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take-everything-you-can · 1 year ago

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THE DEVIL I KNOW: CHAPTER EIGHT - BACK IN HELL AT LEAST I'M COMFORTABLE

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Rabbit Season Duck Season ft. your demon boyfriend who doesn't want you to google him.

cw: explicit, smut, monsterfucking (no monstery stuff comes up but he is still a demon), blowjob, ball play, facial, just romantic things <3, making a deal with a demon (eddie's version), lover's spat but in the most hilarious way don't worry, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, sex pact, sacrificial computer killed by fire, death mention, trauma, bullying mention, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

this fic contains dark themes and this entire work is explicit. please check all content warnings for each chapter. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

series masterlist ♫ series playlist ♫ series tag

So. You’ve been at war with Eddie for two days now.

It started as a joke. You got curious– you didn’t really mean anything by it. Maybe you knew you were poking a hornet's nest, but you don’t recall him giving you any specific instructions not to. And what were the odds that this demon, in his wisdom, gave you his real, full name in a moment of crisis? What were the odds that you would actually find something about him?

You googled the name Eddie Munson.

At first, you did it on your phone, in bed, and your google search was limited to your IP address location. You got a ping for an Eddie Munson from one town over, who apparently bombed a car or something a few years back. The articles were bleak and didn’t include a lot of information. But otherwise, nothing from around Eastwick.

Then you widened your search parameters. Demons are supernatural, paranormal beings, right? Eddie said he used to be human, so you figured you should treat it like trying to find a ghost. And you didn’t know how old Eddie was– he could have lived at any point, from the last 60 years to the last 6,000 years. Although, for some reason you had a hard time picturing him living in 4,000 BCE.

You searched Eddie Munson folklore.

What are you doing?

You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s voice in your ear, locking your phone and throwing it across the bed. “Uhhh, nothing?”

Riiiight.

“What’re you– did I call you again?”

Yeah. You do it a lot, you know.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

Mm. Go to sleep, sweetheart.

And you heard nothing about it. Until the next morning, when you unlocked your phone again and saw Eddie Munson folklore had brought up a few strange results.

Eddie Munson Serial Killer

Eddie Munson Satanic Panic

Eddie Munson Cult of Hawkins

You stared at the different search results with your morning coffee poised in the air, completely halted in place. You weighed your options, wondering what on earth you were going to find, should you click on any of them.

Was it really him? Was this even worth the effort and the possible janky links to a Subreddit you didn’t need to be scouring through?

You clicked on Eddie Munson Serial Killer, just to see what would come up, if there was a Wikipedia article with the guy’s face that you could honestly identify as Not Your Eddie.

And your phone died.

You scowled, and set down your coffee so that you could try turning it on again, but all you got was a dim low battery notification. Down by your knees, Dante whined and bumped his nose against your leg to get you to pay attention to him.

“Sorry, baby,” you cooed, shoving your phone onto a charger and forgetting about it. You stooped to scratch Dante behind the ears, and kissed him on his little hellhound head. “Let’s get you some food, yeah?”

You didn’t try again until much later, when you sat down with your computer in your living room. Now it was a little bit more serious, less of a joke. Even if this ‘Eddie Munson Serial Killer’ wasn’t your Eddie Munson, you’d never heard of the guy before. And you genuinely thought you were pretty checked out on various serial killers throughout history, with your penchant for true crime podcasts.

You picked at your nails for a moment, your hands hovering over the keyboard as you weighed your options. Then, you typed the words quickly into the search bar, and hit enter.

And your fucking computer glitched, blue screened, and died.

You stared at the black screen in front of you with a feeling of exasperation that bordered on irritation. You looked up, and made eye contact with Dante, laying on your floor in a patch of sunlight. The Rottweiler gazed back at you with eyes that glowed a little bit red in the sunlight, almost knowingly.

“Eddie, what the fuck is this about?” you asked the empty air.

No answer.

“Eddie?”

Radio silence. Dante yawned and rolled onto his side. The clock in the kitchen ticked on ominously. You waited for something– Eddie’s voice in your ear, or a footstep behind you, alerting you of his presence. Nothing came.

You stared into thin air, thinking over your options. You figured you could just be looking too deeply into things. You reached forward, and tried to turn your computer back on.

The screen popped once, like there was a power surge, and then the keyboard started smoking.

“Eddie!” you screeched, flinging the computer away from your lap. Flames burst from it just as it hit the floor. Dante leapt up and barked excitedly at it. “What kind of Looney Tunes bullshit–”

The burning computer’s screen blinked on, and from behind the crackling flames, a video started playing. Off-key, jazzy fanfare blasted from the burning speakers, sounding a bit screechy and tinny, and then Porky Pig appeared from within a red circle.

“That’s all, folks!”

“Oh, I see.” You chuckled, slowly nodding in indignation. “This is war, you little shit.”

So, that brings you here. The Eastwick Public Library is a tiny, one story unit in the town plaza’s main strip mall. Situated at the end of the building, it boasts a row of about fifteen bookshelves, half of which house the ‘religion’ genre, and maybe six computers. Seven, if you count the one behind the librarian’s desk.

You keep your head down as you log into one of the public access computers. It’s been ages since you set foot in the library, and you highly doubt any of your beloved neighbors would like to see you in here, looking up obscure serial killers. You can almost imagine their lack of surprise.

You type in your keyword search for a third time, and wait for the computer to spontaneously combust. It doesn’t. Instead, a few images pop up, followed by a Wikipedia article, followed by a few newspaper links.

It’s him. It’s your Eddie.

“Edward ‘Eddie’ Munson was an alleged American serial killer. He is the only known suspect of the Cunningham-Benson-Mckinney murders of Hawkins, Indiana in the Spring of 1986, and was presumed dead after the fatal 1986 Indiana Earthquake.”

The first image that shows up is obviously a yearbook photo– the typical blue background, a close up headshot of the grin that you know and love. The second photo is in black and white, a missing persons poster. And the third photo is yet another yearbook photo, but this time it’s a group shot. A bunch of teenage boys all lined up against a brick wall, under a banner that says Hellfire Club.

“No way,” you mutter incredulously, clicking on the photo and zooming in to find Eddie in the corner, sticking out his tongue and using his fingers to create a pair of devil horns over his head.

The link for the photo is for a yearbook pdf from Hawkins. The title of it reads HAWKINS HIGH DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS HELLFIRE CLUB, 1985-86.

You press your lips together, feeling yourself gearing up to grin. Quietly, and with the most affectionate tone of voice you have ever used in your life, you croon, “You were in a D&D club?”

