#Jamie Campbell bower smut

[maladaptive-jcb]

Mine

NSFW! Under 18 DNI !!

Author's note: His sultry voice had me going especially with the snippets of his Quinn audio I went through so have this short little smut that I was inspired to do. It's my first ever smut but I hope you like it <3

The cold press of his silver necklace sent shivers on your back. A contrast to the heat that both your bodies were sharing. His hands teased tantalizingly on your naked body as he grinded on your rear, his own desire hard and evident for you.

"You feel that, love? Feel what you're doing to me?" His low sultry voice shuddered through his words. Delicious moans escaped from your lips, making him react with a low deep groan in your ear. You begged him not to tease anymore, to give you what you wanted the most.

"A little more, love. Hang in there for me," he said. His wet hot lips started kissing on the back of your ear, right on that sweet spot, then grazing his teeth on your neck. Sucking the skin, marking you. His hands then rove over your chest and found their ways to your supple breasts. Kneading and squeezing. His hips rolled onto you from the back, his pace steady but deliberate. Each movement made you squirm and moan even harder.

"Mmm... That's right. I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don't hold back, darling," he encouraged your vocals. His fingers then grazed on your hardened nipples. He smirked knowing how much you wanted this and he teased them with his thumbs, twisting them in circles.

"J-jamie... Please..." You shivered. You couldn't take it anymore.

"I know, I know... It's coming, love," he reassured you that he will give you what you wanted. His fingers then started pinching and twisting your nipples teasingly. Your body squirmed even further and your ass started arching to his hard bulge in desperation. Annoyed and desiring for him at the same time. He almost couldn't take it at the sight of you so desperate and wanting. Without hesitation, he turned your body to face him and pushed your back towards the bed. His full naked frontal body was then pressing onto yours. Your bodies molding perfectly with each other. His eyes raked over your own naked body, shivering and anticipating.

"So beautiful... I want to see you like this forever..." he admired you before pressing his lips on your neck. His fingers traced down a path in between your legs and feel your heat. You felt his touch and the movement of his fingers rubbing your opening, making you moaned for more. His lips came up to your ear and you could feel the smirk as he whispered, "You're so wet... So ready for me. Be a good girl and spread your legs for me. Spread your legs, darling."

You do as you were told, not wasting any second.

"Look at me. Look into my eyes as I take you, as I make you mine, over and over again," he gaze into your eyes and cupped your face with one hand. You nooded, your gaze never faltered.

He finally pushed himself in slowly, a guttural moan escaped deep from his chest but his eyes stayed on you.

"Oh god," his breath caught in his throat. "You feel so good. So wet and warm for me. You're taking me so good, darling." He pushed deeper, his eyes almost rolling back.

You moaned with every slow thrust, your eyes fell shut at the intense friction of his size and thickness in you.

"Don't close your eyes, I want you to look at me. I want you to see who's making you feel this way," he held your chin as he moved in you.

You opened your half lidded eyes and saw his darkening eyes staring right at you. Claiming you like a predator and you were his prey. There was no mercy. He was going to have you completely with his way.

"Jamie... faster," you whimpered out.

He smirked at your pleading and he couldn't deny your request. His hands moved to the back of your knees and lifted them up to wrap around his waist to positioned himself better.

"You asked for it, I'm not gonna hold back now," he said shakily, waiting for your approval. As soon as he saw you nod, he started picking up the pace. His one arm supporting his weight by resting it on the side of your head and the other holding the back of your knee. With the position, every thrust went deeper and deeper in you, hitting your exact spot, over and over again.

"F-fuck... I'm gonna-" his veins started showing on his neck. His body taut trying to hold it.

You could feel the heat in his gut and his cock aching for a release. Your cunt tightening around him with every thrust, pushing you to the edge.

"Almost... Almost, Jamie," you moaned shakily.

He wanted to push you to the edge. To bring both of you to the high together. You started yelling out his name over and over, the sound of it like music to his ears.

"That's it, love. Let go. I want to see you fall apart in my arms... Just let go," he pushed you further with his thrust.

With his command, your legs tightened around him and shook with your orgasm. Releasing all the built up heat from your gut.

"F-fuck... Oh god," he shook against you as he started coming undone at the sight of your release. "Holy-" his words cut off as his head fell beside you. Both of you tried to regain your breath as you slowly came down from the high.

He fluttered his eyes open, admiring your state under his arms. Your body glistened from the afterglow, face flushed and hair sticking to your forehead.

