees back up, saying, “Yeah, okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” they both replied, a genuine laugh spilling from your lips as your eyes went back to the pages. You weren’t sure how long you’d been reading for. The only thing you were sure of was the sun; it was high in the sky when you saw your brother and best friend, but had started to set when you thought Eddie wouldn’t return. 
So, you crawled more into the back, finding the pillows and blankets he’d left in there. You crawled back to the spot you were just previously occupying, placing the pillow where your butt had sat, laying horizontally with the blanket draped over your body, your eyes falling shut. 
As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about Eddie, a quiet “goddammit,” falling from your lips as you realized… you liked your best friend.
~~~
His meeting with Chrissy took a little longer than he expected. It basically turned into an instruction session before turning into a therapy session. As he walked back to the parking lot, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Chrissy helped Eddie open his eyes at his feelings for you. Even though he didn’t want to admit his feelings, he knew he would eventually have to. So, as he continued walking to his van, he ran a hand down his face, muttering a quiet, “goddammit,” to himself before rounding the back of the van, stopping dead in his tracks as he spotted your sleeping form.
He couldn’t help but watch as your shoulders and chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Sitting on the edge of the van, he reached out, lightly brushing a strand of hair away from your face causing you to stir.
When you opened your eyes, you looked at him and smiled a sleep smile in his direction before essentially… falling back asleep.
Eddie chuckled, resting his hand on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing along your cheekbone. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, a quiet hum being your answer to him. As he smirked, he said, “It’s almost time for Hellfire, baby. You still gonna sit and watch?”
Slowly opening your eyes, you breathed in a breath, tilting your head into Eddie’s hand that was still resting on your cheek. “Yeah,” you whispered. Sitting up, you let the blanket fall from your shoulder and bunch up at your waist. With furrowed brows, you looked at your best friend and asked, “What took so long?”
Sighing, Eddie moved to climb in the back of the van with you to retrieve his Hellfire bag. “Chrissy turned the sale into a therapy session after I explained everything to her about… well, ya’know.”
You nodded your head at the same time Eddie turned back around to face you.
“Anyway. I’d probably still be out there if she hadn't noticed what time it was, seeing as she has to be at the game and all.”
“Right,” you whispered, looking down at your book. Picking it up, you muttered, “I thought I put you up,” before you grabbed your backpack to put the book back in. You pulled the blanket off of you and went to fold it when Eddie’s hand stopped you, a shiver running down your spine at the touch.
“Don’t fold it yet,” he whispered.
“Why?”
“Because.” He wanted to say what was on his mind, but stopped himself, instead saying, “I know you get cold in the drama room. You can bring it to warm yourself up.”
A smile spread across your face as you tilted your head down, not wanting him to see the blush creeping on your cheeks. “Okay.”
After he jumped from the back of the van, he held his hand out to you, a smile on his face as he said, “M’lady?”
Chuckling, you slid off the back to your feet, hand still in his as you looked at him, saying, “You’re so stupid.”
~~~
Once the boys had everything set up and were sitting in their spots, Eddie took his place at the head of the table on, what he liked to call, his throne. You sat next to Eddie, sighing while draping the blanket over your legs, bringing them up to bend at the knee and tilting them to the side, letting your knee rest against the arm rest.
Just as you opened your book to pick up where you left off, Eddie said something about hooded cultists chanting something about lord Vecna.
“They turn to you, remove their hoods,” Eddie said, your eyes lifting to look at him from the corner of your eye. “You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled–”
As Eddie spoke and started to stand, you lowered your book, his voice sucking you in like a damn vice. He looked at you as he whispered, “Desiccated,” making you jump a little.
“And something else,” he said, softly, turning to the rest of the group. “He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” After putting his left arm behind his back, he reached over his head with his right arm, covering his left eye.
The boys all protested while your brows scrunched in confusion as they started shouting their opinions from the last campaign.
“Vecna’s dead!”
“He was killed by Kas!”
Eddie looked at you with a smirk as he sat down before going back into his Dungeon Master character, as he liked to call it. “So it was thought, my friends, so it was thought.” Grabbing the Vecna playing piece, he stood and said, “But Vecna lives!” before playing the piece on the board.
“What the fuck?” you whispered.
“You are scared, you’re tired, you are injured,” Eddie said. “Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?” He looked at you, leaning his hands on the table and asked, “What say you, princess? Do you think they’ll flee… or fight?”
You thought for a moment before shrugging, “If they’re not a bunch of pussies, that’d fight.”
His eyes slightly widened, his cock twitching at the dirty words that came from your mouth… or what he considered to be dirty. Looking back at his friends, he said, “Come on.”
After a few moments, one of them said, “I say we fight. Do the death,” everyone else around the table giving their agreements.
You watched as Eddie chuckled, a warmth in your belly starting to form. Deciding not to wait another day, you started to quickly form a plan in your head as to how you’d show Eddie exactly how you feel.
Eddie sat back down, happy with the turn of events. He knew that if you have your opinion, the rest of the group would agree to it. On the nights you weren’t there, they would lose the campaign and go home thinking of ways they could’ve won, as opposed to the nights you were there, they’d win, going with the opinion you gave.
When he needed inspiration for his campaign, Eddie would come to your house or call you to have you come to his trailer, just to sit and enjoy your company. You’d fall asleep half the time, but that didn’t matter to him. Your company was all he needed.
As you sat next to Eddie, half watching and half reading, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights with him, sitting with him in his room while he wrote the campaign they’re all playing. The way he would pace in front of his bed, stopping at his Sweetheart to strum her strings before going back to the task at hand.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his hands hold you, touch you, feel you the way he did his guitar. You also couldn’t but wonder what his fingers would feel like, caressing your skin, tucking your hair behind your ear, lacing his fingers between yours. The third thing you couldn’t but wonder about… was his mouth, and what it could do to you.
When one of the members called for a time-out, you were brought out of your thoughts, not realizing that you were just staring at nothing on the page in front of you. A hand on your knee caused you to jump, looking down at the ringed finger on your best friend’s hand.
Looking up at him, you noticed the crease between his eyebrows as he asked, “You okay?”
Nodding, you took in a breath. “I guess I got lost in thought.”
“About what?” His hand was still there, on your knee.
You took a breath to reply, but stopped yourself from doing so as you furrowed your own brows, looking at the huddle at the other end of the table as you heard, “Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.”
Sighing heavily, you looked back at your book, your index finger between the pages to turn when you were ready. You could feel the eyes of the members on you as you read the words you’d read a million times that night before saying in a sing-song manner, “I wouldn’t be a bunch of pussies, if I were you.”
“Pussies? Really? ‘Cause we’re not delusional?”
“Delusional? How about… not cowards?” you shrugged.
Eddie’s voice yelling out, “Hey!” had your head quickly turning towards him, noticing he wasn’t sitting in his chair, but sitting on the armrest furthest from you. “If I may interject, gentlemen–” He looked at you with a smirk. “Princess.” Looking back at the boys, he continued as he switched armrests, “Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gregory the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?”
They all turned back around as you looked back down at your book, chuckling to yourself.
“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, bumping his ribcage with your shoulder.
“Nothing,” you said, a smile on your face. “It’s just–” You yawned, closing your book. “-nice to see you in your element.” Putting your book up, you felt like you couldn’t keep your eyes open. When you leaned back against the back of the seat, you brought your knees back up, having placed your feet on the ground when reaching for your bag.
Leaning your head against the back of the chair, you felt the blanket being draped over your form, your eyes falling shut, but you weren’t yet asleep when the boys came back to the table, standing at the end. You did, however, fall right asleep before they started to roll the 20 sided die, which was only a couple of minutes later.
Eddie’s sole focus was on that 20 sided die, he hadn’t noticed you fell asleep, head slouched over more to the point where your hairline was almost touching his throne. When the die said 20, the club cheered loudly, Eddie saying, “What? What?” before clapping and looking at your sleeping form.
“That’s why we play, princess,” he whispered. “That’s why we play.”
~~~
You woke up to the unmistakable sound of Eddie putting on his jacket, opening your eyes to catch him pulling his hair from under the leather before you sat up and started stretching, a yawn escaping you.
Eddie turned at the sound of your yawn, sitting back down in his throne, resting a hand on your arm. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “How’d you sleep?”
Shrugging, you softly replied, “As good as you can in this chair,” before softly chuckling. “Did they win?”
He nodded, bringing his hand up to your face, brushing some hair from your face. “Crit hit.”
As you scrunched your brows, you tried to think of what the crit hit meant… and then it came to you. “Crit hit equals good thing.”
Proud that you remembered something he taught you, Eddie smiled a little bigger, nodding his head. “That’s right, princess.”
With your eyes locked on his, and his on yours, you brought your foreheads together, closing your eyes while sighing. “Eddie,” you whispered. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
He nodded against your forehead, his eyes having been closed. This was it, he thought to himself. She’s going to reject me. “I know, and it’s okay.”
Confused, you lifted your head while opening your eyes, looking at his crestfallen expression. “What’s okay?”
Eddie dropped his hand, letting out a heavy sigh while standing. He walked to the side of the table, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose while the other went to his hip, his back somewhat towards you. “The rejection,” he whispered. Trying to compose himself, he turned towards you a little, resting his hands on the table, much like he did earlier in the night. Hanging his head, he said, “Just get it over with.”
You had stood when the word rejection came from his lips. “Rejection? You think I’m rejecting you? Eddie, that was the furthest thing from my mind.” Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek furthest from you, you turned his head to face you, his eyes not following. “Eddie, look at me,” you whispered.
Sighing, he turned his eyes toward you, those chocolate brown eyes you loved so much staring back at you as your thumb moved across his cheek, gently stroking.
“What I was gonna say–,” you said, so softly. “-was that I really like you. Hell, I may even love you-”
“As a friend,” he gritted through his teeth.
“As more,” you said sternly. “Eddie, listen. I’ve had a crush on you forever. Don’t ask me when it started because I don’t even fucking remember. You’ve introduced me to so much; metal, D&D, a world outside of popularity and basketball.”
It was true. You were considered popular just by knowing Steve Harrington, who was still your best friend in the entire world. Eddie was an added bonus. Though your popularity status went downhill after everyone found out you were hanging out with Eddie The Freak Munson, that didn’t stop you from hanging out with him or Steve, the latter still calling you his best friend. You didn’t care about your popularity status. All you cared about… was being around people that made you happy, and those people… were Eddie and Steve, respectfully. Your main focus right now being Eddie and his happiness. 
“I love you for that,” you whispered.
With wide eyes, Eddie looked at you. “You love me, then?” Looking at a spot on his denim vest, you thought it over for just a moment before smiling and looking back into those chocolate eyes, whispering, “Yeah. I do.”
“Thank God,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours as he stood straighter.
It took you no time to kiss him back, your free hand coming up to cup his other cheek, your lips moving in sync as Eddie’s hands came to rest on your waist. His tongue traced your bottom lip, asking for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted.
As if a magnet were in between the two of you, the both of you pulled each other closer, your hands going into his hair as his hands went to your back, gently rubbing wherever he could.
You pulled back first, needing some much needed air as you rested your forehead against his. “I’ve thought about this for a really long time, Eds.”
“Me, too, baby.”
Sparking up an idea, you rested your hand on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Don’t move,” you said, enthusiastically frisky.
When you walked toward the door, Eddie’s eyes followed your form, a mischievous grin on his face.  “What are you doing, princess?”
“Oh, you know–” Click. “Just… locking the door.” You turned back to face him, back against the door for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with a smile as you looked at him.
Eddie knew he was in trouble just with that smile on your face. He felt his cock twitch his pants, the black denim growing uncomfortably tight as he looked at you. “And, why, pray tell, are you… locking the door?”
“So that I can do this,” you said, making your way over to him.
As a confused look crossed his features as you walked up to him, he shook his head, his hair swaying with the motion as he went to ask, “Wha–” before your lips pressed to his. He was shocked, to say the least, but finally happy to have your lips on his.
Snaking your hands into his hair, you sighed happily as your lips moved in sync with Eddie’s, his tongue sneaking out to ask for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted. The moment your tongues touched, a soft moan escaped you, Eddie’s dick growing even harder than what he thought was capable.
“Damn, princess,” he muttered, kissing the corner of your mouth and cheek until he got to your neck. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for that?”
“Mmmmm,” you hummed, hand lightly resting on the back of his head as his lips searched for that sweet spot. Once he found it, you gasped, whispering, “Eddie! Right there.”
He went to work on your sweet spot, leaving a bruise there, licking at it to soothe it before kissing his way down to your collarbone, reaching with his hands to grab the hem of your shirt, lifting his head to look into your eyes, asking, “Can I take it off? If I’m gonna do anything else–”
“Yes,” you breathed. “Take it off. Take it all off.”
Eddie chuckled and shook his head, lifting your shirt up and over your head, revealing… a plain black bra. “Damn, sweets.”
“It’s not special or anything–”
“Still hot.”
“Because it’s black?” you smirked.
He chuckled again, dipping his head to kiss at the tops of your breasts, snaking his hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, the straps falling from your shoulders. Once the material had slid down your arms, he looked at you, mouth watering. “Damn, babe,” he whispered.
Deciding to be a little daring, you lightly shimmied your chest, a small smile on your face as you did. “Like what you see, Eds?”
“Oh, I very much like what I see,” he said, bringing his hand to the spot between your shoulder blades to pull you towards him, his lips descending to your nipple, wrapping around the bud.
As he licked and sucked, your hand found its purchase to the back of Eddie’s head again, leaving him there as moans and whimpers spilled from your lips. “Oh, my god.”
Breathing out a soft laugh as he switched to your other breast, he whispered, “I knew you’d like that.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” you asked, softly. Another moan made its way out of your throat at the feeling of his lips and fingers going to work on both of your nipples. “Mmmmm,” you hummed.
Eddie pulled back, palming your breast as he looked at you as he said, “Sure did, sweet thing. I’ve dreamt about this for a while.”
You rested your hands on his shoulders, looking him deep in his eyes before bringing a hand up to gently and softly cup his cheek, whispering, “So have I.”
He dove right in, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a full on make out session as you moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding his leather jacket and denim vest off his shoulders, his Hellfire shirt on full display. 
The only time the two of you broke apart was for you to remove his shirt, his chest tattoos on full display. You looked at them, tracing over them, even though it almost caused fear in you to trace the spider tattoo.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, putting his hand over yours. “It’s just a tattoo.”
When you looked at him, he was softly smiling, which caused you to softly smile. “I know. They just creep me out.”
“I know what arachnophobia is, babe.” He smiled bigger before a small chuckle came from him causing you to roll your eyes.
Giggling, you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder. “ I know that, dork.” You slid your hands down his torso, making him breathe in a hiss before your fingers wrapped the top of his black jeans.
Eddie moved his hands to yours, bringing your hands to his belt. He never broke eye contact as he did. “Unbuckle it.”
You did as he asked, looking down to his belt, carefully undoing it and his button before sliding his zipper down.
He breathed out a deep breath, the pressure on his cock releasing a little.
Feeling brave, you decided to reach into his pants, wrapping his hardened length in your hand. “Fuck. I can barely touch my fingertips.” You chuckled, looking up at him, a look of disappointment crossing his features. “Don’t worry, babe. That’s a good thing. Means you’re big.” Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried to be seductive, which worked because Eddie sucked in a breath. “I feel like you’re being submissive.”
“Nah,” he said. “Just letting you take the reins for a moment, swee– fuck.”
Your hand moving up and down had a moan escaping Eddie’s throat, his head being thrown back.
“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart. That feels amazing.”
Leaning forward, you placed your lips to his Adam’s apple, moving down his sternum and stopping where you couldn’t reach anymore before looking back up at his face, an almost fucked out look crossing his features. “You look so pretty,” you whispered.