One by one, each computer along the row you sit at pops and fizzles with sparks before shorting out. You pull your hands away, giggling and watching the sparks come down the line until they reach your computer, and then it goes dead.

And so does the rest of the power in the building.

You let out a blast of laughter, clapping your hands over your mouth while a group of teenage girls in the back corner scream bloody murder. The library has gone dark, and the cranky librarian at the front desk is simultaneously shushing the screaming girls and herding them out the door. You’re still giggling when you get up, and you have to hide the smile on your face when you duck past the librarian on your way out.

“Don’t.” Eddie materializes in your entryway when you get back home. Melting out of the woodwork, a shadow that forms into his pouting visage. He shakes his head at the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t say anything, I’ll–”

“What?” you ask him, tilting your head. You bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again; it had been so hard to stop your fit on the way home. He looks sheepishly away from you, a bright pink blush coloring his cheeks. “You’ll what, Eddie?”

He tries to look severe, but he can’t hide the smile beginning to wobble its way onto his lips. “I’ll Looney your Tunes so fucking hard–”

“You can’t Looney my Tunes motherfucker, I’ll Looney your Tunes.” You point an accusatory finger at him. “You owe me a goddamn computer!”

You’re not actually that mad about the computer, it was a piece of shit anyways. But Eddie surprises you by producing a new one from behind his back, and holds it out to you.

You give a placated hum as you take it from him. “So. That was you, huh?”

“No, it’s not– not technically–”

“Did you think I was gonna… gonna judge you, or something?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything in response, his eyes flicking from yours, to the computer in your hands, and back.

“You’re a demon. I made a deal with you, I sold my soul.” You screw up your face. “You’ve offered to kill someone for me like… what, three times now?”

Eddie sucks on his teeth and looks away.

“I think I’m past the point of judgment, honey.”

“It’s not that simple.” His brow furrows, and he chews on his bottom lip, stripping chapped skin from it with his teeth. “Believe me, I wouldn’t– I wouldn’t care, except that shit… the shit you read, that’s not the truth. I swear.”

“Then what is the truth?” You ask him mildly. “Were you a serial killer?”

“No.”

“But you were in a D&D club.”

He heaves a sigh, rocking back on his heels and tilting his head up towards the ceiling. You stare at him for a moment, watching him squirm a little bit like he’s looking for a way out of the conversation. Then, he grumbles, “Yeah…”

“You are so fucking cute.” Eddie’s cheeks turn bright red, and he spins away like he’s going to walk back through your bedroom door and disappear. You leap forward and grab his arm, giggling, “Nonono, don’t go. Come back here. So you’re a nerd, it’s okay. I’m a nerd. We’re nerds of a feather.”

“Sure.” Eddie snorts loudly, pulling you into a hug. His smoke surrounds you, as comforting and warm as his embrace. He buries his face in your hair, nuzzling against the side of your head. “M’gonna give you the truth, okay? The whole truth. And you have to promise not to run away.”

“Okay, Eddie.” You sigh and close your eyes as he lifts his hand and cups the side of your face. You lean into his touch. “I’m not running. I promise.”

HAWKINS, 1984

There are a few things Eddie Munson hates in this world. He has an abundance of annoyances, yes, but only a few things that he despises more than anything else. One of them is bullies- no matter where they come from. School, law enforcement, employers, whatever. It’s something he can’t deal with, and oftentimes out of his own propensity for self preservation, he spends his time avoiding them. He’s never been a fighter. He’s never been tough enough to defend himself, but running away is usually just as effective.

The second thing that he hates is loneliness. He likes to tell himself that, had he known that living in Hawkins would make him lonelier than anything, he’d have chosen to go live in Indianapolis with his Great Aunt Shirley instead of Uncle Wayne. But that’s not true at all– he loves Wayne, whenever he crosses paths with him.

But he’s being held back. Senior year of high school, and he’s not fucking graduating, and he doesn’t know if he can stand another year of bullshit from the assholes in town who can’t fucking stand him.

“You’re the only student we have who isn’t attending graduation this year,” Principal Higgins had told him, with his nose endearingly turned up in disdain. “You should feel lucky that we even offered to allow you to repeat the grade, considering your… track record.”

And so, thanks to his own irresponsibility and bad habits, he’ll be subjected to more loneliness. More bullying. More of the things he hates.

Unless.

Eddie’s done stupider things. His copper item is a… fucking moscow mule cup. Old and tarnished, but properly made of copper. He’ll get a new one for Wayne at some point, but he hasn’t seen his Uncle touch it in all the years that he’s lived with him. Eddie dirties his hands as he buries it in the wet earth, where the creek that runs through the woods behind Forest Hills trailer park splits in two. Eventually they converge again, somewhere down by Lover’s Lake, but here they create a fork.

He didn’t bother casting a circle. He doesn’t even know how the fuck that’s supposed to work.

His shoes are wet. He stands in ankle deep water, and he splashes around uncomfortably. “Hey, uh. I don’t know what I’m doing, but um. I’m– I’m here to make a deal. I guess.”

“Who’s the genius who uses a river as a crossroads?” says a woman’s voice, startling Eddie out of his wits.

Eddie jumps and loses his balance turning around in place, toppling down in the water. He looks around, hoping that he isn’t hearing things at the ripe old age of 18.

“Over here,” the voice says again, and Eddie catches a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. When he follows it, he finds a lady waving at him, crouched down beside a tree on the outer bank of the creek. Her dark hair hangs in her face, but she has a vaguely golden aura about her that makes her stand out in the night.

When she gets a good look at him, her sarcastic smile turns into a laugh. “Well, what do you know? It’s Jim Morrison.”

Eddie frowns. “I’m not Jim Morrison.”

“Obviously,” she says blandly. “Could’a fooled me, though.” She pauses, and then looks at him curiously. “What are you doing down there?”

Eddie glances down, at where he sits up to his waist in the water. He throws his hands up in defeat. “My delicates.”

She laughs and raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Yes.” He struggles up, dripping water all the way. “Y’know this is a sacred river? It was the birthplace of a love goddess or something.” He looks over at her again, and motions generally at her. “I can see the myth was true.”

The lady giggles, standing up from her crouched position. She wears a long green skirt that brushes the ground when she walks, and a crocheted shawl over some kind of halter top-looking doohickey. He tilts his head, being reminded of an old record that migrated to the back of his collection. Woodstock, ‘69. Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane.

Grace Slick– or, at least, the demon who looks an awful lot like her, considering Grace Slick is definitely still alive– grins wickedly. “Oh, a charmer. Are you flirting with me?”