"You're so beautiful, my love. I'm so grateful you're mine," he said softly and pressed his lips on your forehead.

[angelst4re]

hear me out. headcanons for jamie when you ask him to be rough in bed with you for the very first time. and when he's more than happy to do it for you. and you're justOH.MY.FUCKING.GOD.

good lord i’ve missed tumblr.

jamie x gn!reader headcanons <3

just something short and sweet but also EXTREMELY NSFW LOOK AWAY RN!!!!!….. or don’t 🫶

It came to you when you were giving him head, he had his cock hitting the back of your throat and you could tell he was getting close

He thrusted his hips up and held you down so you couldn’t move, forcing you to take more of him as he came

Once he realised what he did, he immediately apologised and swore to never do it again

But you weren’t having that.

It was the hottest thing ever

“You like it when I’m rough with you, huh?” He smirked, pulling you up from the floor.

He made sure there was a safe word in place because he didn’t want to push you too far

He held your arms above your head whilst he fucked you, watching you squirm beneath him

He had you on your knees as he fucked you relentlessly from behind, one hand around your throat with the other tugging a hardened nipple

“This rough enough for you, darling?” You would growl in your ear, but you were too fucked out to respond

You had already came three times and he didn’t show any signs of stopping any time soon, yet you were still catching your breath from your first orgasm.

He had also experimented by biting the side of your neck, and it was clear to him you were enjoying it

So by the time he was done with you, you had bruises around your neck, chest and thighs

And when you finally come down from your high seeing him panting above you, messy hair, body glistening with sweat…

“We’ll definitely be doing that again, sweetheart.”

AHHHHHHHHHH

[jcbbby]

oooooh buddy. yikes yikes yikes. okay, this is my first just straight up smut fic. this is NOT my usual thing at all, so like…this may be absolute garbage??? I’m sorry in advance lmaoooo. this is also like, SO LONG I feel like, because I just literally don’t know how to get the fuck to the point and I just keep writing? lol side note, this is for those who have ever needed to get railed in a sun dress. ;)

If you’re not comfortable with this type of fic, please don’t read! I still love you either way! <3

Warnings: 18+ only MINORS LOOK AWAY, rpf but in an alternate universe, age gap (reader is like 19, Jamie is 34), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not try at home, kids), oral (female receiving), obvious major power dynamic issue lol, kinda a slow burn? Idk what I’m doing

*************************************************************

It was a warm and humid late May Friday afternoon. You walked through the courtyard, tossing your hair up into a loose bun to get it off your neck in this heat. You dressed for the temperature, wearing a short yellow sun dress with spaghetti straps, complete with strappy sandals showing off your pedicured toes. You were ready for your week-long stay in the Florida Keys, a cliché but nevertheless exciting college summer vacation. Your first year of college was ending, and the only thing that stood in your way of you and your friends’ trip was your final exam for Professor Bower’s class.

Truth be told, you were a little disappointed to be finishing his class, even though it was just a standard required English literature course. You often found yourself absentmindedly staring up at him as he sat on the edge of his desk, a pen tucked with soft blonde locks behind his ear, leading a group discussion on the assigned reading. His high cheek bones, chiseled jaw, pale blue eyes, the wrinkles that would form in the corner of his eyes as he smiled at wonderfully thought-out opinions and analyses from the students, his charming British accent.

There was that one time he leaned in close at your desk to look over your work, feeling the warmth of his body radiate against you, his cologne lingering for a few moments after walking away. How he said your name when calling on you to answer a question. How you would drift off into a daydream wondering how your name would sound leaving his lips in a much more intimate setting… You spent the whole semester in his class feeling a yearning deep in your core. You were going to milk today’s time in his classroom as long as you could. Perhaps you had also worn the outfit you had chosen for more than just the heat wave, hoping to catch his attention just once before parting ways.

The campus was quieter than usual, with many students having already finished their exams and left for the summer. You had some time before your exam and decided to stop by the café on campus for a coffee and last minute study session. After being handed your drink, you went to take a seat on one of the couches and took out your notebook, scanning over the pages of notes.

“Ah, a little cramming session?” A familiar voice said in front of you.

You looked up from being buried in the pages to see him, Professor Bower. He was dressed much more casual than usual. In a pair of black jeans with a white t-shirt and a black blazer over it.

You smiled. “Oh…well, you know. Couldn’t hurt, right?” He looked incredible; you loved this more laid back look on him. Not that he didn’t look great in a tie as well. “You look like you’re ready for summer vacation.”