“I’ll show you pretty,” he said, squatting to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Get ready, princess. I’m gonna rock your fucking world.”
“Wha–” you asked, before gasping as your back met the table they had just played on, Eddie’s fingers grazing your sides before traveling down to the tops of your jeans. “Jesus, Eddie.”
“What do you want, princess?” he asked, skimming his lips across your stomach down to your jeans. Looking up at you with mischievous eyes through his lashes, he smiled a little, hearing and seeing your soft breaths quicken. “Tell me what you want. Tell me where you want me.”
“Mmm, on me,” you whispered.
As he unbuttoned your jeans, he whispered, “Where?” before kissing the imprint that the button left on your skin. 
Letting out a breath, you looked down at him and whispered his name, your eyes full of pleading, as well as trying to tell him something. When it finally hit him after a couple of seconds looking at you, his eyes went a little wide as he picked his head back up.
“Are you a vir–”
“No,” you shook your head, swallowing your nerves. “I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never… dirty talked before. The last guy didn’t, either. Well, with me, at least.”
Eddie nodded softly before looking back down at your skin, placing another soft to it. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, baby.” Another kiss as he unzipped your jeans. “I’ll take care of all that.”
When he tapped your outer thighs, you knew that was your queue to lift your hips, your nerves starting to show as you watched him remove your jeans, sliding them down your ankles… after sliding your shoes off, of course.
It was like he knew you wanted to close your knees, so before you could even think of doing it, he quickly placed his hands on the inner part of your knees, feeling your muscles tense. “Please don’t be shy, baby.”
He spread your legs a little further apart to slide his hands on the back part of your thighs, bringing them back around to your inner, essentially holding your thighs as he slowly dropped to his knees, bringing you further down the table.
“Tell me,” Eddie said, kissing the inner part of your knee. “Did those other guys worship you?” He watched as you shook your head, another kiss placed a little further down your thigh. “Well, shame on them, then. Because I’m gonna worship this pussy–” Kiss. “-like my life–” Kiss a little further down. “-depends on it.”
You went to say something, the words dying in your throat as a soft moan escaped your throat at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue licking a stripe up your core.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he whispered, licking another stripe, this time in between your lips. “You taste incredible.”
“Mmm, Eddie,” you whispered, bringing a hand to the top of his head, gently carding your fingers through the tendrils at the top of his head. “Right there.”
Eddie hummed, lapping at your core like a man starved. As he brought his lips to your clit, licking and sucking on it like it was his last meal, he let go of one of your thighs, bringing his fingers to your entrance. Releasing your clit, he gently rubbed it with his thumb, his fingers drawing big circles at your entrance. “You’re so wet for me,” he rasped. “I made you this wet?”
You giggled, gently scratching at his scalp. “You’re so stupid,” you whispered.
“That’s my girl,” he smiled, licking at your clit once again. He elicited a moan from you, your tossing back at the feeling of his fingers entering you. 
“Holy shit,” you all but whined. You could feel the stupid fucking smirk on his face as he pumped his fingers in and out of your core. “Oh, my god, don’t stop.”
That only egged him on further; his fingers moved faster, and it seemed like his tongue was moving faster as well. Eddie was in full concentration mode, your whimpers and moans sounding like heaven to him.
“Oh, shit,” you moaned, looking down at him, seeing nothing but the mop of brown curls you loved so fucking much. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum.”
No words. Nothing came out of his mouth but his tongue licking at your clit relentlessly.
One… two… three more licks and quick pumps of his fingers and you were gone. Gripping his hair as hard as you knew he liked from the horseplay you two would find yourselves in, you came all over his fingers, his tongue wanting a taste.
Your back arched at the feeling of his tongue inside of you as far it could reach, your taste on his tongue.
When he was sure you’d ridden through your orgasm, he kissed his way back up your stomach and sternum, his nose brushing against your chin before his lips found yours, kissing you and letting you taste yourself.
Looking all over your beautiful features when he pulled away, you licked your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, those eyes he loved so much, you hummed and whispered, “Yummy.”
“Shit, princess,” he murmured, hissing when you reached back down to his length, his member still hard as ever. “Goddamn, I can’t wait anymore.”
“Then fuck me, Eddie.” You guided him to your entrance, his hand coming up to hold yours on his length.
“I won’t be able to hold back, baby. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”
Nodding your head as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek, you said, “That’s okay. Give it to me, Eds.”
He kissed you as he pushed into you without warning, a loud gasp coming from your throat, your head tossing back as far as it could on the table.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, loving the full feeling you were getting. “You’re so fucking big.”
“You’re so fucking tight,” he gritted, holding back so much.
“Let go, Eddie, it’s okay. I can take it.”
Pulling his hips back, he looked down at where the two of you were connected before snapping his hips back into yours, a cry of pleasure meeting his ears.
“Fuck! Do it again.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled his hips back, snapping them back with yours, repeating the motion. “You feel so fucking good, baby. It was like this pussy was made just for me.”
“Yep, whatever you say,” you replied, voice shaky from the bounces your body was taking with each thrust of Eddie’s hips. “Shit, don’t stop. Mmmm, I’m almost there.” 
You went to touch your clit, a whimper escaping you at the feeling of Eddie’s finger circling your sensitive bud. “Just like that,” you breathed. “Don’t fucking stop.”
“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Eddie groaned. “F-fuck.”
“Cum, Eddie. Cum with me,” you cried out in pleasure.
“Are you–”
“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’m sure, just–” Moan. “Just cum, Eddie, just– oh, my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–” Another moan filled the air as your second orgasm shot through you, Eddie’s not far behind.
Not wanting to crush you, he rested his weight on his forearms by your head, his forehead resting on yours, both of your eyes closed and heavy breaths mingling. “That… was… amazing.”
“Sure as fuck was,” you agreed, releasing a breathy chuckle.
Eddie’s own breathy chuckle blew over your face before he sighed. Placing his lips on yours again, he took a breath through his nose before pulling slightly back with a small smack from yours lips disconnecting. “I have to pull out of you. I’m kinda growing soft here.”
Giggling, you nodded your head, saying, “Okay,” before whining at the loss of him filling you up. “I miss him already.”
“Who?”
“Your dick.”
He looked at you, confused before bursting out in laughter, your own joining him.
When the two of you were dressed and looking a little fucked out, you helped with his campaign books, carrying them with your own book and his blanket in one arm, the rest of his D&D stuff in his own arm, his free one wrapped around your shoulders, your own free arm wrapped around the middle of his back.
As the two of you walked back to his van, you couldn’t help but smile the whole time, happy that you finally got the boy you’ve been dreaming of.
“So,” Eddie said, after helping you into the passenger seat of his van. “What do you say to me getting high, and then us going to Benny’s for a bite?”
“Uhm, yes to the second as long as I meet my curfew, no to the first because you could actually get caught and I can’t have that.”
“Why not?” he asked, almost whining like a child.
“Because I just got you. I can’t risk losing you to something like weed.”
“But… it’s how I’m–”
“Able to help Wayne, and I adore you for that, but Eddie… it’s not smart to smoke and drive.”
“But - but -”
“No buts.”
Raising a brow at you, while turning his head slightly to the side, he said, “They’re for goats.”
You couldn’t help but grab onto his jacket, pulling him closer to you to press your lips against his, but not before giggling, “You’re so stupid.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
Additional Notes: i should've titled this you're so stupid 'cause they said it a lot, lol. so!, just know that if you come into my inbox and ask about you're so stupid, i will be referring to this fic, lol, unless i title another fic you're so stupid.
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Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​
If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.
Italics wouldn’t let me tag!
~~~
*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.
All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.
*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Posted on March 29, 2024
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scuderiasundays · 7 months
Text
better together
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summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌
words: 1,045
a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.
It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.
Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.
Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.
The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.
Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.
“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.
As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.
He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.
His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.
As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 
“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.
“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.
“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.
He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?
You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.
"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 
The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.
It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 
His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.
New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.
He replied right away.
I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?
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eddiesxangel · 2 months
Text
Let Me Be Your Goodnight | Rockstar!Eddie x Reader
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CW: angst, rough sex, possessive Eddie, female fingering, p in v (protected and unprotected) , creampie, biting, light choking, pet names, Eddie and Reader are fuck buddies, but Reader isn't necessarily a groupie? Mutual pining but Eddie is a fuckboi, heavily inspired by Temporary Fix by 1D lol. Not a happy ending?
WC: 4K
For my 1D babes this is for you 😏
His eyes were transfixed on you. There you were, front and centre, first row, directly in Eddie’s line of sight. Perfect. You were perfect. He wanted you the second he laid his eyes on you. Your cherry red lips are perfectly in sync with the lyrics falling off his lips. He knew he needed to have you.
He tried to find you after the show, but you were gone before security could reach you. You had slipped through his fingers.
Eddie couldn’t believe his luck when he saw you hours later during the after-party. There you were, across the bar, standing with somebody, but it was clear he didn’t know what you liked, but Eddie knew; he read you like a book. Your body language was not inviting, and the eye roll you gave when the guy leaned in and whispered something in your ear. He knew you didn’t want to talk to this guy any longer.
Remembering how your eyes trailed his sweaty muscles as he performed for the crowd. How you were making his leather pants tighter than when they put them earlier that night.
You watched as Eddie sauntered over to you, pushing the countless bodies, including the guy who was trying to take you home, to get to you.
“Hey gorgeous, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He leans on the bar, so close you’re almost touching.
“I’m sorry? who are you?” You twirl the straw in your cocktail.
“Feeling bratty tonight, aren’t we?”
You turn your back on him, flipping your hair over your shoulder, Eddie gets a whiff of your sultry perfume as you do. His eyes scanned your back, stopping at the hem of the tight, shiny black mini-skirt.
You feel Eddie walk up closer behind you, his breath cascading down your collarbone, his body heat radiating off of him like a furnace. You couldn’t help but react as his deep, raspy voice whispered in your ear.
“You know what I think, baby? I think you’re getting real tired of running that mouth of yours… maybe I can show you another way to use it.”
“Excuse you?” You snap.
“You know I saw you looking at me first.” He smirked.
“Who do-”
“And when I was on that stage, all I could think about was you waking up in nothing but my shirt, in my bed.” His hand trailed up the side of your leg and around to the hem of your skirt.
A small gasp leaves your lips as you let Eddie’s hand travel further towards your inner thighs that were clenched.
“You don’t have to tell me anything; I don’t have to read your mind… You’re soaked for me, and you have been since you saw me on stage; why else would you be front and centre, hmmm?”
The cocky prick knew your weakness, and your weakness was him.
“Eddie,” your body relaxes into him, and he removes his hand so it’s in a less compromising position.
“Oh, so the Princess does know who I am?”
“Shut up.” You were not very convincing; you were transfixed by him.
“If you're not hooked on anything right now, I can be your vice.” his plush lips grazed that spot on your neck he knew all too well.
Now, this was not the first time you let Eddie touch you. Any time he was in town, you ended up being pulled together like two magnets. You couldn’t help yourselves; you were addicted. But every time you say it’s the last, that it won’t happen again. That’s why you turned your back to him; if you saw those eyes, you knew you would, in fact, be waking up in his t-shirt.
A moan leaves your ruby-red lips as you feel his hand interlace with your own. Before you know it, you’re willingly being pulled by Eddie, and your lips are attached to his neck as he pulls you out of the club, trying to call a taxi.
A million lights flash as you exit the club, and paps and car headlights flash as he surprisingly doesn't cover your face like he usually would. You’ve seen him paps with dozens of other women; he’s always covering their faces, not wanting to show them off… but not you. Not tonight.
Lipstick is tattooed on Eddie’s throat, claiming him as your own. You couldn’t help it; there was something about Eddie that made you act like an animal. It wasn't the fame or the glitz or the glam or even the money, for that matter. It was Eddie, how he commanded the stage, how he carried himself, how he knew exactly what made you tic.
Eddie could hardly get into the car before he felt your body climb on top of him. Your skirt hiked up, and you straddled him in the back seat. Your hips ground into Eddie’s already hardening cock, and Eddie's hands shot up to your ass to keep you from moving.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Need you.”
“Did my baby miss me?”
You didn’t reply, how could you? Truthfully, Eddie was everything you wanted, but he wasn’t cut out for settling down. You knew there was another version of you in each city, and you couldn’t take the heartbreak.
Your lips latched on his neck once again, only this time you sucked the skin until it was black and blue. That could be his problem for his next girl tomorrow, but for right now, he will be yours tonight.
The ride to the hotel in NYC took as long as expected at two in the morning. The paps tried to follow you, but the taxi driver surprisingly lost their tail. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he pulled you into the hallways off the elevator. Finally, he was back in the hotel room. He wanted you so bad, even if it was temporary; he was desperate for you. You were his favourite; you could actually be someone to him if he would let you, but Eddie was stubborn. Love didn’t exist for Eddie; he knew that.
“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.”
“I need you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” he ruts his hips into you, pressing you further into the hotel room wall. His lips found your neck, and his hips ground onto you.
You needed Eddie’s hands; his talented fingers were pinning your hands down, but you wanted him to touch you; you needed him to touch you. You squirm under Eddie’s grasp, and he has you right where he wants you. Needy.
“Eddie, touch me already.” You were done with these games; you both were here for one reason. There is no need to beat around the bush or be timid or embarrassed about getting what you want. You wanted him to make you cum, and you were going to get it.
“There’s my girl, knows what she wants”
“Not your girl,” you moan as his fingers trail up your inner thigh.
“No?” Eddie cocks his head because in his mind, you were his favourite.
“Please, I know you, Eds.” You locked eyes. “Tell me to my face I’m the only girl you want... like you were balls deep in someone else yesterday.”
You were right; he couldn’t give you the answer he wanted, but he didn’t want it to be true.
“That’s what I thou-”
“You can own me,” Eddie quickly cut you off, “and we'll call this what you like.” His hands slipped under your panties and across your wet slit finding your swollen clit.
“Eddie!” You moan as your head falls back.
“Good girl, scream my name.” his thick, tattooed, ringed fingers slip past your folds and sink into your walls.
He watched your pretty red lips part as he worked his fingers up inside you, finding that spot deep inside you with ease. He knew your body, studied it, and now he was going to own it, even if it was just tonight.
You trembled below Eddie as his fingers pleasured you like no others could. This is why you keep coming back to Eddie. He knew how to work you, how to please you; he owned you; there was no denying.
“I’m coming!” You gripped his shoulders to brace yourself. It had been a while since Eddie, and you last got together, and he always could get you there quickly.
You needed to wipe that smug look off his face, so you kissed him so you didn’t have to look at him any longer. You push yourself off the wall and walk you and Eddie over to the bed.
Eddie fell back as you climbed on top of him. You needed to feel him under you, you wanted control, you wanted to be the one to give him the most mind-blowing sex of his life that any time he’s inside another girl, you’re the one he’s thinking of. No more temporary.
Grinding your hips down in Eddie's hard cock he lets out a whimper. The squeak of his leather pants against your core, heavy sighs and moans were the only sounds filling the room.
“You want me, Eddie?” You never used pet names with Eddie; it made things too real, and you couldn’t play into the fantasy that he was yours.
“Always, baby.” his chest rose and fell as he lay, and your fingers trailed down his stomach to the waistband of his pants.
“I don’t believe you.” You play with the happy trail leading toward what you want most.
“I’d say otherwise” Eddie cupped his hard cock, gesturing to how much he did in fact need you. You were the one, always.
You take his waistband between your fingers and yank his pants down. Unsurprisingly, he isn’t wearing underwear. His cock sprang free of the tight confines of his pants, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked painfully hard, and he looked desperate, needy, and beautiful.
“Tell me what you want, Eddie.”
“Already told you babygirl”
“Tell me again.”