Eddie cracks a smile. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

The lady hums, standing directly across the water from him. “You wanted to make a deal. I’m here to make it with you, so if you don’t mind. What is it that you want?”

“How about being the greatest guitarist who ever lived?” Eddie gestures vaguely around at his general being. Ankle deep in water, soggy and probably looking very pathetic. “I figure maybe it’ll make things easier in the meantime. What does school matter to a rockstar, y’know? Maybe it’ll help me get the fuck out of town, for starters.”

The lady tilts her head. “And you’re not Jim Morrison, huh?”

“Was Jim Morrison a guitarist?” He rocks on his feet, nearly losing his balance again as he splashes around a bit. He plods awkwardly across the water, shoes squelching and pocket chains jingling. “What do I have to do, huh? Beg on my hands and knees? I’m already out here, soaking wet, in the middle of the night–”

“You’ll be a guitarist,” the lady tells him, her voice a bit sterner now. She regards him closely, her dark eyes narrowed at him. “The greatest who ever was and ever will be. I can see why your petition came to me.”

“My… what?”

“Your request for a demon to make a deal with. It came to me, because I favor musicians and performers.” Shortly, she produces a small, spiraled notepad that has a bunch of messily scrawled words on it. “I’ll give you your greatness. In return, you give me blood each full moon. A few drops on a tissue will do. Burn it in a dish on your window sill.”

“Is that normal?” Eddie asks, “Y’know, considering you’re also getting my soul, and everything.”

“It’s what I ask of you for veneration. Each demon asks for something different. I just find it easier than asking for a sex rite.”

“Excuse me?”

“After you die, you’ll become one of us,” she continues. “A demon of the crossroads. I don’t keep your soul. But I get power for securing it.” She snatches his arm, as he reaches towards her notebook. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie blinks, flushing pink from the cold and the woman’s grip, burning his skin. Her hand is unbearably hot, almost enough for him to jerk away. “Yes.”

The woman smiles with unnervingly sharp, pointed teeth. “Good.”

It takes a second for the pain to register; when it does, the notebook in the demon’s hand is already splashed with Eddie’s blood. He gives a pained whimper as he recognizes the pain of the wound on his arm, and begins hyperventilating the longer it grows, reaching up his arm, slicing into his muscle. His body tenses up and starts to shake, her grip on his arm disturbingly strong.

When she lets go, he curses and glances down to find a new mark on his arm. A black inked tattoo of a swarm of bats.

“So… you fought the forces of evil by playing Metallica?”

“Well, it made sense at the time.”

Teeth dug into the plush skin of your bottom lip, you suppress another giggle as you sweep your fingers through Eddie’s hair, pushing his bangs back away from his face and letting them stick up into the air as you release them. He has a tiny scar on his forehead, just shy of his hairline, which you never noticed before now. You want to kiss it.

Instead, you trace it with your fingers. Eddie’s chin rests on your stomach, his eyes dark and wanting as they gaze up at your face. He has the prettiest eyelashes you think you’ve ever seen, and he bats them at you like he means to use them for your demise.

He lays between your legs on the couch. You’d moved there naturally, with his hands coaxing you and yours pulling him like a life raft. It isn’t easy, having the contents of someone’s life– two years’ worth of it– dumped into your head all at once. When he said he was going to give you the truth, he quite literally gave it to you. Directly. Into your brain.

He gave you everything, from the time that he made his deal, all the way up to his death. You saw him forming the Hellfire Club only a few months after the deal was initially made, and watched as it evolved into a gaggle of friends that he cared for and loved. And you saw the way that he protected them until the very end, when he played the greatest rock concert ever given.

“You were so sweet, baby,” you whisper, with a tightness in your throat that tries to constrict the flow of air from getting out.

“Wonder what happened.” You bop him on the shoulder with your palm and watch his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Hey, I mean. You don’t sit through torture seminars in Hell without getting a little bit screwy on your way out.”

“They have seminars there?”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie snorts, his eyes lighting up briefly with a little bit of fire. “There’s a whole circle of Hell that’s just one big long TimeShares seminar. I’ve been to it. Probably the most horrible thing I had to experience before I could go off and start making deals. They use it as training.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It is fucked up. It’s Hell, and I’m a salesman. Arthur Miller should have written something about that.”

“So… does God exist?”

“Oh, sure. Lots of gods. My favorite one is Hades. Cool guy. He runs Hell– the Underworld. Same thing. Persephone is kind of intimidating, though. Don’t get on her bad side.” Eddie tilts his head at you. “Pretty much any mythological figure you can think of exists on some plane of the Otherworld. Think of… gods and angels as my coworkers, in different departments. Maybe I don’t like all of them, but I work with them.”

“The Otherworld is a department store?”

“Precisely.”

Your fingers fumble with the collar of his shirt and hook around the metal chain he wears around his neck. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

His eyes bore into yours. “Anything you want.”

“How many, um–” Your eyes flutter when he shifts, and your fingers dip beneath the collar of his shirt just enough to feel the burn of his skin there– “how many deals have you made?”

“Including you,” he says, heaving a sigh that you can feel expand in his chest, “three. There was Charlotte, in ‘91, and then Adrian, in ‘99. Neither of them held up their end of the deal.”

“The… the full moon?” You can’t imagine how it could be that much of a sacrifice, being required to sleep with him once a month. You’re so pent up, so eager to do it already that the notion that someone wouldn’t seems absurd to you.

Eddie nods. “You don’t hold up your end of the deal… the contract is up. And then Hell comes to collect.”

You let that information hang in the air between you. You stare at it, the empty space over his head, as you try to process it in the silence that follows. “Quick way to an early grave?”

“Happened to me,” he mutters. “Forgot to prick my finger and rub it on a napkin during all that mess, fighting for my life. If you can believe it.”

There’s an unspoken air of heaviness in the room– the knowledge that he died far too young, protecting his friends with the talent he sold his soul to have. Far too quickly to make selling his soul even worth it in the long run. It weighs on you, pressing down on your lungs at the same time as Eddie’s weight presses in between your hips.

Your own rite looms over you, just a few days away. Something in your gut tells you that Eddie is giving you this– the honest truth– so you know what you’re in for. You promised him you wouldn’t run away.

You sold your soul and promised that you’d meet his demands if he met yours; you never expected that it would get to this point. That you’d be lying here, with him curled between your legs, and you’d have to accept that the attraction you feel towards him isn’t just due to the terms of the deal anymore.

You know him, now. Or, at least, you know him a fair bit better than you did.

You tilt your head, realizing something out of the blue. “You didn’t have to make my deal include the sex.”