He looked down at his outfit and back up to you with a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured I’d tone it down for this last day, maybe help everyone relax for the exam… you look like you’re in summer vacation mode as well. You look…very nice.” He looked you up and down, lingering a little longer than you expected somewhere below your eyeline.

You blushed and felt butterflies in your abdomen. “Oh um…thank you. I-I’m heading south after this.” You cursed yourself in your head for saying it like an innuendo.

“You don’t say, how fun.” He grinned. “Well, I better go get everything printed. I’ll see you in class. Good luck on the exam, Y/N.”

You nodded with a meek smile as he turned and headed off in the other direction. All you could think about were his eyes on you, how you would have loved to see what his hands would have done, and how tightly your thighs were squeezing together.

****

The classroom was dead silent during the exam, except for the scribbling of pens and pencils across pages. Jamie was sitting at his desk at the front of the room, glancing over his macbook every so often at the room. You found it hard to focus after your encounter earlier, looking up frequently to gaze at him. On a few occasions, he caught you, your eyes meeting for a brief second before you frantically and embarrassingly looked back down at the exam. He would smirk to himself as you felt your cheeks grow hot. You’re blowing it, you thought to yourself.

One by one, each of your classmates brought their finished exams up to the front, with Jamie quietly telling each of them to have a good summer.

“30 minutes left, guys.” He announced to the few of you remaining.

He looked directly at you, holding your gaze for what felt like an eternity before going back to his work on his laptop. You looked back down at your exam, now furiously writing, worried that you wouldn’t finish because of your distracted mind. Not only were you embarrassing yourself in front of the hot professor, but you would also fail his class. Before you knew it, it was just you and Jamie left in the classroom. You glanced to the clock, swallowing hard.

“Time’s up, love.” He said from his desk.

You sighed, gathering your belongings and making your way to the front. You handed your packet to him. “I uh…I didn’t finish. I’m sorry…”

Jamie tutted as he reached for the papers. “Even with that last minute study session?”

“I guess I was…a little distracted…” You shifted on your feet.

“Distracted?” Jamie leaned back in his chair. “Anything you’d want to talk about?” The look in his eyes felt ravenous, like they were reeling you in as prey.

“I don’t know…” You started as he stood up and began walking around to the front of the desk. You felt your breathing get heavier and a sudden wave of confidence washed over you. “I-I uh…kept thinking about how good you look in that blazer…”

Jamie let out a soft chuckle as he came to sit on the front of his desk like usual. “Is that so?”

You turned slightly to face him. “And…how good you’ve looked all semester...how I’ve been hoping you’d notice me…” Your entire body was electrified, being this close to him, desperately wanting his hands on you.

Jamie smirked, taking your arm and guiding you in between his slightly spread legs. Your breath hitched. His hands rested at your hips, sending aching pulses straight to your pussy.

“Darling, I’ve noticed. You always wearing those short skirts, twirling your pen in your mouth in class, not even knowing you’re driving me wild…but we both know I can’t get involved like that with a student…as much as I want to…” His voice was low, you felt his hands start to caress your hips and move towards your ass.

“But I’m technically not your student anymore…the exam is over, I’m done with your class.” You put your hands on his chest, leaning into him, feeling his chest rise and fall with more force. You craned your neck up at him.

He snorted a laugh. “You know I meant as a university student here in general…fuck, you look so good in this dress though.” His hand now resides firmly on your ass.

You began tracing circles with your finger on his chest, looking up at him with your best doe eyes. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell…” You whispered, pressing yourself into him, feeling him harden beneath you.

Jamie groaned quietly with a slight chuckle. “Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me....fuck it.”

He hungrily pressed his lips into yours, both of you immediately softly moaning into the other’s mouth, overwhelmed with want. You move your hands from his chest, wrapping them around his neck. His tongue greedily asked for entrance at your lips, which you wasted no time allowing it in, twirling yours with his. A semester’s worth of desire was erupting inside you, finally coming to fruition.

As you both clumsily tried to get more of each other’s mouths, Jamie’s hands planted firmly on the underside of your thighs, lifting you up against him. Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun around, sitting you down on his desk, never once breaking contact. He slid the blazer off over his shoulders, tossing it on to his chair behind the desk. You didn’t know he had tattoos. He had always worn blazers or long sleeve button ups. It was a welcomed surprise, you always had a weak spot for tattoos.

You pulled back from him, allowing you both to catch your breath. “You wanna fuck me right here on your desk?” You asked playfully.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you on this desk from day one.” He smirked, placing another kiss on your cheek before turning away.