“I want your sweet mouth on my cock; I want you to call me when you’re lonely when you can’t sleep,” he smirked, “You control me, baby, even if it’s just tonight.”
“Shut up” You gripped his hard cock in your hand and rolled your tongue over the tip before taking him as far as you could go. You didn’t let up, you didn’t slow down, you went for it, all in.
You knew he was full of shit, and you wanted to prove to him that he truly was missing out on the best thing that could happen to him.
“Shit, shit, shit, just like that, fuck, that mouth of yours is too good” he gripped your soft hair in his hands.
You worked him to his breaking point, his cock twitched, and you pulled off immediately,
“What the” Eddie stopped mid-sentence as he watched you slowly strip in front of him. His chocolate doe eyes widen as he watches your clothing come off piece by piece. Your exposed skin was calling him; he needed to feel your soft thighs warming his ears, your perfect tits cupped in his hands.
Your last article of clothing fell to the floor, and Eddie's eyes burned into you. He watched as you bent down to pick up his pants. He watched as you found his wallet, pulled it out, and opened it up to find the sealed golden foil he kept inside for times such as these.
You toss his wallet to the side and slowly crawl back to him.
Teasingly, you slowly unwrap the condom, watching Eddie drool as you do. You smirk, knowing you’re making him wait and squirm beneath you.
“Hurry up, baby girl.” He wants to grab the condom from your hand and do it himself so he can throw you around how he likes, but he also wants you to do it; he likes not having to be in control the whole time.
Unlike the others, you knew how Eddie wanted you and how he needed you.
“Patients Ed’s,” you cooed in his ear as your swollen lips trailed down his neck before you sat up to roll the condom on finally. His cock was leaking precum, so you dipped your head down one last time so you could lick it up. Once it was cleaned and clear, you swiftly rolled it down onto his throbbing member and positioned yourself over it so you could sink down.
Riding Eddie was always your favourite pastime; the way he filled you and brushed up against your walls, nothing could compare to that feeling he gave you.
You both let out a moan as you fully enveloped him. Eddie reaches up to grasp your hips to help you move with him. Sure, he loved you on top, in control, but he's only a man; he can't help but fulfill the need to thrust up into you.
Your thighs were burning, but you didn't care. The way Eddie was making you feel was all-consuming. His long hard cock hit that perfect spot every time you bounced down onto him. Skin slapping skin, your breasts bouncing in his face, your pretty mouth left agape in pleasure.
"That's it, bunny. Do you like being my little bunny, bouncing in my cock? This is the only cock that can make you feel this good isn't it?"
You didn't reply; you were too focused on the burning in your thighs and the pleasure building in your core.
Your hand slinked down between you and Eddie so you could rub your clit, giving you enough so your second orgasm of the night could build and build until Edie swatted your hand away.
"Answer me, Bunny," Eddie gritted through his teeth.
"Not your bunny, not yours." You didn't slow down; you only picked up speed.
"Wrong answer," Eddie was annoyed you never played into his little games like the others do.
You felt Eddie steady your waist, stopping you from bouncing, and flip you backwards so you were flat on your back, head almost falling off the foot of the bed.
You let out a startled yelp as Eddie yanks you by your ankles so you are closer to him.
He waists not another second to thrust back into your wet cunt.
"Fuck Eddie!" you cried as he roughly fucks into you. He had your legs pinned by your ears; you didn't even know you were that flexible.
"What was that gorgeous? You're not mine? I think you are, even if it's just tonight." he sneered.
A chain of curses left your mouth as Eddie pounded into you over and over and over again. His large hand travelled up to your chest, surprisingly not resting on your swollen breast but where your heart was.
You were slipping; you were feeling the weakness of your judgment unfold as your impending orgasm grew.
"You're so tight, baby girl; you're so tight for me; I can feel how close you are. You're gripping my cock so good." Eddie spoke as he stroked your hair out of your face. His actions were such a contradiction to how he was abusing your cunt.
"More, Eddie!" you pant.
"No, you know my cock is good enough to make you cum. You've been naughty. This is all you're getting unless you tell me you're mine." His hand slid up from where it was resting on your chest up to your throat, squeezing it hard enough that you still could breathe, but his fingers dug into you so hard there might be a mark left tomorrow.
Fuck him.
"No!" you spit.
"Then this is all you get. He leaned back, releasing your throat from his hands and replaced it with each of your ankles. He steadied himself before jackhammering into your cunt.
You let out a cry, and Eddie's hips slapped hard into you, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. The tip of his tick-long cock grazing your spot.
Eddie was right; his cock was all that you needed because you were coming in seconds, and he wasn't too far behind. Your body felt like it was dripping fire as your orgasm took over your mind and body.
Eddie fucking loved the way your cunt squeezed down on him every time he made you cum with his cock alone. He knew it was a rarity; he was so proud of himself each time.
He fell on top of you after that marathon of sex you both participated in. He pulled out, discarded the condom, and then went to crawl back into bed with you, but you were already up and halfway dressed.
"Where do you think you are going?" he blocks the door with his lean, naked frame.
"Home to sleep, it's three thirty. I'm tired."
"You think I'm letting you go out by yourself in the middle of the night? Looking like that?" He raises his brow.
Suddenly, the euphoria of the sex you just had completely drains out of you.
"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"
"It means I'm not letting you, the most beautiful woman I've ever met, go out onto the streets where who knows what is out there so you can get snatched up. No way, you're spending the night; I'll sleep on the floor for all I care. It's not safe right now."
What the fuck was happening? Eddie always threw you out once you were done? And did he call you beautiful? Maybe you did, in fact, fuck his brains out?
"Uh, are you feeling okay?" You hold the back of your hand up to feel if he has a fever because what?
"I'm fine but won't be if you leave." He took your wrist off his head and looked you in the eyes.
"Fine, but you promised me a t-shirt." You decided to cave based on your better judgment. "And you don't have to sleep on the floor. I think we are way past that." You turned to walk back to the bed, slowly stripping for Eddie once more.
Eddie made his way over to the closet and pulled out his favourite shirt to give to you.
"Thanks." You caught it when he tossed it to you. You slip over your head before you turn to the bathroom to get unready the best you can.
Thankfully, the hotel came with a fresh toothbrush, and Eddie had cleanser and moisturizer you could borrow. You didn't bother brushing your hair. You just fixed it with your fingers and then exited the bathroom.
Eddie had just come in from the balcony after having a cigarette when you walked back out.
He drank you in; his shirt hugged you in all the right places. Your face was bare and fresh, but the hickeys he had left on your neck were raw; to him, you had never been more beautiful.
You watched him take you in, then hesitated before getting into the bed.
"Uh, what side do you want me to take?" suddenly nervous about sleeping in the same bed as him.
"I usually sleep on the right,"
"Good, I'm more of a left girl myself." God, that was lame.
"Meant to be," Eddie smirked before turning down the bed.
You tried not to read too much into that comment as you crawled in, lying down and facing away from him. You were stiff and didn't understand what had changed between now and all the other one-night stands.
"If you wanted to be the little spoon, all you had to do was ask baby." His strong arm wrapped around your middle and pulled your back flush to his chest.
Was Eddie Munson cuddling you? What kind of twilight zone have you entered?
"Um, Eddie?"
"Yeah, gorgeous?" He spoke as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You could feel his cock hardening against your ass, and there goes your train of thought. All semblance of a sentence was gone from your lips because Eddie's dick was pressed up against your backside.
You can't help it when your pussy floods itself all over again. You can't help it when your ass starts to grind into him.
"Greedy girl, you wanna go again?"
"You started it," You point out.
"Can't get enough of ol'Eddie, can ya, babygril?"
You let out a whine of frustration. You were supposed to be on your way home, but instead, here you are, begging for Eddie's cock once again because you're weak when it comes to him.
"I'll take that as a yes."
You don't let Eddie speak anymore before you take his cock and align it when your dripping entrance.
"Wait, are you sure?" Eddie asked; you never fucked without a condom before.
You didn't give him a verbal response; you only dragged his tip through your wet folds, confirming that this was what you wanted.
You opened your legs a bit wider to let Eddie glide in easily. Another wave of wetness pulsed out of your pussy as the velvety skin of Eddi's cock brushed up inside of you.
You feel Eddie's teeth sink into your shoulder as his hips slowly thrust into you. Your ass pressing into his bush with each thrust.
"Oh, Eddie!" You cried at the pain of his teeth marking you but also the euphoria that his bare cock was giving you. Eddie pulled you in closer, his hand wrapped around your middle, tweaking your hardened nipple under the sift you were wearing.
"Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, " Eddie spoke with each thrust.
"Yours, yours, yours yours," You agreed, fianllly you gave in.
He then gave in and finally played with your clit as he trusted in you again and again. It was slow and sloppy; he fell out a few times, but it was sex like you hadn't had with Eddie before.
Before, it was always rough and hard, a temporary fix to get off and go. But this was different. This was like he was fucking you as if he cared for you as a person. Not just another one in his little black book
Your mouth hung open as silent screams tried to come out of your lungs. You were speechless.
Eddie didn't say much either, which wasn't normal for him, but it didn't feel right at the moment. He wanted to endure the way your body wrapped around him. The way your cunt tightened when the pad of his finger grazed your swollen clit.
Before you knew it, you were coming undone all over Eddie once again. Your cum flooded over Eddie in a warm wet embrace, and that had him trying to pull out, but he wasn't fast enough. His cum was spurting up into you as his cock spasmed inside of you.
"Holly shit," He panted. Never had Eddie had such intimate sex before, and he didn't want to go back.
"Wow," you said when you started coming back to reality. You could feel Eddie's seed leaking out of you, and you needed to go get cleaned up, but you didn't think you could move.
Eddie peppered soft kisses along your neck and over your cheek before falling back exhausted.
"Good night, gorgeous." He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep instantly.
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The next afternoon, Eddie woke up to find he was alone. A pang of disappointment filled his chest before he spotted the note on your pillow.
"We need to talk."
That was all it said, followed by your phone number.
Eddie's stomach dropped while reading it, and he wasn't sure why, so he chose to ignore it and move on with his day...
You hadn't heard from Eddie for about a month, and it was killing you. Had he not seen the note?
You refused to be the one to reach out; you would not be that girl. So it surprised you when Eddie called five weeks later when he was back in New York.
"Hey gorgeous"
"Eddie, we need to talk."
"Don't think we will be doing much talking with your lips wrapped around my dick" You could practically see the smirk on his face. In any other instance, that probably would have made you roll your eyes and give in, but this was too important to skim over.
"Eddie, I'm pregnant."
Eddie doesn't respond, and you hear the disconnected tone on the other end of the line.
Tagging those who seemed interested:
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readychilledwine · 3 months
Note
hi, i’ve recently found your blog + wow, you’re writing is amazing! i have an idea for i would like to request, i hope that’s okay.
reader has just came home from book club w nesta, gwen and emerie at the house of wind. reader is mated to az - they’re been mated for about a few years. still reader has met nesta, reader almost always has her nose in a book - smutty book to be exact. reader is kinda embarrassed by this bc she wasn’t one to read smutty books before meeting nesta. az is starting to question why reader is always so invested in a book or why he has hardly seen reader for the last couple of weeks. az picks up the book reader is currently reading behind reader’s back & starts to get a little jealous maybe? az may confront reader about the book? i’m not to sure about the ending, but i do know az would do something like asking reader what their favorite scene & they could reenact it or something of that nature. i could totally see az teasing reader just a little bit as well.
i love for you to put your own spin on this. thank you 🩷🩷🩷
Book Boyfriend
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Summary - Azriel has gotten a little tired of your reading habits.
Warnings - Az is a kind of a dick
A/n - I went the spicy mad Az route, and don't worry. Per Liz tradition, it's open for another part.
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Azriel could have burned the damn book in your hands. You hadn't set it down in 3 days.
3 fucking days of you and Nesta curled into each other, drinking Rhysand's expensive wine, reading that stupid thick book.
He knew you loved to read. Books and book related gifts had been his go-to gifts for you since the mating bond snapped 100 years ago. But the obsession since Ness was made was unbearable.
He never had to fight for your attention until now. He felt a shoulder brush his. "Ah, they're in the "We don't want Cassian to know we're reading smut," pose."
Azriel froze, feeling down the bond and trying to get to your end. You had it locked down, but there was a soft blush on your and Nesta's cheeks. "How do you know its smut?"
Cassian sighed. "It's all they read, Azzy. Have you not noticed?"
His shadows darkened. You had hardly kissed or touched him in 3 days in favor of a smut novel? He could show you things, do things, most authors would only think of in their sick dreams.
He felt himself paling under Cassian's gaze. Was he not pleasing you anymore? Was he not performing to your expectations? You always seemed content, spent, and overjoyed when you two had sex.
"I need a fucking drink." Azriel stormed away. Slamming the door to your shared chambers shut. He took on look at the crystal whiskey decanter and decided to drink until you came to the room.
Azriel woke up to soft footsteps and the feeling of a blanket getting laid across him. He heard you sigh, falling into bed, then that faint creak of an unbroken in book spine opening.
Meaning you had a new book. A new smut novel to ignore him with. A new fake boyfriend to imagine between your thighs.
Azriel stood on shaking legs, and he went to bed. Watching as you snapped to book shut and set it on your nightstand title down. "Did I wake you?"
"Yup." He curled into the bed facing away from you. It was childish, but if you weren't happy, you could have just told him instead of replacing him.
When he woke up, raging headache and all, you were gone. But the book wasn't. He reached over and grabbed it, cracking the spine out of spite. 55 chapters in, and Azriel was bored. If he tried to fuck you on a table covered in paint, you'd glare at him about the mess. About getting paint 1000 places you shouldn't.
So why the hell were you reading a book about it?
It was late into the evening when you returned. Azriel had finished the book, marking specific things he wanted to confront you about. He didn't stand as the door opened, didn't greet you as you came in with a few bags. You were all smiles, dolled up in a pretty dress. Your hair was loosely curled, and makeup was done.
"Where the fuck have you been?" It came out as harsh as he expected it to. "I take a week off and you have hardly spent time with me."
He watched you jump, eyes going wide as you took a few steps back. "Nesta wanted to go into town. We lost track of time. I-"
"Lost track of time? Aren't you the female who taught Rhysand how to properly track the stars and sun?" He stalked toward you, book in hand. "Did you two go to find more vitriol like this?" He held it up, watching as your cheeks flushed and you went to reach for it.
"Azriel-"
He lifted it above his head. "You haven't touched me in weeks. You've kissed me maybe once. Hell, yesterday you were content to leave me on the damn couch. I can see why though, you're sitting here getting your needs met by some fictional fae lord instead of me. If you aren't happy anymore just tell me."
Shock hit your face slowly, mind whirling and emotions pouring into him from the bond. "Azriel, it's a book. Not another male."
That wasn't enough for him. "And how many times have you pleasured yourself to this book? Thinking about the main character between your thighs?"
You sighed. "To that one? Not a single time. I haven't gotten to read it and you already damaged the spine." The sadness in your voice made him pause, lowering the book until you could grab it.
You were always so gentle with your books, caring for them and placing them somewhere safe. Bookmarks never sat in them for too long out of fear of damage. He watched you stroke the spine, going to the bookshelf and placing it in the spot it would belong in to match your color based organization.
"Is this really about a book, or is something else going on?" You wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say his name. He could hear the soft tremble. "I'm sorry I made a friend. I'm sorry I've been spending time with Nesta instead of you. But she gets it. She gets how feeling like you don't belong in this family feels," a stab to his chest. "She gets how feeling out of place among you all feels," the stab turning into a gapping wound that had him leaning against the couch. "She gets what it's like to have a mate that is busy and expects you to be here waiting."