“I never claimed to not be a pervert, sweetheart.” He flashes you a sharp grin. “I am your average horny little devil, you know.”

“And you didn’t have to mark me with your name,” you point out, with a note of curiosity in your voice. “Your demon didn’t.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, but that’s ‘cause I’m disgustingly obsessed with you and need you to be all mine, so.”

Your heart flutters at that, singing along to the tune of some stupid love song you haven’t heard in a long time. You hum, holding Eddie’s face in your hands. His eyes flick down to your lips, and then back up to meet your gaze.

“I still think you’re sweet,” you tell him earnestly.

“You think I’m sweet?” He parrots, his hand sliding up the curve of your thigh and over your hip, his fingers curling into the hem of your shirt. He looks incredulous, like he doesn’t really believe you.

“I mean, sweet like a feral dog I have on a leash who’s out for everyone’s blood except mine. Y’know.”

He grins wickedly, a deadly twinkle in his eye as he shifts further down, his head lowering toward where your shirt bunches up around your waist, exposing a sliver of your stomach. You shudder as his hot breath hits your skin. “Is this sweet?”

Eddie presses a lingering kiss onto the soft skin just above your navel. You sigh, your fingers sliding through his hair and gripping at the roots, and he pauses. His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your hands in his hair, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he hovers there, with his lips pressed softly to your stomach.

He puffs out his cheeks and blows a raspberry.

“Eddie!” you squeal, trying to get away from him as he cackles, holding you hostage to his assault. You kick your legs and manage to squirm until you throw the both of you off of the couch, rolling with him onto the floor.

Dante gets up from his spot at the end of the couch and disappears through the wall like an apparition. He tends to disappear off into the aether at random times, only to reappear later, whenever he’s hungry or if you call him. You guess that life as a hellhound is busy work. Or, maybe he’s just sick of you and Eddie being revoltingly touchy-feely in front of him.

“I take it back! I take it back, you little fuck–”

“Can’t take it back!” He rolls with you gripping onto your kicking legs until you come to a stop beside the coffee table, straddling his hips. You sit back on your heels to glare down at him, but he’s still chuckling. His eyes twinkle in the low light of your living room. “No takesies-backsies.”

This position is… too familiar. It’s intimate– it’s like you’re two normal lovers on an autumn afternoon, kicking around and doing stupid shit and just enjoying each other’s company.

Something is changing. No matter how sexually charged the relationship has been until now, something feels different. It’s in the way he looks up at you like you hung the moon. It’s in the way you lean forward and trace his lower lip with the tip of your finger, humming to yourself all the while.

Eddie stares directly into your eyes as he slowly opens his mouth and takes your finger between his teeth, his lips curving up into a mischievous smile.

“No,” you sing at him, soft but stern like he’s a misbehaving pet. “Open.”

He blinks, and releases your finger with a curious expression. You lean further down, nearly nudging your nose with his as your fingertip strokes gently down his extended tongue, his hot breath coming out gift wrapped with a sigh. Eddie snakes his arms around your waist as you replace your finger with your own tongue, sealing your mouth against his.

Handsy. You guess that’s what you can call him– you haven’t kissed him like this before, soft and sensual and unrushed. While his tongue works against yours in a way that has your mind reeling, his hands wander down to cup your ass and squeeze, until you squeak against his mouth and lurch against his touch.

The thing about this is… well. You’re not entirely sure where you stand with him anymore. Is he your patron demon? Is he your boyfriend? Infernal demon boyfriend with a sweet streak that only you get to see?

Every nerve in your body is on fire, and he’s seemingly happy to drive you crazy while you try your best not to grind down onto him. It’s all a little bit too much for you to process right now– with the way things are going, you’re wondering if you’re set for life. Who the fuck is going to compare to a demon, now that you have one? What human person will ever match up?

“I think you’ve ruined me for everyone else,” you whisper conspiratorially, letting your lips drag against his.

“Tell you a secret?” Eddie’s voice is warm in the back of his throat. He peers at you through his lashes, eyes heavy-lidded and twinkling with the barest flicker of a flame in his deep brown irises. “That was my plan all along.”

“You monster.”

“You got me all figured out.” He snickers once, dimples indenting rosy cheeks that are much too pretty to belong to a demon, but you’re starting to suspend your disbelief. Eddie’s laughter dies in his chest when your mouth attaches to his neck; a hollow noise takes its place, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows it down.

Hands hiking his t-shirt up over his stomach, you’re inching your way down his body like you have a plan, and Eddie’s frozen beneath you like he’s trying to figure out what it is. It takes him just a couple seconds, until your tongue connects with the trail of hair running down his stomach, and then he smirks knowingly.

“Oh, I see,” he hums, his eyebrows raising as you lick your way down toward his belt. “You’re a keen little thing, aren’t you? Don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Shut up, Eddie.” It doesn’t come out as sharp as you intend for it to, because your hands are fiddling with his belt. You pull it free from his jeans and fling it over the coffee table with more force than necessary.

“Buy my silence,” he mutters sarcastically with a shit-eating grin. A playful glimmer sparkles in his eye as you curl your fingers into his waistband and tear at them, but he doesn’t move to help you at all. “Nine ninety-nine a month, with tax. Quick, before the rates go up.”

You’re shaking your head, shooting him a caustic glare as your mouth finds the soft skin just beneath his waistline. You just want to get his pants off however you can– if you have to rip them off of him, so be it.

“Oop– ten ninety-nine a month. Better think fast, baby.”

You yank them down his hips, just low enough that you can nuzzle and lick into the thick patch of hair over his groin. You breathe in the scent of his skin, lingering just beneath all his usual smoke. Warmth and salt, as though he’s real and not just the corporeal manifestation of a spirit.

“...E-eleven– ninety-ni– hmm.” Eddie’s giddy voice dies as a purr in his throat, his head rocking back against the floor. He gasps when drool rolls off of your parted lips, wetting the skin of his hip just before you suck a hickey there. He squirms. “Fuck it. You get it for free.”

“Just wanna suck you off,” you whisper, a little more slack jawed and unhinged than you were before. You suck in a deep breath and lave your tongue over the base of his cock, as it peeks out over the waist of his jeans. “Wanna taste you everywhere, baby.”

“Christ– M’not gonna stop you. Go ahead, take what you want, sweetheart.”

Eddie hisses through his teeth, his hips jumping when you lift his cock out of his pants. Warmth settles in the pit of your stomach, pulsing between your legs when you wrap your fingers around it. It’s so much better than in your dream– it’s thicker, massive, the vein along the bottom pulsing in your hand.