He slipped over to the door, twisting the lock with a click. You were already so wet with anticipation, but you were still relatively new to sex, and suddenly felt a pang of apprehension creep in. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t exactly experienced. Aside from a less than notable prom night at a motel, you hadn’t seen much action. But this was a man, a probably very experienced man, and you were worried about impressing him.

Turning back from the door, he paused just for a moment, taking note of your changed body language. “Hey, you okay? You know, we can stop here if you want.” He walked back to you, standing between your legs, placing a hand on your outer thigh.

“No, no I’m fine. I want this. I want you…I just…I’ve only had sex once.” You looked away, embarrassed.

Jamie chuckled. “Oh, darling…” He cooed as he brought his hand to your cheek. “You can trust me. I can go as easy as you want.” His gentle care turned you on even more.

You brought your hand to his on your cheek and pulled it down, pressing it to your aching heat between your thighs, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “What if…I don’t want you to go easy.” You whispered. “How about you teach me something new, professor…”

His eyes went from where you placed his hand, and back up to your eyes. “Shit…you’re so wet.” He breathed; you felt his fingers lightly moving against your clothed cunt. “You sure you want this?”

“Mhm...god, I want you.” You nodded, staring at his lips, hoping his fingers would find their way under the barrier separating them from where you needed them.

Jamie crashed his lips into yours, as you clamored your hands over his shoulders and arms, hoping to pull him closer. His hand remained between your legs, teasing you with pressure that just wasn’t enough. You brought one hand down to his emerging bulge, caressing him through his jeans. A soft moan came from his throat as he rocked his hips slightly, before pulling away from you and taking your hand off of him. You looked confused.

“No, no. Your hands stay above both our waists, got it? Now, lie back.” He smirked.

You did as he said, slowly lowering yourself back on to the desk, keeping eye contact with Jamie. He remained between your legs, a hand on either thigh. He slowly pushed his hands up toward your hips, bringing the bottom hem of your dress up with them, exposing your light blue panties that were splotched with your excitement. He smiled to himself seeing how turned on you were for him. He glanced up at you, just scanning one more time for any sense of hesitation, before hooking his fingers around the band of them, and sliding them down your legs.

He tucked them into his back pocket, bending over you, meeting your lips again. He nipped at your bottom lip, as he reached back down, tracing a finger lightly over your slit. Your hips bucked upward, begging for more stimulation. Jamie smirked against your lips as he took his finger to your clit and began tracing tight circles. He moved his lips from yours down to your neck, biting and suckling, no doubt leaving marks that would take a few days to fade. You squirmed under his touch, aching for even more.

“Professor Bower…” you moaned.

“Call me Jamie, love.” He said against your neck.

“Jaaamiee…” You moaned again.

“Fuck, I love the sound of that.” He groaned, removing his finger from your bundle of nerves, a whimper leaving your mouth at the loss of contact.

He pushed you slightly backward, giving him the right angle now to place a delicate kiss on your thigh. He smirked up at you briefly before then moving planting his mouth on to your eager cunt. His tongue worked euphoric circles on your clit, not wasting any time also plunging a finger inside you. You gasped, grinding your hips down into his face, tensing yourself, your hands automatically tangling themselves up in his hair. Suddenly, he stopped.

“Hey. What did I say? Hands above the waist, or I won’t touch you anymore.” He said sharply.

“But…it feels so good…I can’t.” You say, catching your breath.

“Well then I guess we’re done here.” He started to stand up.

“No! Please…please keep touching me. I’ll be good.” You bit your lip.

Jamie smiled devilishly as he sank back down to his position. “That’s my good girl.”

He returned to working on you with his tongue, pumping in and out with his finger. You tried to stifle your increasing moans, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. Jamie moaned into your pulsating heat, causing vibration, and sending shockwaves through your core. You gripped the edges of the desk, trying to follow Jamie’s rule, writhing under him. You bucked your hips up as he slipped in a second finger, pumping rhythmically as he swirled his tongue.

“Shit…shit I-..” You breathed.

“You’re doing so well, baby. That’s it. I’ve got you.” Jamie pressed a hand to your lower abdomen, increasing the growing pressure in your belly.

Without thinking, you grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly as you squirmed, feeling your release building. He smiled against you at this innocent and intimate gesture, intertwining his fingers with yours, still suckling your sensitive bud. He curled his fingers upward inside you in a beckoning motion.