You had ripped his heart out. In 100 years, this had never come up. There had never been signs. "Y/n-"
He watched in silence as you held a hand up, moving to grab some clothes and a hair brush. "I'm going to sleep in a guest room tonight. This could have been turned into something beautiful, Az. We could have used these books to inspire fun in our bedroom," your hand ran along that damaged book. "Instead, you disrespected my belongings, accused me of an unthinkable act, and made this about your fragile ego."
You left the room, silence falling in the wake. Azriel stared at the book he had damaged. It was a first edition. A soft shade of blue with swirls of darkness. He walked to it, head hung in shame.
It was an escape. A way for you to cope with your feelings. No different than him training, and he had ruined it.
And now, he checked his calendar, he had 4 days to make it up to you before he, Cassian, and Nesta were gone for a month.
Leaving you alone all over again with nothing but an empty house and a book boyfriend.
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General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
💕 As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist💕
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sinsandsweetness · 10 months
Note
Wellllllll…… I just read one Rec from someone and holy. Stepdad Rick isn’t my thing but still hot. I was thinking what if it was Shane instead. Or Daryl. Sneaking around behind Rick’s back. But ugh, Rick is so hot tho. Decisions decisions. More like Dad’s best friend maybe?
now that’s hot as hell. Idk who Dad would be but best friend trope could work for any combination possible I would think… (all of them!? 🙈 short of a orgy, I can’t see either Dixon putting up with Shane even for something like that but hey)
been thinking about this every hour since it appeared in my inbox… (Shane is my guilty pleasure fr. would let him do disgusting things to me)
I think I’m seeing your vision… lemme know what you think💗
PICK YOUR POISON
(Rick & Shane & Daryl x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+, smut, alcohol consumption, smoking, references of sex, multiple partners, the boys are kinda pervs but it’s ok cause ur legal and this is fiction <3 2.1k word count
You open the door to the garage and make your way down the stairs. Not even bothering to slip any shoes on. Your mom keeps the epoxy floors absolutely pristine, so there’s really no reason. Plus, your toenail polish is still a little tacky. Bright, bubble gum pink polish and a silver toe ring adorning your foot. The smell of liquor and smoke has filled the garage. Accompanied by the deep, rugged voices and dry laughs coming from your fathers closest friends.
“You know mom hates it when you smoke in the house.” You say all matter of fact, leaning up against the bar-tops, marble counter. You can feel your tank top strap slipping down your shoulder. But the animalistic looks coming from your dads three closest friends, force you to let it drop. To let them see.
Your father puts his cigarette out in the ash tray on the bar. Rolling his eyes at you. “Well good thing we’re in the garage then.”
You ignore his attitude.
“Mom needs you.”
“For what?”
“To drop her off at Cindy’s.”
He seems irritated. But all five of you can hear the rain. There’s no way any half decent husband should let his wife walk to her monthly book club meeting in this weather.
“Just- keep your mouth shut about the smokes. And grab everyone another drink. Make sure they don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” You father jokes, ruffling up Daryl’s hair on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.
You wave an innocent goodbye as you watch him through the garage door windows, backing out of the driveway. Your mother in the passenger seat, smiling sweetly at you.
“Well… whatcha drinkin’?” You ask Rick, who’s sat in the middle. Glass empty, with a lone, melting ice cube clinking around in the bottom.
“Rum and coke.” He answers, licking his lips.
“Spiced?” You ask. A flirty smile playing on your face as you bite your bottom lip.
They’re all staring. Jaws clenched and breathing slowly.
You know what you’re doing. You can tell by the way they’re all looking at you. You can practically see the wheels turning in their brains.
They shouldn’t be thinking this way about their friends daughter. About their best friends little girl. Well… not so little anymore. You’d just turned 21. Hell, they were at the party. Giving you the exact same looks they’re giving you right now.
The ones they definitely shouldn’t be.
But they are.
They’re thinking about your thin, frilly, pyjama shorts, and how they can see the purple g string pulled up over your hips. How they can see your belly ring through the fabric of your tank top, and imagining what it would feel like against their lips as they kiss their way down your stomach. And you know they’re thinking about bending you over the bar counter and taking turns at fucking you until they hear the sound of your dads diesel pulling into the driveway. How you’d have to play pretend for your father, ignoring the fact that your panties are soaking through with three different men’s cum, and maybe even a mix of your own. The salty liquids threatening to drip down your inner thigh as you politely excuse yourself from the garage. Coming up with any bullshit excuse to go lay on your bed and rub your clit until you’re seeing stars. Imagining each of their faces in between your legs, spreading you open and eating you up.
You know they’re thinking it, because you are too. It’s the only thing you can think about in this moment, while pouring Rick a double spiced rum and coke. Taking a sip and then handing it him. Making sure your fingers touch.
When you turn to ask Shane what he wants, he gets up. Insisting that you won’t know how to make an old fashioned. You only just turned 21 after all. You probably haven’t even had one before.
But he’s wrong. They’re your dads favourite and you’d been making them for him since you were 16. But you didn’t tell Shane that. Instead you let him walk around the bar, come up behind you and press himself against your back. Letting a tiny gasp escape at the feeling of his, very hard, cock pressing into your bum. Pushing you even further against the counter. His chest is warm against you. And his hands are big and calloused as he guides your own, pouring the perfect amount of bitters, simple syrup and bourbon over a huge, king sized ice cube that he’d retrieved from the freezer.
Finally, taking a slice of orange, meticulously cut up and organized in little containers on the bar top. It was something your mother was always very fond of; organizing the liquors and the garnishes, ensuring that your father could host a proper poker night or barbecue. Or whatever the fuck they stayed up all night doing in their little man cave. Not knowing that you were upstairs, awake and playing with your favourite vibrator, listening to their rock music through your bedroom floor.
“And then you twist it, like this…” Shane’s lips are actually brushing your ear. And you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His free hand moves to your waist as he tosses the orange peel in the drink, lifting it up and bringing the cold glass to your lips.
“Try it.” He says. And though you can’t see him because he’s still behind you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.
You take a sip. A small one. Immediately scrunching your face at the two men still sitting across you. Their lips curl into an amused smile as they watch you swallow the amber liquid.
“Not my favourite.” You whisper as Shane leans back. Only for a second before he’s turned you around and trapped you once more, back to the bar this time.
“Well we did forget one thing,” He says, reaching over to a jar on the counter. Maraschino cherries. Your favourite.
“And I know how much you like these.” He teases, referring to all the cherries he caught you adding to your piña coladas at a neighbors pool party only a couple weeks ago.
He dips a single cherry in the drink. Taking it by the stem and lifting it to your mouth. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around it. The bitter taste of the bourbon on the fruit doesn’t last long. A sweet, sugary syrup bleeds over your tastebuds as you bite into the cherry. And a moan manages to escape your throat. It’s quiet. You think maybe it was subtle enough to go unnoticed. But the smile on Shane’s lips and the dry laugh coming from behind you, tell you that it didn’t.
Shane is still pushed up against you, cock strained in his jeans and pressed right against your stomach. His hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay against the counter. And the way he’s looking down at you. Fuck, the way they’re all looking at you. Watching you start to squirm under their gaze.
“It’s good.” You swallow. Trying to maintain a confident, big girl attitude. But truthfully, you just want them to peel your clothes off, and let you melt into their arms as you cum all over their cocks.
“Daryl’s drink is still empty, sweetheart.” Rick’s gravelly voice pulls you back.
“Right.”
Shane gives your hip one last squeeze before he walks back to his barstool. Next to Rick. They cheers quietly and sip on their drinks. Watching intently as you try to compose yourself.
“What’s your poison?” You turn to the last man, lighting what was probably his second or third cigarette of the night. Glancing up at you and taking a draw. Slowly inhaling and exhaling. And though your mother was not a fan, you fucking loved it. You wanted to crawl onto his lap and have him blow the smoke right between your lips as you rode his cock, letting the other two men watch and touch themselves to the sight of you getting off on another guy.
But you didn’t.
“Just a beer, sunshine.” He pushes his empty glass forward for you. You grab it and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a brand new, frosted mug from the freezer.
“Which one?”
“Bud’s fine.”
You grab a bottle and skillfully pour it into the mug, coming around the bar this time to hand it to him. Intentionally placing yourself between him and Rick, reaching over and setting the glass in front of him.
To no one’s surprise, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Rick’s fingers tracing dangerously close to the thin band of your panties.
“Those are really bad for you, y’know.”
You get bold again. Stepping onto the foot rest of Rick’s barstool, and taking a seat right on his lap. The hand on your back only helping guide you on to him. Quickly finding its way around your waist as you make yourself comfortable.
Daryl only grunts. Hiding a smile at your silly comment. He’d seen you smoke. Hell, he’d snuck out of multiple dinner parties to have one with you.
“You gonna share?” You ask.
Hesitantly he hands it over, and you take it with two fingers. Taking a long drag in and then turning to face Rick again, before you slowly exhale. Trying to focus the smoke onto his lips more than anything.
“What the hell would your father think if he could see you right now?” Shane asks, leaning back in his chair and palming the hard on, still evident in his jeans.
“Think he’d probably try and beat you’re asses.” You say. And while you’re answering Shane, your focus is solely on Rick. The scruff on his face. His bright blue eyes, taunting you and begging you to lean in. Just an inch closer so that he can catch your lips.
“Think he’d win?” Rick asks, glancing down at your own lips.
“Not a chance.” You smile.
He closes the space between you, and you taste rum on the tongue that traces yours. Rick’s hand going to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you blindly try to put the cigarette out on the ashtray. You start to move. Trying to maneuver your position so that you’d have a leg on either side of him, straddling his very apparent bulge. But right as you start to moan against his mouth, you hear the truck pull up and park. Practically jumping off of Rick and standing in between him and Daryl’s barstools. Fixing your hair as the heat rises to your cheeks. The men chuckle at your flustered appearance. Waiting for their friend to enter through the side door of the garage.
“Hi dad.” You say, smiling politely and pulling your tank top down to cover the strip of skin visible where it had previously rode up.
“Hey, hun. Glad to see they weren’t too much trouble for ya.” You father aproaches and slaps a hand on Shane’s back. Sitting down next to him and grabbing the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.
“Y’wannanother drink, daddy?” You ask. Daryl clears his throat. And you see Ricks eyes go wide as Shane tries to hide his smile.
“Please. Old fashioned, darling. Y’want some of that pink stuff we found last week? Bubbly… something or other. It’s in the fridge.”
You watch Shane the whole time that you make the old fashioned. Clearly showing him that you knew exactly how your dad liked it. Carefully placing the cocktail on the counter in front of them.
“Thanks doll.” Your dad says, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Reaching over the counter and handing one to Rick who lights it. Watching you the whole time. Tendrils of smoke, floating up to the ceiling of the garage. You turn around. Bending over and being sure to stay searching for the bottle of rosé about thirty seconds longer than you really needed to. You pour a glass as the men discuss what the next move was. What they should do for the night. Considering it’s still a work night, and they all have a supply run pretty early in the morning.
“You wanna play some cards, sweetie?” Your dad asks. You scrunch your nose at him, taking a nice long sip of your sparkling wine.
“What? You got somewhere better to be?” Shane teases.
You huff a semi-annoyed breath, looking around for a spare stool. Even though you already knew there were only 4. Ricks eyes glimmer as he pats his left thigh, inviting you back on.
To your surprise, your dad pays you no mind, already starting to shuffle the deck of cards as you hesitantly take your seat back on top of Rick. Loving the way his hand curls around your thighs and tugs you even further on top of him. And the the way that Shane looks a little jealous that he hadn’t offered first. And you’re especially loving the way Daryl shifts on his stool just the tiniest bit closer, so that his leg grazes yours every now and then.
“All right, here’s the rules…” You hear your dad starts to explain, already dealing you each some cards. But you don’t hear him. You don’t even look in his direction. You’re way too focused on the taste of Rick that lingers on your lips, and the way your clit is actually fucking pulsing. Begging for attention. And truthfully, your mind can’t help but wander, thinking about what might have happened if your dad had taken any longer to get back home.
part 2
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(I’m picturing readers dad as Tobin in Alexandria. Someone like that at least. With a Carol-esque mother. But picture whoever you’d like! Just thought I’d share what I was kinda thinking…)
taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 4 months
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White Rabbit
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Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Summary: Rafe goes to Barry for help with his “pouge problem” but he gets more help than he bargained for when he meets Barry’s cousin in the most unsuspecting way. He can’t stay away from her, despite Barry’s protests, especially when she’s just as unhinged as he is. Takes place during season 2 episode 4 “Homecoming”. Wk: 6.9k.(oops)
Warnings: Gun violence(reader shoots a guy but doesn’t kill him), cocaine use(both reader and rafe), Barry is not super stoked about R and Rafe being into each other, unprotected sex, oral (m & f), choking, hair pulling, face fucking, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, unhinged reader, spit kink, digration, daddy kink, a lil spanking, biting, Rafe & R are obsessed with each other, R has the nickname “bunny” & is implied to be alternative, her outfit is described but other than that no physical descriptions. Lmk if I missed any please! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: This is my first time ever writing for Rafe, so it might not be the best ever but I fell for this man so hard and I just needed to write him with an unhinged girl. Shout out to my girl @babygorewhore for not only beta reading but hyping me up/brainstorming with me through this entire fic. I might make this into a series of some sort. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!✨🖤
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Rafe slammed his truck door shut as he walked up to Barry’s porch, scoffing when he saw him sitting there with his feet propped up while he read a book.
“Hey, you got my shit?”
“Shit, you’re early.” Barry closes his book and sets it down on the table in front of him, a condescending smirk spreading across his lips.
“Do you have my shit or not, man?” Rafe groans as he plops his large body down onto the rundown cushion of one of the porch chairs.
“Yeah, I got yo shit.” Barry chuckles, pulling the baggy from his pocket and tossing it on the table. “You got my money?”
“Yeah.” Rafe pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slaps it into his hand before grabbing the baggy so he can make himself line. He snorts it, letting out a deep breath after. “I need a piece too.”
“Hooohoooo!! You need a piece? Country Club Killer now, huh?” Barry laughs, his hand coming down to slap his knee.
“Don’t!!” Rafe slams his hand on the table. “Mess with me right now.”
“Aight, what the hell you need a piece for?”
“John B is fucking back.”
“John B is fucking dead dude.”
“Nah man, I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, and just now Top saw him in town with my sister scoring beer.”
“FUCK!!!!” Barry kicks the table, sending it flying a few feet away. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin me? I’m done playing with these kids bruh.”
Barry kicks himself up from his seat, walking over to a locker on the side of the porch. He enters the combination before he pulls out a gun and starts to load it.
“You wanna be done with those little shits once and for all? You’re gonna need a lot more than just a piece. You gotta start going at this shit like a soldier.” He spins the barrel, clicking it into place before handing the gun to Rafe.
“You do this, you know I’ll take care of you, alright? You won’t be doing this shit for nothing man I’ll -“
“YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” A male voice came booming from behind the house.
“IF YOU AREN’T NOW, YOU FUCKING WILL BE!” Another voice followed, but this one was unmistakably female.
“Dude, what the fuck was that? Is that chick okay? Should you like - I don’t know - deal with that or some shit?” Rafe’s blue eyes scan the other man’s face for signs of distress but it was almost like if he hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even noticed.
“Nah bro, that’s my cousin. She’s got it, stop trippin. We doin’ this or not?”
There’s a loud crash and then he hears the girl's voice again.
“I TOLD YOU TO GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!”
“Dude I’m gonna go check it out, that doesn’t sound good.” Rafe isn’t sure why he really gives a shit if this random chick who he hasn’t even seen is alright or not, maybe he’s just high and paranoid. Either way his curiosity gets the best of him and he starts walking towards the back of Barry’s place.
“She doesn’t need your help pretty boy, trust me.” Barry snorts and shakes his head as he begrudgingly follows him.