You spit onto it, mixing your saliva with the bead of precum gathered on the head. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Eddie.”

He gasps, kicks his hips up into your fist. “Y–you’re so fucki–hhng–”

You shush him, and look up as you trail your tongue along his shaft, feeling him twitch against you. Mouthing kisses along it, wet and soft, you suck just a bit with each one to watch his chest leap with his breath. “I wanna take you to pieces.”

“Shit–” Eddie lifts his head to gaze down at you, eyes glassy, lips red and parted as he pants. “You’re gorgeous. Oh, honey…”

Eddie moans when you slide his head into your mouth, letting your tongue glide gently over his slit. His hand flies down, tangling into your hair, the metal of his rings digging into your scalp.

You open your mouth and take him in as far as he’ll go, until he hits the back of your throat and you choke.

“Such a good fucking girl for me,” Eddie breathes, his hand on the back of your head grounding you like an anchor. “Just look at you, baby. So fuckin’ perfect, god.”

Actually, you feel like a mess, with spit dribbling down your chin and eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat. Sniffling from the tears and the lack of air, gagging on his cock. Drunk on sin and the taste of his flesh.

You imagine that’s probably what he considers perfection, though.

He stiffens when you swallow around him, your hands wrapping around his hips in an attempt to hold him down. Eddie makes a soft sound in his throat– something you might mistake as submissive, if his hand in your hair weren’t pushing you harder down onto his cock, forcing you to gag on him. The tightening of your throat around him is enough to make him twitch in your mouth.

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck–”

Lips dripping saliva, your throat flexes just before you pull off with a wet gasping noise that makes Eddie curse and tighten his fist in your hair. You can’t be coy, can’t pretend like you aren’t fucking wrecked; you’re a mess of spit and tears, the salt of his precum on your tongue and in the back of your throat.

Dipping your head, you nuzzle down to suck at his balls. Slick lips latching onto soft skin, suckling just enough to make him howl and buck his hips up against your hold. You lap at him with your tongue, hearing his moan crackle in his throat with a prideful grin.

You gaze up at him with glassy eyes when he reaches down with one big hand to fist his swollen cock. Rings glint in the light and catch on his skin with a sharp edge, contrasting your light touch on his balls, making him flex his hips up into his own hand.

You’re mesmerized, watching his hand work in front of your face, with your spit and his fluids spilling over his knuckles. It kicks up a sticky, wet sound that makes something deep in your gut flutter.

“Open your mouth,” Eddie grits out, in such a commanding tone that you don’t even think to question him. You just do.

The muscles of his stomach tightens when he cums, his breath hitching on the inhale. Ropes of white spurt from his tip while he groans so loud it could rattle the ceiling. Some of it gets in your mouth, but most gets on your face– large drops on your cheeks, clinging to your lips and your chin. You moan when you lick the excess from your lips before you swallow, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuckin– filthy little girl, aren’t you?” Eddie murmurs, and reaches forward to snatch your face with his wet fingers. His rings dig into your messy cheeks, smearing his cum across your skin.

You gasp, your eyes flying open to meet his, as he grins evilly down at you. It makes you shudder, a moan caught in your throat. Your face burns. The mark on your wrist throbs in the shape of his name.

“Yeah, sweetheart. My dirty girl, all covered in my cum like that.” His thumb pets your cheek, sticky on your skin as he plays with it. “What a pretty fuckin’ painting.”

You whine as he pulls you upwards, clambering over his body. Your cunt throbs between your legs, and it turns worse when he yanks you toward his face.

Eddie’s tongue drags up your cheek, licking his cum off of your face. It makes the blood rush beneath your skin, makes your body heat up with just how filthy it all truly is. He hums low, licking your mouth and letting the tip of his tongue catch on your teeth, leaving your skin wet and stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Hm,” he grunts after a moment, tilting his head as he looks at you. Your cheeks are pinched between his fingers, your lips puckered in a way that you’re sure isn’t very sexy, but he doesn’t seem deterred by it. Eddie cracks a grin and says, “No, I don’t think I’m very sweet. Tastes more umami.”

“Oh my god.” You bark a laugh, ripping your face away from his grip so you can roll off of him.

Eddie snatches you before you can get away, pulling you down so that he can playfully bite at your cheek, giggling along with you. “No, don’t go baby, I gotta clean you up–”

“You’re obnoxious,” you cackle at him, letting him roll with you across the floor, feeling a sort of obsessive delight consume your voice.

He smushes his face against yours, and you can feel his teeth as he grins, scraping your skin. There’s an undertone to your thoughts as he does, which makes your heart pound in your chest when you acknowledge it for what it is.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

#im not ok #are you fucking joking right now #can i marry him your honor #wtf wtf wtf #i feel like that scene from euphoria where nate is screaming what the fuck is wrong with you but in the best ways my love #i hope you see this cause god damn this is so good and when i finish im gonna be in tears at the void of trying to find something as good

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rafesplaymate · 10 days ago

Text

First Encounter.

Bestfriendsboyfriend!Rafe x Bimbo!Reader

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chapter visuals here.

warnings: slight smut. infidelity (not on reader). choking. dumbification. immoral thought process. substance use (drinking while driving.) power dynamics. dom / sub dynamics. toxic behaviors. manipulation / gaslighting. slight coercion / dubcon?

a/n: i am so hyped to release this AU. been playing around with it for a while. i decided to use maddy’s name from the show so im sorry if you’re a maddy. Her face claim is NOT alexa demie, can be anyone you imagine. not verbatim to the storyline / scene —my version of it —btw they’re all out of high school. enjoy!

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Bang. Bang. Bang.

“M’fuckin busy! Fuck off!” Growls Rafe breathlessly, too entranced by his sweet doll who he’s pounding into the door. Pressing sloppy kisses to her cheek as he groaned into her skin; her bruised bottom lip hidden behind her front teeth in an attempt to keep her volume down as he presses her body to the bathroom door. But breathy moans and whines couldn’t help but slip past her swollen lips. The heat they built up in the restroom almost suffocating. Harsh breathes and moans of pure desire being passed to one another. He’ll be damned if he lets some stupid party-goer ruins this for him. Something he’s been dying to have.

“Rafe?!” His girlfriend knew that voice, wondering why she hasn’t seen him around the party. “Are you serious?! Open the fucking door, I have to pee! I’m not fucking around! Where have you been?!” she shouted, her voice full of vexation as she continues fumbling with the knob and banging on the wood from the other side. Sure, they’d been on a ‘break’ since their latest fight, but the was still her man and she wants to know what the hell he’s up to.