“Jamie, fuck, I-…I’m gonna…”

"Yes, love. Go on, cum for me. Cum just for me." Jamie kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh.

You felt your orgasm crash over you. Your legs quivered as your head fell back in ecstasy. He caressed your hand in his with his thumb as he kept rubbing your clit with his other, helping you ride out your high. He came back up to your lips as you came down in a haze, tasting yourself as he kissed you.

“You still with me, love?” He asked chuckling, pulling you to sit upward again.

“Yeah…no one’s ever gone down on me before. You’ve set the bar really high, though.” You panted, buzzing all over.

“Good.” He smirked, leaning into kiss you again.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him. All of him. Right then. You brought your hands up to his belt, eagerly undoing it as he smiled against your lips. He assisted in removing the belt and pushing his jeans down, his cock springing out over the band of his boxers as he pulled them down. He spit into his hand and wrapped around his cock, stroking himself a few times as he stared at you, taking you all in with his eyes before he had his way.

"I need you...I need you right now, Jamie. Please." The words poured out of your mouth, dripping in lust.

Jamie chuckled. "So desperate for me...you're so good for me."

He lined himself up with your waiting cunt, still seated on the edge of the desk. Slowly, he pushed himself in. Your breath hitching as his width stretched your walls, and he let out a moan as he bottomed out. He kissed and bit at your lips as he paused a moment for you to adjust to him, before starting an even and pace of slow, deep thrusting.

“God, I’ve thought of this while I’ve fucked my hand so many times…shit. You feel so good around me, baby.” He said in a gruff voice before burying his face into your neck, his teeth looking to leave more bruises.

“Me too.” You whispered. “Mmm, fuck me, Jamie.”

“Mmm, say that again, love. Say my fucking name.” He groaned, thrusting deeper.

“Mmmm, oh god, please fuck me, Jamie.” You moaned into his ear, your hands sliding through his hair, gripping his blonde hair tight as your eyes closed.

In a swift motion, Jamie pushed you down on your back again, pulling your legs up into his arms. His pace quickened, thrusting hard and fast into you from this angle. With your legs open and held up like this, he was hitting exactly where you needed it. He was fucking you like he wanted you to never forget it, and you knew you never would; you could never after this.

“You’re my fucking girl.” He grunted. “Say it.” He delivered a hard smack to the side of your ass cheek, with your legs still on either side of him. You let out a yelp as his large hand made contact with your soft skin.

“I’m your girl.” You panted. “I’m your girl, Jamie.”

He continued pounding into you. Both of you had long since given up trying to stifle yourselves. You reached down to your clit, circling it with your fingers, looking Jamie directly in the eye. He smiled wickedly with a chuckle as he watched you touch yourself while he fucked you. You felt him twitch inside you, being driven wild at the sight before him.

“Fuck, baby...that’s so sexy…I don’t think I can last much longer.” He gripped your thighs tight in his hands. “Where do you want it?” He asked.

“Inside.” You moaned. “I have an IUD. I want to feel you cum in me.” You arched your back, feeling a second high approaching.

“Okay. Fuuuck. I-…I’m-“

He reached his released, throwing his head back with a string of expletives. You felt his warm, thick seed spill into you, sending you over the edge at the sensation. You clenched around his cock, your body quivering with pleasure. As you both came down from the euphoria, Jamie’s pumping stopped and he stayed still, not yet pulling out of you. He let your legs fall and pulled you back up towards him, his hand sliding up into your hair, while his other hand rested on the small of your back. He placed a delicate kiss on your lips, pulling back as your sweaty foreheads rested together while you both caught your breath.

“Well, I think you passed the exam.” Jamie chuckled.

You laughed. “I’ve always been a bit of a teacher’s pet, hm?”

He slowly pulled out of you, reaching over to a roll of paper towels kept near the whiteboard to help with cleanup of the mess you had both made of yourselves and the desk.

“So… I’m teaching a poetry class next semester.” Jamie began as you finished straightening yourselves and the room up. “If you’re interested in any further extracurricular activities...” He winked.

“You know, I just might switch to being an English major. I suddenly really love literature classes.”

[oskea93]

← Take Me Away (Intro) →

OC x Jamie Campbell Bower (AU 1970s)  Warnings: TW—> This story will contain the following: (domestic violence, physical/verbal assault, cursing, sexual content, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, self harm). Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. This is a work of fiction only. I do not own Jamie or any other famous people mentioned. 