When Rafe rounds the corner the sight he sees is far from what he was expecting. The man who he heard yelling was shorter than him but more built, probably middle aged, he wore a white tank top and black board shorts and the look in his eyes told him that he was definitely one of Barry’s customers or less reliable dealers. The girl on the other hand? You were half his size, your hair in two braids with ribbons tied at the ends of them, you were wearing a tiny little baby pink tank top and black spandex shorts that barely covered her ass. You had combat boots on your feet that had little white ruffle socks sticking out of the top of them, but what was most shocking? You were holding a Glock in one of your small hands, and the collar of the man’s tank top was gathered in the other. You were standing on your tiptoes whilst also pulling the man down so he was face level with you, the Glock held to his head.
“I said, get on your fucking knees mother fucker, you got a hearing problem or some shit?” You growl at the man and it sends shivers down Rafe’s spine. You were beautiful. He watches as you shove the Glock into the man’s temple and ram your boot clad heel into his thigh causing him to fall to his knees with a grunt.
“Much better.” You smile as you tap his cheek with the gun before bringing it back to the side of his head. “Now, where the fuck is my fucking money?”
“I told you! I told you I don’t fucking have it right now I just need a little time!” The man’s voice is shaky now, his eyes traveling between you and the gun held to his head.
“Time? This isn’t a fucking loan service! Get me my money by tomorrow, or you’re fucked!” Your eyes are filled with fire and you let out a dry laugh.
“What’re you gonna do? Send Barry after me? Where is he at? He knows I always pay, just let me talk to hi-“ He’s cut off abruptly when you hit him across the cheek with the gun.
“SHUT UP!! You’re not fucking talking to Barry, you’re talking to me. If you don’t get my money you aren’t going to have to deal with him, you’re going to have to deal with me. Which I promise you don’t fucking want.” Rafe watches as you lean down into the guy's face, your eyes boring into his, a sinister smile paints your lips, and he isn’t even ashamed of the fact that he felt his cock stir in his pants at your display of dominance over this man twice your size. “Got it??”
“I don’t know how you expect me to get that amount by tomorrow I-“ The man grunts when you hit him in the face with the gun again, his face whipping to the side.
“I said, got it?” You hold the gun between his eyes, your smile never faltering.
“Yeah - yeah! I got it! I got it! Can I go now!?” The man holds his hands by his head in surrender, seemingly not wanting to argue with you further.
“I fucking mean it asshole, tomorrow, by sunset.” You glare at him momentarily before your smile returns, tapping his cheek with the gun again before turning to walk off.
“You aren’t gonna do shit bitch, you’re nothing without that little gun.”
Rafe’s blue eyes widen as he watches the man’s hand reach out and grab for your Glock. He subconsciously takes a step forward in your defense but soon realizes maybe you really don’t need help. Your body whips around, pulling the gun from the guy's reach and shooting him in the foot all in one motion. He screams out in pain, his hands grabbing onto his foot as he falls to the ground.
“Bring me my fucking money. Tomorrow. Or you’re going to be in a lot more pain than that.” You crouch down and spit in the guy's face before walking over him and into the house, letting the door slam shut behind you. Rafe stands there with his dick half hard and his jaw hanging open as he stares at the closed door you just disappeared behind.
“I told you she fuckin’ had it, and don’t even fuckin’ think about it, country club.” Barry’s voice snaps him out of his trance.
“Wha-? Think about what?”
“I see how you’re fuckin’ lookin at her dude, that’s like my sister in there. You stay your messy ass away from her, aight?”
“We should go check on her…” Rafe ignores Barry’s warning, walking towards the house despite his protests.
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You let out an agitated groan as you flop down on the couch and toss your Glock on the cushion next to you. You grab a little clear baggy off the coffee table and sprinkle some of the powder onto the small mirror in front of you, using the random gift card you found in your wallet to push a portion of it into a straight line. You grab the rolled dollar bill sitting on the mirror and bring it up to your nose so fucking ready for this line after dealing with that shit head, but right when you bend over the front door slams open, causing you to jump back. Your foot hits the table and the movement makes a mess of your line. You let out a curse under your breath, your eyes rising to glare at your intruder.
You expect Barry, or maybe that fucking idiot really did want to lose a finger today. But instead of the brown eyes of your cousin, or the bloodshot hazel ones of your unreliable dealer, your eyes lock with piercing blue ones. You have to physically stop yourself from gasping at the sight of the man in front of you. He’s tall, really tall, and built, his chest and arms perfectly filling out the blue button up shirt he wore. His chestnut hair looked silky to the touch, his jaw looked perfect for biting, and his face was just all around beautiful. Especially those eyes, the look in them stern. There was something else there you couldn’t quite decipher, it almost seemed possessive.
“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.
“Uh - yeah? Aside from the fact that you just scared the shit out of me and made me knock my line all over the table, I’m just peachy.” You scoff, throwing him a playful smirk and roll of your eyes.
“Country Club here seems to think you’re some kinda damsel in distress or some shit.” Barry walks through the door behind him, smacking his bicep with the back of his hand and laughing loudly.
“Damsel in distress, huh? I don’t think I’d mind if a pretty boy like you came to my rescue.” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes roaming his figure.
“Hell fuckin’ nah! Quit that shit out right now, Bunny. I mean it. I told him the same shit, I don’t want this.” He gestures between you and Rafe. “To be a thing. You two are a recipe for fuckin’ disaster. This is Rafe Cameron, the dude I was tellin’ you about.”
“What the fuck did you tell her about me man?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost panicked and you find yourself wanting to comfort him immediately. You jump up from your seat and walk around the table so you can stand in front of him. He’s even taller up close, you have to tilt your head all the way to meet his eyes and you stop yourself from clenching your thighs at the height difference.
“So this is the guy that killed the sheriff, huh? Pretty boy is a cop killer? I find that kind of sexy…” You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, your teeth subconsciously finding your bottom lip again as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Barry, what the hell man? You told her that shit?” He addresses the other man but his eyes don’t leave yours, the look in them changed from concern to defense, and maybe a little lust? He was honestly looking at you like he wanted to choke you to death and this time you really couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs where you stood.
“Hey, I’m not going to rat you out or some shit. Barry gave me the low down on everyone on the island when I moved, if I’m going to work for him I need to know the ins and outs, ya know? He trusts me, if you trust him, you can trust me. I’m cool.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring, you aren’t sure why but you want him to trust you.
“Alright.” His eyes search your face, almost as if he’s trying to read your thoughts, to see if you really mean it.
“Alright, we good?” You extend your hand towards him and he takes it in his much larger one, shaking it.
“We’re good.” You go to pull your hand away but he tightens his grasp, keeping it held in his. “You didn’t tell me your name though, or should I just call you, what did Barry call you? Bunny?”
“Bunny is preferred, but you can call me my real name too, if you’d like.” You let your thumb run across the back of his hand as you tell him your name, your eyes never leaving his.
“AIGHT! That’s enough of alla that.” Barry pushes past you, plopping down on the couch he grabs the bong on the coffee table and starts to load it.
“Bare, stop acting like you’re in charge of who I flirt with. I'm a grown ass woman, you're being dramatic.” You scoff, sending him a death glare.
“Seriously man, you’re acting like you’re her dad or some shit.” He chuckles when your cousin flips him off. “I’m sorry about your line by the way, I really just came to check in on you after I saw you arguing with that asshole out there. Let me make it up to you.”
Rafe brings his hand up to your shoulder, running his thumb over the blade a few times before letting it graze down your arm as he walks towards the couch. You watch as he sits down next to Barry and picks up your gift card, expertly lining the fine power back into a nice row before patting the cushion next to him. A smile breaks across your lips as you take the empty seat. He doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce when your ass hits the couch and the smell of your sweet perfume makes his cock twitch.
“For you, pretty girl.” He holds the folded dollar bill up to you with a smirk and you happily take it from him.
“Thanks, cutie.” You wink at him. When you lean down Rafe notices your hair is in your way so like it’s the most casual thing in the world he brings his large hand up to your face and sweeps the straw pieces behind your ear. He pushes the rest of it behind your shoulder and his hand stays there while you inhale through your nostril. His touch doesn’t leave you, even when you lean back against the couch, he simply adjusts it so it’s around your shoulder.
“You gonna flirt with my cousin all goddamn night or are we gonna deal with your little pouge problem?”
“Pouge problem? What’s going on?” You raise your eyebrows, your eyes traveling between Barry and Rafe.
“You remember that little fucker John B I was telling you about? His ass is alive and back on the island.” Barry shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.
“That’s the kid the cops think killed the sheriff, right? Damn. That’s not good for you, Rafe.” You make eye contact and bite your lip nervously. “Those kids know you actually killed her, don’t they?”
“Yeah, and my fucking sister is with them. Her and John B were there, they saw the whole goddamn thing.” Rafe groans, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I can’t have them opening their fucking mouths. I just can’t.”
“Then you know what you have to do, right? Shut them the fuck up, once and for all.” Your eyes darken and it reminded him of the way they looked outside, when you were holding a gun to your dealer's head.
“Yeah, no shit dude, that’s why I said we were going to deal with it.” Barry scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
“Okay, I don’t know what the hell is up with you attitude Bare, but fucking ditch it.” You glare at him as you grab the couch pillow next to you and throw it at his face.
“Oh? You wanna fuckin’ go bruh?” Your cousin grins at you, gripping the pillow in his hand and swinging it over Rafe’s body, directly into your face with a cackle.
“Oh you mother fucker!” You let out a laugh, your hands go for the pillow but it’s ripped from your grasp.
“CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!” Rafe takes the pillow in his large ringed hand and throws it across the room causing you to jump, your smile falling. “Barry, are you gonna help me or not man?”
“Hey.” Your eyes are soft again, you put your hand on his chest and rub soft circles onto his skin through his shirt with the pad of your thumb. “He’s going to help you, and I will too. We were just fucking around, everything’s alright. You’re probably under a lot of stress, huh? Poor thing.”
Rafe isn’t exactly sure how to react. No one has ever taken his anger and looked at it as more than just that, anger, yet here you are knowing him for all of ten minutes and the minute he loses his temper you see it for what it is, stress. Plus you’re kind of coddling him, and he’s never had anyone coddle him before. He almost feels speechless.
“I’m not gonna suck your dick about it like she is but I’m gonna help you man, fuckin’ relax. We doin’ this shit tonight?” Barry cracks his knuckles and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, earning an immediate glare from you. He scoffs, taking his feet off the table with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why you care so much if my feet are on the table dude, it’s my fuckin’ table anyways.”
“The drugs I put inside my nose are on this table, I don’t want your dirty ass shoes on it. It's common sense really.” He rolls his eyes and you flip him off, sticking your tongue out at him.
“Yeah man, tonight. I want to give this shit over with. I bet you anything they’re at John B’s. They’re stupid enough to go there.” Rafe’s hand is tapping on his already shaking leg and you can tell he’s anxious, you reach out and grab it, stopping his motions. He doesn’t look at you, but he intertwines your fingers, his hand squeezing yours. You squeeze his back and bring your other hand to his bicep so you can rub soothing circles on it. He lets out a sigh. “Once it’s dark, then they won’t see us coming.”
“Aight, let’s do this shit. Bunny, you in?” Barry raises a brow at you, his eyes lingering on the way you’re touching Rafe. “Also, I thought I said I didn’t want this to be a thing.”
“It could be dangerous, I don’t know if you should come, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.” Rafe answers before you can, his hand squeezing yours again in what you assume is supposed to be reassurance but it actually just pisses you off.
“Okay.” Your voice is stern, your hands leave him as you stand from the couch and he immediately misses your touch. “I wanna get something straight, right fucking now. I am not some weak little girl who sits at home while all the fun shit goes down. If that’s the kinda girl you’re into, you are not going to find that with me. I’m a ride or die type of bitch. If my man is in trouble, I’m helping him. So if you want this to be a ‘thing’ as Barry is calling it, then I suggest you accept that sooner rather than later.”
“And you, have no fucking say in who I do and don’t engage with sexually or romatically. Me and Rafe clearly have chemistry and I could tell that the moment I locked eyes with him, so you’re just going to have to get the fuck over it. Are we clear? Both of you?” You look between them, your hands on your hips and that fire Rafe is already becoming addicted to in your eyes.
“Whatever, your lil ass has always been fuckin’ impossible to control. If this blows up in your face I’m gonna say I told you so, cuz.” Barry snorts.
“Yeah baby, I got it.” Rafe cuts in, sending a shockwave through your body with the pet name. “I saw you out there with that guy, you might be tougher than Barry.”
This makes you smile, your eyes turning soft as you approach him on the couch. This time you don’t take the seat next to him, you sit across his lap, facing your cousin with a triumphant smile. Rafe's arm circles around your waist and you nestle in closer to him.
“Alright then. Glad we are all on the same page now. So what’s the plan?”
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“FUCK!!!!” Rafe was pissed, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming his hands down on the wheel. “FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THEY HAD TO OF JUST BEEN FUCKING BEEN THERE! POUGE FOR LIFE SARAH?! HUH?! I SEE HOW IT FUCKING IS!!”
“Rafe…” You approach the open driver's door, gently resting your hand on top of one of his that was white knuckling the steering wheel. Completely unafraid, despite the fact that he’s still holding the gun Barry gave him in his other hand. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We’re gonna work it out, they aren’t going to fuck with you.”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS? I’M FUCKED! YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FUCKING DAD! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAMILY, IF IT COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY GODDAMN SISTER HE’S GONNA FUCKING CHOOSE HER!!!” His hands leave the wheel, weaving through his hair and tugging, the gun pressed up against the side of his face.
“Hey.” You put your hands over his, turning his face towards yours. “I might not know about all that shit, maybe not yet at least, but I know that when I say I’m going to do something I get it done. You aren’t alone in this, I’m going to help you, okay?”
Your voice is sweet, the look in your eyes is gentle and reassuring, and your hands? They’re so soft, and cool against his face, the feeling of them soothes him in a way he’s never felt before. He lets out a sigh, relaxing under your touch.
“We are going to deal with this, but for right now we need to get the fuck out of here. Those gunshots could’ve caught someone’s attention.” You run your thumbs over the top of his hands before grabbing onto the gun, pulling it from his grasp with a smile. You tuck it into your boot and lean up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“Yeah, alright.” He nods, his hands smoothing through his hair.
You walk around the front of the truck so you can hop into the passenger seat, Barry already sat in the back anxiously bouncing his leg.
“Okay, let’s take Barry back to the house and then I think you and I should go somewhere together.” You buckle your seatbelt and turn to face him.
“Yeah? Where?” He shoves the keys in the ignition and puts the truck in drive, pulling away from the Châtea and into the night.
“Just trust me, I know a spot.” You kick your feet up on the dash, reaching into your purse for a cigarette and your lighter.
“Every instinct in my body is telling me to tell you to bring your ass home with me, but you’re not gonna listen to me for shit so I’m not gonna waste my breath. Gimme one of those fuckin’ cigarettes though.” Barry leans forward, snatching the entire pack and your lighter from your hands.
“Yeah, you’re better off not arguing with me Bare. Fucking give those back though, dick.” He rolls his eyes, lighting the cigarette he took from your pack before throwing it back to you.
“Yeah whatever, just fuckin’ take me home man.”
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“Okay, take a left here and on your right you’re gonna see a little road that goes through these trees.” You point out the window, directing Rafe as he drives.
“Where the hell are you taking me, huh? You taking me out somewhere quiet to sacrifice me?” He chuckles, looking over at you with a smirk.
“Mmm, I bet you’d like that, huh? Preppy rich boys like you always like the fucked up alternative girls from the sticks.” You return his smirk with one of your own.