As for Rafe and y/n, the realization of who’s on the other side of the door —makes time stop. Their bubble of passion and intoxicating ambience getting popped. He looks at his doll’s eyes widen with immense fear, her lips parting to speak and the only thing coming out being a squeak when he shoves his large hand over her mouth. Her beautiful doe eyes looking into his as he presses her to the door and catches his breath. Mind calculating at the situation.

“Sh, relax —told you to trust me, didn’t I?”, he whispered gruffly to her; his eyes glaring with warning as he pressed her harder into the door. The banging from his girlfriend on the other side shaking her half-naked body as fear and anxiety drips from her eyes in the form of tears. “Don’t fucking cry. I swear to god —don’t. Just relax.” His voice softened slightly to accumulate her compliance once more.

He watched as her body relaxed slightly until the banging started up once again and his girlfriend started shouting for him to let her in once more. “Are you taking a shit? I can smell it, you’re fucking gross!” She mocked with a laugh, her hand jangling the knob once more. He watches as his doll’s hand comes down to press against it, keeping it in place as her eyes look at him for resolve, tears dripping down once more.

“I told you to stop crying, are you fuckin’ serious right now?” He reprimanded her, dragging his hand down her face to grip her throat while he repositions himself to hop her higher and adjust her body. “If you start trippin’ she’s gonna find out so, chill.” He mocked her, leaning his head in with his infamous smirk as he brushed his lips against hers. Not too deterred by his girlfriend on the other side. In fact the thrill sets him off and he begins grinding into her once more.

Her eyes flutter with the feeling as she relaxes her body once more, thighs widening around his waist as her manicured hand grips the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah… there you go. Sh, just let me take care of it —of you, alright? No need to worry that empty little head. I got it.” He whispered against her mouth, his chest burning with satisfaction at her submissive whimpers as she whines under her breath.

“Bu-but…” she starts up, her sweet voice filled with guilt as her brows furrow once more in worry. Looking deep into his cobalt eyes as he domineers her with his presence. “She’s my best friend.” She whines sweetly, her voice shaky and demeanor racked with culpability. It makes Rafe want to ruin her that much more, determined to break down her faithfulness to the girl on the other side. It should only be to him, he’ll be damned if it doesn’t happen.

“What about it?” He mocks under his breath, grinding his hips into her once again, watching as her brows furrowed and lips formed an ‘O’ and she fell into his being easily, brain going fuzzier from his cock in her. “She’s my girlfriend, but you didn’t mind too much when you were taking your panties off in my car to show me this pretty pussy, did you? Or when you were kissing and rubbing up on me.” He ridicules her for her earlier actions, for the reason she’s even in this position to begin with. Gaslighting her into believing she was the one who started this, even though he’s the one who knotted the web he caught her in.

“Don’t worry about what she is. Just worry about being good for me, and I’ll take care of it. Kay? Told you that your loyalty lies with me now.” He whispered to her, pressing his lips against hers softly as his girlfriend’s resolve broke and she walked off with a scoff. Leaving the two alone once more —just as it should be, in his mind.

“See? Nothing to worry about. Now where were we.”

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If Rafe said he was surprised he ended up in this position he would be wrong. Because he’d been dying too, ready to claim the little doll he’s had his eye on since the relationship with his girl has fallen into the flames of irreparability. Their toxicity no longer fun and draining as he find himself wishing he’d never got to this point in the first place. Or got with her.

But oh…. her sweet, little best friend has been the salvation he’s been dreaming about. Her mindless way of being consuming his every thought as he calculates how to catch her in his grip. How to ensure she becomes his, and his alone. Friendships and relationships be damned.

And it seems his constant thoughts of her finally manifested in real time. Smirking to himself as he walks out the door of the liquor shop he stopped by to get drinks before heading to Topper’s. His doll faced fantasy sitting outside on the sidewalk in her tiny little dress and cute heels as she sniffles to herself. Glittery eyes decorated with equally glittery tears as she drinks her sorrows away. Tired of the constant berating from everyone around her. Exhausted even.

The perfect time for Rafe to be her knight in shining armor.

“Hey,” he spoke out after leaving the shop. Coming to tower behind her, as he stares down at her. Watching as her gorgeous face turns up to look at him, eyes focusing on him with a false innocence that has every guy on the island vying after her constantly. Tits spilling out of her small dress, cute lace thong peeking out from the short skirt and her position on the sidewalk. French tipped toes in strappy heels pointed together as her knees held against each other. “What’s going on with you? Aren’t you suppose to be at the party? Where’s Maddy?”

He watches as she shrugs, looking down and letting her tears fall onto her smooth legs, that gleam under the moonlight with body glitter and lotion —as pitiful sobs rack from her chest once more. She’s the epitome of pathetic and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of it.

“We had a fight. She dumped me here. Said I was too dumb for her to be around. Too much.” She whispered pathetically, caving in on herself as her blinged, manicured nails fiddle with each other. Her cute nose twitching like a bunny as she sniffles —a baby bunny he’s determined to eat up and savor like the big bad wolf he is.

A scoff leaves Rafe’s mouth as he shakes his head. Lips quirking at the sides, as he speaks to her with insincere consolation in his voice. His pathetic girl, of course she’s too much. Head too empty, and in need of constant guidance. A little lamb wobbling on her weak legs as she attempts to walk and luckily she has him to guide her like a sheppard.

Everyone knew y/n was an airhead —a bimbo. As sad as it is to say, it’s completely accurate. She’d always been too sweet and too dense for her own good, with a banging body and pretty face. Maybe not the sharpest crayon in the box but she sure as hell was always the prettiest. Her point constantly dulled out by the way she was used —by everyone around her. Taking turns and fighting over who gets to color with her. Rafe is the one who’s determined to break her in half and keep her in his pocket. Completely unusable to anyone else except for him.

He remembers when he met her back in high school. Bouncing around Tannyhill during one of Rafe’s functions; in her skimpy outfit as her plump chest practically spilled out. Little, g-string nestled between her cheeks as the bottom of her tiny skirt lifted with her movements. Stumbling around in strappy heels, with manicured toes. Her body shimmering with glitter and flawless complexion shining under the strobing lights of the party. Pretty eyes decorated with sparkles and plump lips glossed as she giggled at the boys surrounding her.

She was the complete opposite of his girlfriend —her best friend. Both equally as beautiful, equally as stunning. But two completely different demeanors. Yin and Yang. Night and Day. Sweet and Salty. And that’s why they worked so well, that’s why they clicked. But that’s also why Rafe realized he had a sweet tooth way more than a savory one. Feeling like he chose the wrong meal when he preferred dessert as he observed her more and more over time —the more and more his relationship fell apart.