“Ha! I guess you’re right, I wouldn’t mind if you spilled a little bit of my blood, as long as I could spill yours too…” he reaches the end of the road, driving into a clearing in the trees, a patch of lone beach in front of you.
“Yeah? That’s hot. Stop here.” He obliges, putting the truck into park and taking off his seatbelt. You do the same, turning towards him with your legs tucked underneath you.
“What’re we really doing out here, vampire girl?” His eyes meet yours momentarily before the trail down your body, taking extra time to admire your tits in your top.
“Mmm, well, I know you’re really stressed and I just thought… maybe you could take some of your frustrations out on me?” You lock eyes with him, your tongue running over your bottom lip before you take it between your teeth.
“Yeah? You brought me out here so I would fuck the shit out of you?” He licks his lips, his large hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing the meat of it between his fingers.
“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to take me home after that shit you said about your family and Barry would probably either kill us both or have a stroke if you fucked me how I want you to fuck me at my place.” You said it oh so matter of fact, that smirk ever present on your lips.
“And how do you want me to fuck you? Huh, bunny?” His hand runs along the length of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He grabs onto it, the tips of his thumb and his pinky just dipping under the fabric.
“I want you to fuck me like you hate me, take your frustrations out on me, Rafe. Use me.” Your voice comes out desperate and it makes him groan.
“I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already practically begging for me… you wanna be my little slut, that it?” His thumb runs down the seam of your shorts, stopping at your wet core. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it through your panties.”
“It’s all for you, want you, want to be your little slut so bad.”
“Fuck.” The hand not on your thigh reaches for your throat, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply in the most delicious way. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
He uses his grip on your throat to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against your own in a bruising kiss. You moan against his mouth and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers through his hair at the same time that his hand on your thigh pushes your shorts and panties to the side, burying two fingers in your wet cunt with little resistance. He begins pumping them in and out of you while his grip on your throat never falters. He pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes almost black with lust as they bore into your own. His thumb finds your clit and your back arches, a loud moan ripping through you.
“Open your fucking mouth.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. He leans over you and lets a string of spit drop onto your waiting tongue. You moan as you happily swallow it. “Good girl. Want you to cum for me.”
His fingers hook just right inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit perfectly. You feel your high approaching fast, you push your tank top down, letting your braless tits fall free. You grab them in your hands, tweaking your nipples, it causes your eyes to roll back and you feel that coil in your stomach about to snap. Rafe’s hand leaves your throat and grips onto your jaw in one swift motion.
“Fucking look at me when I make you cum.” He squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, causing your lips to pout. “I own this pussy now, that means I own your orgasms too, look at me while I take what’s mine.”
You open your eyes, and the minute they meet his your high crashes over you like a tidal wave. A broken moan leaves your throat and your walls clench around his large fingers as they continue to fuck you through your high. He pulls them from your pussy, holding them up to his face to examine them. They’re creamy white and glistening in the moonlight. You grab his wrist and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. He growls in response, shoving them further down your throat. You gag and he licks his lips, the sound going straight to his cock.
“Fuck, wanna feel you gagging around my dick. Get out of the truck and get on your knees, now.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and takes them into his own mouth. The taste of your spit mixed with the remainder of your arousal sending his eyes to the back of his head. You follow his direction, hastily throwing the truck door open and getting out. You start to walk around the back and he stops you halfway, grabbing you by the hair so he can pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m going to fuck this pretty little mouth while you kneel in the sand like the dirty slut you are. Bet you’d like that, huh?”
You nod as best as you can with the grip he has on your head, that sickeningly sweet smirk from when he first saw you earlier that day spread across your lips.
“Yeah, daddy, I want you to use my mouth like a fucking cock sleeve.” His eyes widen and a groan rips through him at the sound of that name leaving your lips.
“Fuck. Take this off.” He grabs the hem of your tank top and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes them, the coolness of them sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, your nipples hardening under his touch. “Fucking perfect tits. Knees. Now.”
You drop to your knees and eagerly reach for the button on his shorts undoing it and his zipper in one swift motion. His cock is straining against his black boxers and your mouth waters at the sight. You pull his shorts and boxers down and it springs free, thick and hard and leaking just for you. You knew he would be big, but goddamn his cock is huge.
“Mmm daddy, you’re so big, fuck.” You spit on your hand and bring it to his shaft, lightly stroking him. That bead of precum on his head is practically begging you to taste it so you lean forward and lick his slit with the tip of your tongue. You circle his tip before taking it in your mouth and sucking eagerly.
“Yeah, that’s right baby, suck daddy’s cock.” His hands grab onto your braids like makeshift handlebars and he uses his grip to push himself all the way down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He holds your head there for a few seconds before pulling you off with a pop. Your mouth subconsciously chases his taste. “Oh you’re such an eager little whore huh? You like that? You like gagging on my cock?”
You nod and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back so you’re looking up into his eyes.
“Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talking to you.”
“Yes - yes daddy, I fucking love it.”
“That’s what I thought.” He smirks down at you, shoving his cock back into your mouth and immediately thrusting into your throat. You gag and your eyes water, your mascara already starting to run down your cheeks. “God. Fucking look at you, I can see my cock in your throat baby.”
So much drool is dripping out of the sides of your mouth that it’s started to run down your chest and onto your tits. You swipe your fingers through it, wetting them before bringing them to his balls, caressing them in your lubed up hand.
“Oh fuck! Yeah, shiiiiit, play with my fucking balls, that’s so fucking good.” You look up at him and his head is thrown back, his neck on display, you can see all the veins in his biceps and the moans leaving him are feral. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight. Your hand travels between your legs and into your little spandex shorts, expertly finding your already slick clit and rubbing quick circles over it. Your moans increase in volume and it causes him to glance down at you, taking notice of your hand in your shorts.
“Hey, what the fuck did I say huh?” He pulls you off of him, bending at the waist so his face is hovering over yours. “I said that’s my fucking pussy, that means I’m the only one who gets to make you cum. Get up.”
He lets go of your hair, grabbing you underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. He turns towards the truck and rips the bed open, grabbing onto your hips and roughly turning you. He pushes down on your back, and you take the hint, bending at the waist so your top half is against the truck bed. The plastic floor is cool and rough against your nipples and your lower half hangs off the truck, your feet not touching the ground. A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to help and jolt forward.
“You’re not so tough now, huh, vampire girl? Your pathetic dealers know you’re just a little slut who likes to get thrown around? Or is that just for me?” He grabs onto your shorts and panties, ripping them down to your ankles where they pool at the top of your boots. “Look at you, you’re so fucking wet.”
He drops to his knees, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole and back again. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth and his hand comes down on your ass again. You feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly soon. His fingers run through your slick lips before they’re sliding inside you, immediately hooking into your sweet spot. You cum suddenly and hard, your whole body shaking underneath him.
“Please fuck me now daddy, please, I want your cock so bad” you voice is whiney and you shake your ass from side to side, arching your back so it’s further on display for him.
“Quit begging, I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t be a greedy brat.” He stands, two harsh smacks landing on your ass. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the head through your slit, coating it in your wetness. He pushes into you in one swift motion, and immediately starts fucking you at a brutal pace.
“Yes! Fuck! You’re so big, feels so full.” Your voice is a breathy moan, his cock feels like it’s in your lungs and the door to the truck bed is digging into your hips but god it feels so good. His hands are grabbing your hips so roughly that you think his nails might be drawing blood, and god you hope they are. You want him to mark you as his, anywhere and everywhere.
“Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, gripping my cock so good. This pussy was fucking made for me. Say it.” He leans over you, practically crushing you, but his cock hits even deeper than before and his mouth latches onto your neck and it’s like he read your mind because he starts to roughly suck and bite into your skin. Definitely leaving marks behind. “Say it. Say this pussy was made for me.”
“This pussy was fucking made for you, daddy.” You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him the best you can with your limited movement, wanting to feel every ridge and vein of him as deep inside you as possible.
“Yeah it fucking was.” He leans back, his hand gripping onto your hair again so he can pull your back against his chest. The sting of the truck against your hips at an all time high. He releases your hair so he can grip onto your throat instead, his other hand coming down to rub your clit. The feelings of pain mixed with pleasure sending you closer and closer to another orgasm. “You gonna cum already? I can feel you tightening around my cock baby girl.”
“Yeah - yeah I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum for you daddy, you just feel sofuckinggood.” You’re a drooling whimpering mess and the coil is seconds away from snapping when he stops his movements and pulls out of you, taking your orgasm with him. “Hey what-“
Before you can protest he grips onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back. He grabs your throat and pulls you into a sitting position, grabbing onto your thigh with his other hand so he can pull you to the edge of the truck.
“I told you, I want you to look at me when you cum. You owe me for that last one.” He slams his cock into you, continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it. His thumb finds your clit again and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bruise in the shape of his teeth marks. You’d get it tattooed if he wanted. You already knew at that moment this man had ruined all other men for you. He had you.
“Fuck - fuck daddy, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”
“Fucking cum for me, I’ll fill this little pussy up, paint your walls with my cum. Milk my cock, slut.”
His words send you over the edge, cumming harder than you have all night. Your walls convulse around him and your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. But that’s not what does him in, it’s the fact that you never break eye contact with him for a second. Obeying him like the good girl you are.
“Fuck! Good fucking girl, best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Never gonna leave you alone now. Never quitting this pussy.” He cums with a growl, shoving his cock deep inside you. He fucks you through his high, his thrusts never letting up, his face shoved into your neck. When he finally starts to come down he lets his softening cock slip out of you, his lips finding yours and kissing you with fever.
“Never quittting this pussy, huh, pretty boy? That’s a bold statement to make about a girl you just met.” You smirk at him, taking his face in his hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.
“Don’t fucking care, I meant every word. You’re fucking mine now.” He turns his head to the side, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm.
“Does that mean you’re mine too? I don’t do one sided bullshit.”
“Yeah baby, that means I’m yours too. Come on, get your clothes on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, grabbing your clothes off the sandy ground and shaking them out before handing them to you.
“You gonna take me home now? Barry is just gonna love all the hickies I know you left on my neck.” You smirk at him, pulling your shirt over your head.
“Nah, I’m bringing you home with me. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb running over your bottom lip.
“What about your family?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Fuck em, you’re my girl now, they’re going to have to get used to it. Get your ass in the truck, I wanna fuck you in my shower.”
You giggle, running around to jump in the truck. You didn’t even see his family that night. But they definitely heard Rafe making good on his promise to fuck you all night long and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel bad. Not that night, and not the next morning when he introduced you to his dad and step mom while they had disgusted looks on their faces. You just smiled, happily shaking their hands like you weren’t calling their son daddy until the sun came up.
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Tagging moots who might be interested: @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow 🖤
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steddielations · 6 months
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Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:
Part 1 | Character List
- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.
- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.
- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.
- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.
- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.
- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.
- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell
- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it
- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past
- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.
- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.
- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him
- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.
- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.
- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.
- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start
- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")
- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money
- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it
- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)
- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"
- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.
- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)
- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.
- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.
- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."
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babygorewhore · 4 months
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Prey
Rafe Cameron x Fem reader
Part one
Part two
After moving to the Outer banks to stay with your cousin, John B after your parents death, you catch the eye of Kooks. After being invited to one of his parties as part of a bet, you realize that Rafe Cameron has decided to make you his. Even if that means he’s going to stalk you.
W.C over 3k
Thank you so much to @take-everything-you-can and @reidsbtch for beta reading!!
Warnings! FemReader is alternative and introverted! Parental death! Bullying! Implications of stalking and flashing! Reader is slightly naive and easily manipulated at first. No use of y/n. No smut in this part but it’s definitely going to be in part two and I’m crazy. Concept inspired by @sadfury and Haunting Adeline by H.D Carlton. Events after season two but altered because I said so.
John B let you settle into your new room as you slightly grimaced. This was the last thing you ever expected, moving here away from home. But after the death of your parents, you weren’t able to live alone, you didn’t have a choice. He was the only family you had left.
You couldn’t be more different. He was used to the beach life, a Pouge as he educated you on the drive here after you arrived. He was sunshine, tan and light colored clothes. Sandals and shorts.
You on the other hand were an all black wearing, band shirts, dark makeup and tall boots that gave you at least four inches. You stood out like a sore thumb.
It was hard to adjust to the passing of your parents after the sudden car accident. It couldn’t be more cliche.
If you weren’t in your room crying, you were usually scrolling aimlessly on social media looking at your photos of them.
Shy wasn’t the exact word to describe you, introverted was a better description and you completely dreaded the next day because John B was determined to show you around and introduce you to his girlfriend and friends. You tried to smile, practicing in the mirror but it looked painfully fake.
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The weather was just as hot as John B mentioned. You were wearing a band t shirt, black shorts and he tried to convince you to wear flip flops but you kept on your converse shoes. The beach was crowded much to your distain and you desperately wished you brought an umbrella.
This part of the beach had a golf course not far away and you had never played golf a day in your life. You stuck to solitary hobbies.
“You sure you’re not gonna get too hot in that? I can buy you a swimsuit.” John B nudged you with his elbow and you shook your head.
“No, thanks. I’d rather wear something I’m comfortable in.” You forcefully smiled as you shield your eyes from the sun rays.
“So, uh. We have a library in town, a few shops nearby. We have a pretty good restaurant Kie’s parent’s own. I know you remember some-unless you want to be alone.”
“I think that’s good right now.” You confessed as you both settled your towels on a spot on the beach. The waves crashed and it was a soothing sound you didn’t expect.
“Wow, it’s so beautiful.” You nodded.
John B smiled. “I’ll take it.”
You laid down on the towel, gingerly moving off any sand that flicked onto your calves. You did bring a book you were determined to finish when John B growled. “Fucking prick.”
“Why so hostile?” You questioned, you never saw him angry. John b crossed his arms and pointed behind you.
You turned, twisting your back to see two men at the golf course. You squinted but you could tell one of them was pointing in your direction. They were both blonde, dressed in preppy light clothing while holding golf clubs. They looked rich.
“Who are they?”
“Kooks. The worst of them. That one is Topper, he’s Sarah’s ex boyfriend and the taller one is Rafe. Her insane brother who beat the shit out of me, Pope and JJ.” You scowled and turned around.
“Kooks are the…?”
“Slang for the rich people. You and I are the Pouges.”
A few minutes later, his friends joined you. They were nice, really nice and outgoing. You stayed mostly quiet, watching the interactions and the way they swam in the water. Kie stayed with you the longest, consistent in her question if you needed anything or wanted to join them. You declined each time. Needing alone time after the long trip and new environment.
You sighed, having enough of uncomfortable sun bathing and decided to get a drink. You still had some cash and it wouldn’t kill it to just buy a soda. You walked to a shack, quickly wiping off your shoes of all sand.
You started towards the counter, grateful there wasn’t a line when a a blonde male moved around and stepped in front of you. He was the same man who was pointing at you and John B. The friend of this infamous Rafe.
“Hi, you must be John B’s cousin.” You remembered his name. Topper. He stuck out his hand and you folded your arms.
“Uh, yeah. That’s me.”
“Everyone’s heard about you, John B wanted to brag and Sarah couldn’t wait to meet you.” You internally winced at the not so subtle anger in his voice.
“Right, yeah.” You told him your name and started to step around him. “I’m just here to buy a drink.”
“Oh, let me,”
“No, really I’m fine-“ You both stood at the counter.
“I insist.” Topper paid for your soda and you wanted this interaction to be over.
“I’m not trying to be rude, but is there something you wanted?” You held the bottle protectively as he smirked.
“Sorry, I’ll get to the point. But I noticed how you were talking to the gang John b is friends with. And I wanted to see if you’d let a couple of Kooks let you show you around. You’ll actually get to see the island.”
Your hackles raised immediately and he sensed it.
“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna do anything. I just wanted to be nice. If you don’t want a tour, Rafe is throwing a party tonight. I wanted to invite you.” You raised an eyebrow and scoffed.
“No offense Topper but John B told me that Kooks wanted nothing to do with Pouges and how much you both hated him. Why would you be nice to me?”
To your dismay, he stepped closer. “Just because you’re John B’s cousin doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. And you don’t seem like you want to stay on the beach all day. Come on, maybe you’ll have a good time?”
You wanted to scream hell no, but something in your chest secretly wanted to get away, get a distraction for why you left home and John B unintentionally reminded you of your loss.
“I’ll-I’ll think about it.” Tooper smiled triumphantly and quickly wrote down on a napkin his number.
“Here. I really hope you come. And I can pick you up if you want.”
You gulped the bottle of coke and made your way back to the beach. After a few more hours of roasting underneath the sun, the invitation felt more and more appealing. The air conditioning didn’t work at John B’s house even though he was trying to fix it. And would one night really be so bad to let loose with a bunch of rich kids?
When you asked John b to drive you home, he kept asking you if you’d be okay alone and you firmly said yes. You left out the information of a party and Topper as you scrambled to find something to wear. Everything you had was black. Well. At least mostly everything.
You owned a pair of sparkly, silver high heels that you got as a birthday present two years ago for your twenty first and you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear them. Biting your lip, you slipped on a black dress that was mid thigh height, ruffles at the bottom of the skirt and it was a v neck exposing your bust.
Your hair was messy from the bun it was in all day so you braided it in two. Quickly slapping on makeup, you pulled out your phone and texted Toppers number.
“Is the offer still on the table?”
He responded almost immediately. “Of course! I’ll be there in twenty”
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True to his word, he was there in twenty and you inhaled. You could do this. You could go to one party.
The ride was…okay. He talked to you about the landmarks and talked about who would be there. His friends since childhood and of course…he talked about Rafe. How great he was. How rich he was. How he took over his parents empire after his father’s death and he ran it alone. You withheld comments about being handed down rich lively hood as you kept quiet.
You dreaded if he made any advances towards you but he never did. He was ever the gentlemen when he parked in the driveway of the massive penthouse. Booming with music, you saw people dancing through the bare windows and the balcony.
You couldn’t believe you were here. John B probably wouldn’t assume you were out of your room and besides. You were a grown woman capable of your own decisions.
“Let’s go,” Topper opened the door for you and you followed him inside. It was crowded. More than any party you’d been too.
Several people turned and stared at you, you couldn’t tell if it was judgement or curiosity. You clutched your small bag where your phone was closer. You could call John B anytime, despite his probable anger.
“Can I get you a drink? I can introduce you to some people.”
“Sure, thanks.” You wanted to scream for him not to leave you alone but you stayed strong and drifted to a corner.
God, now you were having regrets as the music turned up and people started cheering. Topper was taking longer than expected and you decided to be brave. Fuck it. You moved from your place and wandered around. Your heels clicking over the wooden floors.
The kitchen was almost filled to the brim with people, several sitting on the island and girls immediately turned towards you and paused mid conversation. Topper held two cups as he talked to Kelce.
“Oh, hey! I was just about to find you.” Uneasiness settled in your chest as you took the red cup. “It’s okay. I just-.i feel a little awkward.” You whispered.
“Come on, I wanna introduce you to the man of the hour.”
You started gulping the alcohol to try and suppress your nerves as you both climbed the stairs to another lounge area with dark lights. People were doing lines, slurring from drunkenness and making out. Basically fucking as your eyes narrowed on Rafe.
Up close, he was fucking hot. Sharp jawline, blonde hair that was separated with bangs and crystal clear blue eyes that were currently focused on a girl straddling his lap.
They were tongues and teeth making you feel even more uncomfortable and another emotion hit you. You tried to shove it away, but his fitted light pants around his muscular thighs, t shirt that exposed his defined arms and large hands…thick fingers gripped her ass.
Oh god, you were fucking jealous over a man you hadn’t even talked too.
“Hey, man. Hate to interrupt, but this is the new girl.” You tried not to bite your lip and smear your lipstick as he pulled away from her.
His light eyes swept over you, pausing longer on your tits, hips and exposed legs. He gave you a nod before a small smirk slid towards Topper. “Get off,” he lifted the poor girl off and plopped her on the couch to her distain.
Your core tightened in anticipation as he drew closer. He couldn’t be more opposite. In clothes. In height. In status. He oozed power, money and sex. With a little danger.
“Mmm. Yeah. I saw you today with John B. Didn’t expect him with Tim Burton.”
You cleared your throat, offense rising but you tried to remember you were in his house and yelling at him probably wasn’t the best idea given he could crush you. You started to extend your hand but he turned.
“Hey, get your asses to the pool! Im tired of being up here!” He called out and everyone started moving quickly. His commands obeyed without question as he jerked his hand to point them downstairs.
“Oh, I don’t have a swimsuit with me-“
“You live on the beach. But you didn’t bring one, Tim Burton?” Rafe challenged, looking down at you with a hazed look. You couldn’t tell if it was dislike or anger.
Why would he invite you if he didn’t like you?
“Come on,” Topper gestured with his head for you to follow him.
The pool was lit from under the water where several half naked people were playing chicken, kissing and smoking. You didn’t exactly mind the scene but it was entirely out of your comfort zone. Your heels caught a puddle on the concrete and arms caught you.
You inhaled sharply, thinking for a second it was Rafe but you saw him sitting on a lounge chair with the same girl perched on his thigh. She was beautiful except for the death glare she was giving you. You turned around to see your savior. It was Kelce who gave you a smirk before you were launched over his shoulder.
You screamed, “What the FUCK?!” And then you saw Topper briefly before you sailed into the cold pool. The water stung your eyes as you flailed from the weight of your shoes and panic. You clasped onto the side and pulled yourself up.
Everyone was laughing. Even recording you.
Your chest burst with embarrassment, anger and utter heartbreak as you knew how stupid you were for believing this was a kind invitation.
You wiped your face as you got your bearings and black liner, lipstick and foundation smeared all over your hand. “Fucking shit.”
You went to climb up but you slipped again, causing more laughter.
You remembered your phone, oh god your phone. No, your purse was still held by Kelce. You let your anger heave you over and you crawled up, shakily standing before you yanked your heels off. Everyone was still laughing and recording but you locked eyes on Rafe himself.
He wasn’t laughing. But his eyes held a hint of amusement and the corner of his mouth was tilted up.
You wanted to run. Cry and scream. That’s exactly what they expected. Instead, you marched towards him, shoving people out of your way as you stepped in front of him and the girl.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You growled, pointing a dripping finger. “Is this your idea of some kind of joke?”
He shrugged. “It looks like I won five thousand dollars. Top didn’t think you’d actually come. I said you couldn’t resist some attention, Tim Burton.” He parted his legs further as he got comfortable.
You were seething but you were also petty. So you took the bottom of your dress, not caring if it exposed your black panties underneath around the crotch as his blue eyes immediately dipped down to the area. You flapped the skirt. Splashing water right in their faces. And when he stood up, the girl followed suit, you slapped him.
Hard but he hardly moved an inch as he chuckled darkly and took a small step forward. The water dripped from his brow and landed on the ground.
“Fuck. You.” You hissed. You turned around and flipped everyone off before he could get a chance to tell you off.
You stormed away, bursting through the house, ignoring the cat calls as you shoved open the front door. You didn’t have a car and it was late. You had ripped your purse away from Kelce and checked your phone. John B was calling you.
You answered. “Hello?”
“Oh my god, are you okay? I’ve been calling for an hour, where did you go?” He sounded worried and you winced.
“Um. Can you pick me up?”
“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” You cringed at his question but you had no choice.
“I’m at Rafe Cameron’s house.”
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To say John B was angry was an understatement as you were sitting like a scolded child in his living room. You were still soaked like a wet cat as he rummaged to find a towel.
“I can’t believe you fell for it! I told you about those assholes. You can never trust them. Why did you even go?”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a child!” You finally snapped, standing. “I made a mistake. Can we just let it go?”
“Let it go? Rafe Cameron is a monster and you were made as an example for Pouges and now he has more ammo. He’s never going to leave it alone. And you may never-“
“What? Show my face? Be accepted? Guess what, John B, I’m already fucking USED to it. And maybe I just wanted a distraction from what happened. For once, I just wanted to let loose. Obviously, I fucked up. I’m going to bed.” You ground out and moved toward your bedroom.
“Wait, I’m sorry-“ But you slammed the door and locked it.
You were too upset to even shower as you yanked off your dress, underwear and shoved on an oversized t shirt, put your hair up and flopped onto the mattress.
Now, the tears started as you looked on social media.
Somehow they found your account and tagged you in dozens of videos of the incident. Horribly mean comments underneath caused you to cry harder. You never should have gone.
You hugged your pillow, about to close your phone and throw it, when a text came through. You didn’t recognize the number but hair raised on your arm as you read the words.
“Maybe if you did more than flash your panties, I would make them take them down.”
You sat up immediately. Now this, this had to be a joke. Rafe Cameron was texting you.
“Go. Fuck yourself. And don’t text me. I’m blocking you.”
“Do you really think this is my only phone number, Tim Burton?”
Your mouth parted. He was right but you thought of another tactic.
“Fine. I’ll change mine tomorrow.”
“Good luck. I’ll find out what it is.“ You clenched your jaw. Half a mind to call and scream at him.
“Leave me alone.”
The reply came almost immediately.
“I make the rules here, princess. Not you.”
You then pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, three times. “Pick up, asshole.” You grunted.
Finally, it stopped ringing and you heard silence. “I know you’re there, douchebag. Don’t text me anymore and don’t fucking call me princess.”
“Are you still trying to have control, princess?” You had to breathe deeply so you wouldn’t wake the neighbors with your yelling.
“What are you doing, Cameron? Why are you talking to me? After what you did? After hurting me like that? Is this some sort of sick game? Well, I’m not playing it. Stay the fuck away from me, you son. Of. A. Bitch.”
“I would be very careful how you talk to me, little girl. What makes you think this wasn’t what I wanted? You. All to myself.”
Fear stilled you as you whispered, “You-you leave me alone. I don’t like you. In fact, I hate you and I hate what you did! Fuck off.” You then hung up.
You shut off the light and crawled back into bed. Your body went from boiling hot to now ice cold. You blocked his number. Quickly and you shut your eyes. Drifting into a nightmare filled sleep being tormented by Kooks. Rafe Cameron’s voice and then…you dreamed of his dark eyes trailing the outline of your pussy through your black panties.
You snapped awake at the knock of your door.
“Hey, uh…do you want to go to breakfast? If not, that’s okay. I just want to make up for what happened. I feel awful for yelling at you and this shouldn’t be your first impression.”
You were tempted to say no. Let him go alone but you were hungry. And you wanted a distraction from the event last night. Sighing, you got out of bed. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”
You throw on a pair of black shorts and your converse. Still wearing your big shirt and ponytail. You were weary of your phone, but you forced yourself to move past your fear and you snatched it from the pillow.
Another number was on your screen but you could see part of the message. You could only squeak when you opened it.
“I hope you enjoy breakfast, baby doll. I’d hate for you to starve that pretty little body. But I want you to behave. Like a good girl. Or this will be harder for you.”
Your mouth was completely dry when you stared at the screen. Oh fuck. He was true to his word. This was another number. But how the hell would he know about this morning? You realized the reality of this situation. He had eyes and ears everywhere.
You were certainly fucked.
And not in a good way.
Tagging
@scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @slvt4jamesmarch @take-everything-you-can @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow @reidsbtch
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Making a Move
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Summary: Spencer's been seeing someone new, and the last thing he wants is to mess this up
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Word count: 1.8k
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Hotch called a meeting over the phone, and the team is waiting for him and Rossi at the Roundtable. In the meantime, everyone else has made their stops at the coffee machine, Spencer included. He was having his second cup (the first one was from his apartment), but he didn’t need the team to know that. Although not as romantic as expected, his late night was worth the extra yawns and blurred vision. He’d rather the team not know about that too.
“What’s got you so tired, kid?”
Too late.
Morgan fiddles with a pen between his fingers. As he asks, his eyebrow arches; he’s ready for an answer. His question brings everyone’s eyes to him.
“Nothing,” Spencer says.
“Nothing?” He knows that’s not it. The pact to not profile each other basically ended before it started. “Cause this is the third time in the past two weeks you’ve come in here yawning like every ten seconds.”
“It’s nothing. Maybe I need more coffee.”
Garcia pokes her head up from behind her laptop. “You never have more than one cup of coffee at the office unless you really need it.” She’s still typing while looking at him. “You don’t even suggest it. Until now.” Typing halts, and Spencer sees the realization in her eyes. He knows he can’t stop the tide from coming. “Ooo, what’s his name?”
“It’s not a guy.” Spencer sips his coffee, sugar granules sliding over his tongue as he swallows.
“So it’s a girl.” Prentiss butts in with a smirk.
Spencer rubs his hand on his forehead.
“It is!” Garcia unleashes a squeal. “Okay, what’s her name?” Her magenta nails are out like a cat exposing its claws, and Spencer knows she’s prepared to start a free background check.
“He’s not going to tell us,” Prentiss says.
“What about her job? What does she do?”
A kindergarten teacher. “Not saying that either,” Spencer replies.
“Well, has anything happened between you two?” Morgan joins back in.
Just hello and goodbye hugs.
“Guys,” J.J. calls. She’s standing by the projector, remote in hand. “It’s Spence’s business. He’ll tell us when he wants to. Okay?” She uses her mom voice, and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if the following words out of her mouth were, “If I hear another word about this, you’re all grounded.” It’s comforting, even though he knew she’d have his back.
Sighs of disappointment and protest around the table were not subtle, but they were as close to a verbal “okay” as she was getting. J.J. accepts it anyway and eventually takes a seat. Garcia leans over and asks about Hotch and Rossi, likely regarding where they could be. Spencer wonders the same thing; so they can get started.
And because Morgan keeps staring at him. He’s eager for Spencer to spill. He even leans over. “Seriously, kid, nothing?”
“I’m not afraid to tattle,” Spencer whispers back. He finds his book, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He read it a couple days ago, yet opened a page and busied himself with the paperback. Morgan’s eyes are still staring. He’s not letting this go, even if this briefing led to the jet. Spencer makes the mistake of looking back at him for a moment, and he has no choice. He turned the page of his book and mumbled, “I want something to happen, though.” He bites his lips closed when the words finally leave them.
Spencer’s opened the door, welcoming Morgan and his sleazy smile. Something he — hell — that they’ve all seen and grown too familiar with at bars and clubs. “Alright, that’s what I like to hear.” He shakes Spencer’s bony shoulder. “My man.”
Spencer can’t help but grin, not in response, but because of last night. He was worried you’d consider him cheap or creepy for choosing to watch a movie at his apartment instead of the theater. He was hoping to make a move. Spencer thought you looked so cozy in your polka-dot sweater; he wished he could reach out and touch the material. It looked so soft. But all the mistakes he made might’ve ruined the chance for that.
“What’d you do?” Morgan whispers.
“I sat too far away at first. I tried moving closer but… I didn’t want to come off as weird. Then I excused myself to get some water, but then it still didn’t feel right and —”
“So you chickened out?”
“I didn’t chicken out.”
He chickened out.
“Okay, well, it’s good you’re not all over her. You’re giving her space and showing her respect. But Reid,” He ruffles his hair. Spencer smiles, and it’s the only thing that keeps J.J. from giving a lecture. “You’ve been on three dates. She likes you, man. She’s probably waiting.”
“But what if she —”
“She does. And you need to go in knowing that and display some confidence. When are you seeing her again?”
“Tonight. We’re getting ice cream.” Spencer tries to suppress his lips curling. It doesn’t work.