When he’d first met Maddy during the end of his junior year, he’d been completely entranced by her domineering and confident attitude. Equal to his and intoxicating. She was a challenge, something to conquer. A kitten with sharp claws he wanted to tame and let scratch him. She had been moving around enticingly in her skimpy cheer uniform during one of their pep rally’s, her sharp eyes gazing at him with desire as she seduced him. She was everything he wanted in a girl. At least that’s what he felt at the time.

Now 3 years into their relationship and he’s really understanding the saying that not all the glitters is gold. Thinking with his dick got his throat ripped out constantly by the lioness he succumbed too. His relationship was quickly and surely falling into the toilet and he was completely ready to flush it away. Tired of the constant fighting, the constant paranoia of setting her off and exhausted from the way she constantly set off the ticking-time-bomb he was.

Him and maddy were nearing the end —that was forsure. At first their toxic attitudes colliding was fun —thrilling even. Now though, it was anything but. She was sick and tired of his dodgy demeanor and asshole tendencies. His need to dominate her and the way he lashed out when he couldn’t. He was sick and tired of her constantly picking away at him, leaving him exasperated as she yapped away anytime he did something she felt was out of bounds. The constant battles for power, the constant attempts at enticing jealousy, the constant paranoia and possessiveness, the constant screaming matches —on both ends.

The sex was getting dull. In fact, it already was. So tired of her bullshit and constantly pressing her face into the sheets just to shut her the fuck up and get his nut in. His desire for her wearing off to the point that he felt like he couldn’t get it up anymore. In fact, she’d already ridiculed him for not being able to keep his dick hard. That’s when he knew, that any passion he may have once had for her had completely weaned away. And all they did was beat an already dead and rotting horse. It was time for something fresh.

The more his relationship declined, the more he noticed y/n. Fuck, she was so sweet. Like a delicate chocolate crafted with the intent to make everyone addicted, with just a taste of her presence. One he wanted no one else but him to savor. Sweet giggles and charming smiles, the way she hugs everyone with her chest pressed tightly to theirs. An air of glittery, demure charm that made everyone want to be around her. Gorgeous body, pretty face and an head so empty he swears if he knocked on it —it would sound hollow.

But the more he observed her, the more he noticed everything. Her constant need for validation, her lack of confidence. The way she so easily fell for anyone who gave her the slightest bit of soft affection. The way she clinged onto people like a stray needing shelter. Sad eyes hidden behind kind smiles, and charming giggles. The way she caved in on herself when she someone disregarded her. It was perfect, the perfect canvas for him to mold at his whim and every desire. The only thing that stopped him was her devotion to her best friend.

Maddy and y/n had been attached at the hip since they were pre-teens. Their friendship may have seemed tight from the outside perspective, but Rafe knew the truth. Their whole circle did.

Maddy saw y/n as her accessory, someone she could manipulate when convenient. Her doll to play with and use however she desires. Constantly speaking to her with a patronizing and condescending tone hidden behind faux care. Berating her with soft words of fake love. Dragging her around whenever she wanted, to wherever she wanted and disregarding her whenever just the same. Making her submit constantly. And y/n let herself, she felt like it was real-genuine love.

So it’s no surprise to Rafe that Maddy tossed her out after a fight. That’s just what she does, to everyone. No regard for anything that isn’t benefiting her. But he should thank her, because she created the perfect situation for him to get what he wants and he’ll be stupid not to take the opportunity. Maybe she was Maddy’s doll to play with, but Rafe would steal her and make her his and his alone. Like a limited edition that only he would have access too.

“Well, uh” he started, staring down at her with pure mischief in his gaze that she would never catch onto. His pathetic girl who needed someone to scoop her up and protect her from the cruel reality surrounding them. “I’m headed over there right now, I could give you a ride. If you’re up to it?” He said sincerely, watching the way her eyes lit up with cheer as the sadness washed away. That bright smile he adores, once again adorning her gorgeous face as she squeaks out a, “really? yes! thank you!”

He walks to stand in front of her and extends his hand out, letting her smaller one grasp his palm as he lifts her up from the sidewalk. Watching as her dress rises up more with her movements and exposes the tiny g-string she wore. His eyes immediately falling to the wrapped up present between her legs as she let out a ‘whoops!’ and adjusts her dress. Pulling it down like it did anything, her ass was still hanging out.

“C’mon, Top’s waiting on me.” He said with charm, gripping her now by her upper arm as he tugged her to the passenger side of his truck and opened it up for her. Letting her grip his hand to step onto the side bar as she lifted herself up —watching as her ass showed from under the dress until she tucked herself away into the passenger seat. “Thanks Rafe”, she told him sweetly. Giving him that pretty smile while he just nodded his head and returned it. Shutting the door and quickly jogging over to the driver’s side.

Once he gets in, he immediately starts the engine —putting his arm over the passenger seat and turning his head back to guide himself out of the parking space. It’s when he turned back forward after reversing and putting the car into gear that he noticed her staring at him. “Got something on my face, or what?” He jokingly griped, turning to look at her as she looked at him with her head tilted —observing him.

“Hmm, no. You’re just like, really pretty you know that?” She giggled, her faux lashes fluttering as Rafe’s lips quirked at the corners from her comment. One foot into the black hole that was Rafe Cameron, one step closer. “Yeah? Well I could say the same about you, doll.” He quipped back, watching as her smile widened and she leaned her body closer to his. Rafe’s fingertips burning with want as her sweet smelling perfume invaded the truck and his senses.

“You’re just saying that,” she said softly, turning her head to look out the window as she fiddled with her tinsled hair. “Nah, I mean it. You’re beautiful.” He said with confidence, watching her turn back to face him as she clung onto his words. Observing the way he reached his arm back to grab a beer out of the case he bought. Biting the cap off and spitting it out before placing it between her parted thighs, then reaching back to grab another for himself. “Um… I’m-I’m already a little buzzed.” She admitted, staring at the beer on her lap after he bit the cap off his; spitting it on the center console. Throwing it back and taking a big chug as he sped down the dark road to Topper’s.

“Y’know, it’s rude to decline a drink from someone who’s being so nice to you.” He drawled, left arm steering the wheel as his he brought the bottle to his lips and took another swig. ‘Future’ playing lowly in the background as he turned to look at her. Watching as she looked at him with guilty eyes and bit her pretty lips between her teeth. “Oh,” she stated softly, grabbing the beer and fiddling with it. “M’sorry Rafe, didn’t meant to be.” She said sweetly, bringing the bottle to her lips as she took a swig —clearly nervous. But the way she did exactly what he said was perfect.