“See. Now let me give you some pointers.”
It’s been a while since Spencer’s built such a natural rapport with someone, especially someone in a field furthest away from the grim glimpses of humanity he sees.
He surprised you with a visit during your lunch last week. The vibrant colors in your wardrobe match your classroom. The walls covered in handmade decorations and class-made crafts are a refreshing difference from the dark basements and fluorescent-lit interrogation rooms. The light in your eyes when discussing your students is something Spencer doesn’t get to see often, and he didn’t want to lose it by moving too fast.
Displaying confidence was something that came naturally to Morgan. “Displaying” didn’t feel honest, Spencer thought,  more like a front. Then again, that’s what all displays really were. Spencer’s only known how to be himself. Morgan does have a point, though. He’s already been on three dates. So being himself has worked so far. But he’s sure he needs a little more.
On the walk to the agreed-upon spot, Spencer grips the strap of his satchel as he trudges uphill. It helps him burn off the nervous energy as he gets closer. But when he sees you sitting at one of the outdoor tables, he’s reminded again why he should be. You’re wearing a flowy yellow dress and white tennis shoes. The one difference from last night is the ends of your hair, brunette roots leading to dark pink ends.
You stand up and start walking toward him, beaming already. “Hey!” Your arms are already out, and you hug. Spencer notes you smell like coconut.
“Hey, you,” He tries to make it sound natural. His hand lingers at your waist for a second. “Your hair,” That same hand touches the ends. “It’s pretty.” He smiles, taking in your individuality. He thinks about how much you and Garcia would get along.
“Thank you,” your brightness radiates as you giggle. “It’s the most I can get away with at school, so I figured I might as well push the limits while I can. Plus, the kids love it.”
Spencer’s brain immediately goes to statistics about school dress codes and how they likely change the following year. He holds back. Morgan’s taught him that sharing statistics can apparently kill the mood. He even reminded him before Spencer left (early). “I’m sure they do.”
Your eyebrows quirk. “You okay?”
“Yeah, doll, I’m fine.” He tries again, but it’s taking everything for him not to cringe in front of you.
“No, you’re acting weird.” You cross your arms.
“Am I?” Spencer’s chest tightens.
“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “What’s up? Tell me about it.”
Spencer doesn’t exactly know how to say, “I really like you but I’m terrified of messing this up so I’m attempting to put on a terrible impression of a macho man because I want to kiss you and I feel like being myself isn’t going to get me anywhere” in a form that’s going to sound coherent and not like a crazy ramble that ends in you running away. So he doesn’t say it at all.
“Spencer,” You reach out to hold his hand. “You can tell me.”
“I…” He feels like he’ll stumble over his words before he gets a sentence out. He looks at you, and your grip tightens a little. He returns the gesture. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
“Mess what up exactly?”
“Well, this.” He moves his hand where his thumb is on top. “I like you a lot.”
“Oh, well, I like you too!” You say. “We’re on the same page there. So how could you mess this up?”
“Because I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t want to push you.” The wind blows, and both of you push hair out of your faces, and Spencer tries not to lose his thoughts. “I even let one of my coworkers give me pointers on how to be… smoother.”
You try hard not to laugh, but it slips out, and the insecurity on Spencer’s face spreads. “Is this the one you told me about? Dirk Morgan?”
“Derek Morgan. But, yeah, him.”
“Okay, Doctor,” You step closer, and now both your hands lead up to his biceps. Spencer cautiously moves his hands to your waist. He’s hesitant about public displays of affection, but you started it, and he won’t be the one to end it so soon.  “I’m going to bring you into my field for a minute. I’m assigning you a pop quiz.”
Spencer’s mouth quirks a little, wondering where this is going.
“I have no doubt you’ll ace it.”
“I’m usually good at acing things. Exams, tests, quizzes.”
“Good. It’s one question: am I dating Derek Morgan?” Your thumbs glided back and forth against his cardigan.
“Are we dating?”
“We’ve been on dates. Therefore: dating.”
“Then, no, you are not dating Derek Morgan.”
“Congratulations, Dr. Reid, you got a 100.” You push yourself up on your toes to kiss him gently. You both pause for a moment. His hands trail to your back as yours glide to hang on his neck. His breath is extra minty for six in the evening, and it made you realize that was the move he wanted to make. “Feel better? Now that that’s out of the way?”
Spencer leans in to kiss you again. His response is clear when he pulls you in to make it deeper, but still innocent. When you open your eyes, you can see the weight that’s been lifted, a weight you lifted.
“Next time you feel like making a move, you’re more than welcome to go for it. Okay? You have my permission to go for it.”
“What if I don’t know your boundaries?”
“Just ask.” You put your feet flat on the ground, but other than that, neither of you moves or shifts eye contact. “Spencer, I like you the way you are. You don’t need some sort of smooth rhetoric to make me fall further for you.”
Spencer, once again, fails to hide the smirk as it grows. “You’ve… fallen for me?”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah.” He says quickly. “It’s more than okay.”
Thank you for all the love from the last fic. I'm glad so many of you liked it 🥹 For anyone curious, I don't have a schedule. I just write and upload when I have something. I'm focusing on getting back into writing so feel free to send oneshot ideas if you have any. Thanks again 🩵
“Good. Now let’s get ice cream.”
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Trying
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Warnings: allusions to fertility issues, unwanted touching, and other possible dark elements. Proceed with caution.
Note: I got carried away with Blind Offer but here is another Corrupt a Wish! Ft. our boys Steve and Ransom!
Please leave some feedback so I know you want me to do more of the wishes I got. Otherwise, I find it hard to keep my motivation.
Wish Corrupted: I wish Ransom would be a simp for me despite the fact that I’m Steve’s girl 😏 by @stargazingfangirl18
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“He’s in his office, writing again,” you keep on hand on the door as you speak to the man on your stoop. “Something about a book deal…”
You grin and Ransom’s cheek dimples. Nothing more. Sometimes it feels like he only tolerates you because you're attached to Steve. You try to give them their space, to stay out of the way. You’d hate to spoil this for your husband.
“Right, so..” Ransom tucks his hands into his russet jacket and looks over his shoulder, “you sending me back out in that?”
“Not at all,” you step back, “come on in.”
He looks back to you with that expression you can’t read. His eyes speak more than his features but they are cryptic. There’s a light behind them you can’t quite place. He steps inside, rivulets on his jacket and a few sparkling droplets caught in his dark hair.
“Can I get you a tea? Coffee?” You offer, balling your hands to keep from wringing them.
He unbuttons his jacket and hangs it from a hook. He smooths his hands over his hair, the rain seeping into the strands. He faces you and tilts his head.
“Got anything stronger?” He asks.
You try not to show your surprise at the request. It’s three in the afternoon. On a Tuesday. Your liquor cabinet is rarely opened even on the weekends. It’s more decorative than practical.
“You like gin, right?” You venture.
His lash flick and he narrows his eyes at you, a ripple in his forehead. He plants a hand on the wall and bends as he thumbs off his wet shoes. He keeps his gaze pointed at you, “you remember?”
“Lucky guess,” you shrug.
“Lucky,” he looks around the entryway, “I’d say so.”
You try not to betray your doubt. It’s hard to tell with him what is meant as a compliment or shade. He speaks in riddles. You almost want to suggest he takes up writing himself. It is in his blood.
“I’ll go see what we got,” you say and spin on your heel.
You’re quick to flee the stolid pressure of his persistent gaze. It’s as if he’s weighing you, judging your worth each time he sets sight on you. It wouldn’t be the first time someone thought you weren’t good enough for Steve. And how could you be? How do you live up to the Captain America?
You go to the cabinet in the dining room and unclasp the door. You peruse the bottle and find a tall bottle of gin. You slip it out over the tops of the other bottle and gently close the cupboard. You bring it to the kitchen and search for a suitable glass among the crystal.
“You got club soda?” Ransom frightens you as you pull down a tumbler.
You turn your head, looking at him from your peripheral. You sidle over to the fridge, “might…”
He crosses the tile as you search and you feel the door shift. As you close it, his hand follows, staying flat to the metal as he peruses the calendar stuck to it with a magnet. The squares are crowded with clusters of your and Steve’s writing. You highly doubt he has any concern for your doctor appointments.
“Busy,” he comments.
“Yep,” you agree as you open the can of soda, “sorry, I don’t have any citrus.”
“It’s fine,” he comes closer as you pour the soda over the gin and the clear mix bubbles to the rim. “Thanks, doll.”
He reaches and slides the glass towards him. For a moment, looming so you can smell the bergamot in his cologne and feel the warmth radiating from his ivory knit. He backs away as he brings the glass to his lips.
“I should go find the old man,” he declares.
“Right,” you move the half-empty can and cap the gin, trying to contain yourself.
You listen to him retreat. His steps are lazy and carry no urgency. You glance over to make sure the kitchen is empty and you lean on the counter.
Doll… only Steve calls you that.
💕
Ransom stays for dinner. It’s not unusual. You don’t even have to ask as two hours pass without a peep from the office. That’s how your husband spends his days lately; burrowed away, writing, grumbling over his laptop, and occasionally calling for help. You smile each time he tells you typewriters were so much simpler.
As you bring out the serving dishes to the table, Ransom chats about some editor’s meeting, Steve looks over as you place the roasted potatoes down, he lets his hand wander to your lower back and smiles up at you. He’s in a better mood than usual.
You touch his shoulder, too shy to kiss him in front of Ransom. You just hate how he’s always watching. The last time to gave your husband a peck on the cheek, it resulted in a snort and a mean joke about PDA.
You go back to the kitchen and grab the pan of drumsticks. You stop as you pass the fridge, staring at your writing, the highlighter over the letters. A few more days… The specialist will be able to figure it out. They have to.
You shrug away that thought and continue into the dining room. You place the last piece of the meal and claim your seat. You sit and wait to take a serving of potatoes until Ransom and Steve get some, then scoop up some grilled asparagus, and a single drumstick.
“Sorry, could I trouble you for another drink?” Ransom asks before you can lift your fork.
“Oh, of course, I forgot,” you push your chair out and grasp the arms as you stand, “Steve?”
“Just water for me.”
You nod and hurry back to the kitchen. Your stomach is roaring with hunger. You pour the rest of the soda in a new glass with the gin. Then you fill a glass with water from the filter on the fridge. You return and give each man their drink.
“Thought you were cutting back,” Steve remarks as Ransom swigs his drink greedily.
Ransom pops his lips and lets out and ‘aah’, “well, I’m only on number two. Usually I’d be at the bottom of the bottle.”
“Fair,” Steve shrugs. He doesn’t drink, even if he did, it doesn’t have any effect for him. You stopped drinking months ago so you could… Well, it hasn’t helped, has it.
“So, first draft when?” Ransom chortles as Steve answers with a growl. “I’m teasing. You’ve made good progress. I mean, the whole world just can’t wait to hear the story of good ole Cap from the man himself… and my grandfather is especially looking forward to it.”
“Mm,” Steve chews, jaw tight with irritation. No, how quickly his good mood flies away. “Deadlines… I am very aware.”
“He’s been working hard,” you offer, “he’s in his office everyday. I think you’re the first guest we’ve had in a few weeks.”
Steve nods but doesn’t comment. Ransom takes another drink. “Must be hard for you,” he remarks, “lonely.”
“I told her to invite Wanda over,” Steve snips, “if she’s lonely, she’s free to solve that problem.”
“Yikes, sorry I said anything,” Ransom cringes, “lighten up, old man.”
“Would you stop calling me that?” Steve huffs, “it’s not funny.”
“Well… you’re what…a hundred or something now? Pretty damn ancient if you ask me–”
“Hugh,” Steve snarls.
Ransom’s grin disappears in an instant. He puts his glass down heavily and leans forward. The men glare at each other. Then suddenly, they’re laughing at each other. You don’t get it. You can’t figure out if they actually like each other or not. It does your head in.
“Mathematically speaking, you’re old, but I’m sure the wife will say you’re spry and youthful in spirit, huh?” Ransom winks in your direction.
Steve sucks back his last laugh and rolls his eyes, “don’t be gross.”
“What? It’s a compliment.”
"It's none of your business," Steve warns.
Ransom laughs again. Steve doesn't and you keep your head down. You can't wait for him to finish this book, hopefully that will be the end of this relationship; professionally and otherwise.
💕
Ransom leans heavily on Steve. The supersoldier shoulders the man with ease as he drsgs him up the stairs. The upstart heir to a bookhouse empire babbles drunkenly.
"So, I get out of this meeting and see my fucker uncle–"
"Language," Steve girds, swiftly ignored as the story continues with similar profanity.
You follow behind, clasping your hands together anxiously. This isn't how you thought the night would end and you know the change in plans will upend Steve. You swallow a dread-filled sigh as your husband angles the houseguest into the spare room.
He as good as tosses Ransom onto the bed. You can tell he's annoyed.
"What were you doing feeding him drink all night?" Steve accuses as he faces you, hands going to his hips. That posture, great, now you're in trouble.
"It was only two," you sputter, "really– you can check the bottle."
Ransom giggles and lets put a belch, "I dropped a few xanny after that idiot uncle of mine got in my face."
"Really?" Steve twists to sneer at the sprawled man. Ransom is so pathetic it's almost impossible to hate him.
"What? Taking the edge off. You should try a few, old man."
"Go to sleep," Steve points at him and turns, marching towards you.
"I'll get some water…" you offer softly.
You precede him out, ready to scurry away from his roiling wrath. He catches your arm as he pulls shut the door. He tugs you back to him, lowering his voice.
"Are you…" he stares at you, his meaning in the angle of his jaw.
"First day," you know he checked the calendar.
"Good," he lets you go and exhales deeply, "I need it."
You nod. He used to be romantic about. Now it's just another chore. Almost mechanical.
"I'll just grab that water and–"
"I'll be waiting," he grits as his throat constricts.
You touch his chest and kiss his lips, "then I'll hurry."
His chest rises and he swallows loudly. He turns away first and you flit away. You know better than to keep him waiting.
You go downstairs and find a fresh glass from the cupboard. You watch the clear water flow into the crystal and balance it carefully to keep it from sloshing over the edges. You come back upstairs and gently tap on the spare room door.
With no answer, you let yourself in, assuming that Ransom's succumbed to his Xanax cocktail.
He's on the bed, just as you left him, eyes closed as he breath subtly under his sweater. You near the night table and set down the water. As you do, you feel a pinch on your ass.
You squeak and recoil. Before you can retract completely, Ransom catches your wrist and yanks you towards the bed. You hold firm, teetering but not succumbing.
"What are you doing?" You touch his thick fingers.
"You're too good for himmmm," he drawls out, "you know that?"
"Ransom--"
"No, it's true. You're so sweet, dolllllll."
"Don't call me that."
He snarls and you're suddenly flung forward with his strength. He pulls you so you collapse onto the bed, against him. You whimper, but not loud enough to be overheard.
"And pretty and..." He caresses your cheek as you turn your face away, squirming as he wraps you up in his other arm, "and perfect. The way you make my dick hurt..."
He rolls his hips and you shove against his shoulder, "get off."
"Shhh, baby, I know you want it too. He doesn't treat you nice. He can't give a baby, but I will--"
You struggle as he grabs your chin and rolls, pinning you to the mattress as he leans over you. Helpless, you writhe, kicking your legs as he smothers you in a sloppy kiss. He tastes like gin.
You bite his lip and he snaps back. You take the opportunity to shove him away and you scramble up off the bed. He reaches for you again but you stay beyond his reach.
"Sleep it off," you hiss and twirl away from him, off kilter as you try not to show how unsettled you are.
You flick the light switch and shut the door, leaning on it as you touch your lips. Hopefully, Steve doesn't taste the gin on you. Not like he really kisses you during anymore.
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