As they both continued to take swigs of their drinks, tension and silence filled the car. Rafe staring at her every once in a while with a look that screamed want. Her looking at him with worry every few seconds when he began speeding up the car. The mileage amping up as they zoomed down the dark road. Her blinged acrylics gripping the seat to ground herself. It’s when Rafe went over a bump and the beer held in between her legs spilled over did she react. ‘Oh!’ she gasped at the cold liquid splashing on her legs.

She began giggling with embarrassment, unbuckling her seat belt and turning to wipe down any that fell on the seat as she looked at him with a coy smile. Rafe staring at her with an impish smirk as he watched her scamper with nerves. Finally settling back down and finishing off what was left of her drink as she held eye contact with him.

“Yeah… you’re real beautiful, doll.” He said with a bewitching tone. His eyes full of burning want that even her dumb, little brain could catch onto. She knew that look, that look in men’s eyes when they vied after her. And she reveled in it, reveled in Rafe’s attention —his validation.

As if entranced, with slow, sensual movements she lifted the skirt of her tight dress just a bit —hooking her thumbs against the edges of her g-string. She lifted her hips and with soft movements, began rolling the material down her thighs and legs seductively. Rafe’s gaze flickering between her little show and her gaze filled with unadulterated desire —when he didn’t need to look at the road. She bit her bottom lip between her teeth as she finally got them off her legs and threw them in the back. Lifting herself to push her upper body out of the open window and spreading her legs to show him the wetness between her legs.

Keeping eye contact as she spread herself open for him until she titled her head back and pushed out her plump chest sensually. Hair swaying cinematically in the wind as she posed for him. Rafe’s entire body burning ablaze and filling with triumph as she fell right into his lap. His eyes lowering to her cute pussy that he wants to ravage and own. Fuck yeah. He was gonna have her, take her. Make her his.

His sweet, little bimbo. His doll.

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When they finally pulled up to Topper’s she had been bent across the center console on her knees; pressing desperate kisses across his cheek and neck. Manicured hand rubbing over the bulge in his pants as she moaned against his skin. Rafe’s left hand white from gripping the steering wheel while his right arm was around her back —hand groping her ass as the tips of his fingers teased her wetness. “Fuck —baby” he started, bringing the truck to a halt outside of the function. Listening to her whine as she pressed sloppy kisses all over him and rubbed his hard-on. “We’re here, doll. Gotta stop.” He watched as she pulled back with a whine, her eyes full of dejection as she moved away from him.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” She mewled, rejection filling her body. Rafe gripped her by the back of her head, leaning his body over the console and bringing her closer till heir lips met in a sloppy, harsh kiss of tongue and teeth clashing. When he pulled back, a string of saliva kept them connected —her eyes fluttering with lust as they stared into each other. “You didn’t shit wrong, baby.” He scolded while shaking her head in his grip. “Nah, in fact you did exactly what you’re suppose to.”

He watched as her eyes lit up, leaning herself into him as much as she could with the barrier. The alcohol buzzing through her veins alongside her burning desire for him. Her head fuzzy and filling up with thoughts of Rafe, Rafe, Rafe. Needing him to do whatever he pleases with her just as long as he keeps giving her attention and love. That’s all she wants, all she needs. Especially from him.

Rafe stopped her before she could connect their lips again, bringing a hand to grip her face and hold her in place as he spoke to her with firmness. “Hey, listen. I know it’s hard for that little brain to think but I need you to listen to me, okay?” He told her, needing her to understand it’s his word that takes priority. Her head nodding as much as it could with the grip on her face. Eyes digging into his own as she awaited his command.

“That’s a good girl, so good for me already.” He praised, watching as her expression changed into satisfaction. Her eyes full of adoration. Perfect, it was all coming together just as he wanted. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, now listen to me very carefully”, he urged. Slowing his words so her head full of air can catch onto them. “M’gonna go in first, okay? Then m’gonna to the upstairs restroom and I want you to meet me there. You know we can’t walk in together.”

The look in her eyes was quickly replaced penitence, the feeling of remorse sinking deep in her gut —filling her body and setting her nerves ablaze. Her need to be loyal quickly filling her senses with the fact that she was kissing on her friend’s man. Her best friend, at that. She tried to move her grip from his face, but Rafe quickly caught on. “Hey, no —relax. We’re not doing anything wrong, doll.” He cooed, consoling her guilt and trying to appease her now anxious demeanor.

“But-“ she tried to start up, quickly cut off by a gruff, “But nothing.” He said harshly, tightening his hold on her as her body tensed with fear at the thought of Maddy finding out. Rafe wouldn’t let that happen, not until he made her —his. She didn’t need to be loyal to anyone but him, least of all Maddy.

“Your loyalty lies with me now, okay? Don’t worry about Maddy, you know we haven’t been good for a long time.” He assured, but the guilt flickering on and off in her gaze was still there and he was determined to snuff it out completely. “She doesn’t care about you. But, I do. I just wanna take care of you, baby. Want you to take care of me too. M’gonna make sure everything is okay, gonna protect you. So stop forcing yourself to think so hard, you know that’s not your thing.” And that was enough for her, her head immediately going back to its dazed state as she relaxed in his grip. Her resolve deflating completely.

“O-Okay” she faltered, letting herself breakdown at his whim. Letting her head fill up once again with only him. “I trust you”, she vowed. Letting herself fall that much more into his black hole of a being. And it’s all Rafe needed to hear, all he needed to know that he gets his way —always. She was going to be his, bound to him completely. Maddy nor even herself would be able to stop it —no. This was the beginning of a relationship that would set ablaze everything they knew. He was more than prepared to either snuff it out or add gasoline to the fire if needed.

Just as long as she knew her place. Knew what she was and who she would dedicate herself too. He would break her down, take away everything she knew. He would ensure she had no one, nothing but him. Destroy what was already left of her mind and wavering self-esteem so she would be completely dependent on him and him alone. It wouldn’t be now, but it’s a start. One he’s determined to finish and come out in triumph.

“That’s my doll. Now be good for me and do as your told. I’ll see you inside.”

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a/n: phew! the first installment set. i didn’t want to copy the scenes verbatim, more so use them as inspo. i hope yall enjoy! pls let me know what you think! much love!

taglist: @littlelamy @xcinnamonmalfoyx @slut-4-gojo @hello-therree @atjlovverr @letmebeyoureuphoria @chroniccorpse @percysley @rafecameronssl4t @rafesangelita @lilbunnysfics @honeyncherry @jjsmermaid @cecehersworld @lethimultraviolenceme

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