A/N: Hello again! So I decided to restart this story again because i'm currently in my JCB era and there just needs to be more stories out there featuring this man! With that being said, Jamie will not be the Jamie we know and love today. His name and image is being used, but there will be moments where he is not a very nice guy. Kind of like Caleb from Horizon. But there will also be moments where he is the lovable guy he typically is. I just want to thank those that either stuck with this fic or just recently found it!

☺︎ IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, JUST DROP A COMMENT ☺︎

“So, tell me about Jamie.”

“What do you wanna know?”

The interviewer looked down at her notes, “What was life with him like – in private.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, somewhat afraid to answer. “Chaotic- “I started. “Wonderful in many ways but a total shitstorm all at the same time. He knew what to say and when to say it, but his words and actions weren’t always pleasing.”

I paused, searching for the right words to convey the whirlwind that was our life together. “Jamie was incredibly charismatic. He could light up any room he walked into, and people were naturally drawn to him. His charm was almost intoxicating; it made you feel special just being around him. But that charm had a flip side. In private, it wasn’t always so magical. There were days when his mood would swing dramatically, and you never knew what to expect.”

“How so?” The interviewer questioned.

I shrugged my shoulders, slouching a bit in my seat as I reflected on the complicated nature of the person in question. "He was his own villain," I began, my voice tinged with a mix of sympathy and disappointment. "He tried so hard to make a name for himself in the industry. After years of working closely with all these high-profile artists, indulging in the debauchery they played with, he lost sight of who he truly was."

I paused, choosing my words carefully as I continued, "Your sins catch up to you eventually, and the way you treat people changes. It's like a slow erosion of your values and morals until one day, you look in the mirror and realize you're not the person you thought you were."

My companion listened intently, absorbing my words before posing a poignant question, "Was he the love of your life?" The inquiry hung in the air, laden with layers of emotion and history, hinting at a deeper connection that transcended professional ties and delved into matters of the heart.

As I delved into the depths of my memories, recounting the chapters of my life that intertwined with the complexities of rising to fame at the tender age of 17, I knew that the tale of Jamie and me would be a pivotal thread in the fabric of my story. It was a narrative rooted in scandal and secrecy, a forbidden love that blossomed amidst the chaotic backdrop of rock 'n' roll excess and the stark contrast of a preacher's daughter entwined with a man hired to shield her from the very temptations she found herself succumbing to.

We wove a web of deception, attempting to shield our burgeoning relationship from prying eyes and wagging tongues, but the silent exchanges, the subtle gestures, and the lingering gazes between us belied the truth we sought to conceal. Jamie was a force of nature, a whirlwind of contradictions that both thrilled and terrified me in equal measure. His charm was a siren song that beckoned me into uncharted waters, his humor a balm to soothe the turbulence within my soul, his love a flame that flickered dangerously close to consuming us both.

In Jamie, I found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime who mirrored my own reckless abandon and insatiable thirst for life. He was the grenade to my pin, the catalyst that ignited a chain reaction of emotions and experiences that would forever alter the course of my existence. He was the bomb to my clock, ticking away the moments until our inevitable collision, our destinies irrevocably intertwined in a dance of passion and peril.

I had always been taught that God sends people into our lives for a reason, be it for our growth or our downfall. Jamie was no exception—a temporary fix that morphed into a permanent fixture, a fixture that brought both the brightest joys and the darkest sorrows of my young life. His presence was a paradox, a riddle wrapped in an enigma, a conundrum that I struggled to unravel even as I found myself ensnared in the web of our shared destiny.

I shifted in the plastic seat, my denim-clad legs crossing tightly. “Well—” I spoke, my voice wavering slightly. “That’s quite a title to give someone who could love you one minute and then treat you worse than a dog the next.” I smiled sadly, the memories flooding back with a mix of warmth and pain.

As I penned the words that would immortalize our tumultuous love affair on the pages of my memoir, I couldn't help but marvel at the intricate tapestry of fate that had woven our paths together. The story of Jamie and me was a testament to the volatile alchemy of passion and pain, of love and loss, of growth and destruction—a story that would echo through the annals of time as a cautionary tale of the perils and pleasures of forbidden love. And as I laid bare the raw truths of our tumultuous romance, I knew that Jamie would forever hold a piece of my heart, a shard of my soul, a chapter in my life that would never truly be closed.

[anthonyhopeswife]

ˏˋ headcanons ˎˊ ୨୧ anthony  hope  ♡  reader (  nsfw  )

✧ pet names. anthony is OBSESSED with being called pet names. ‘pretty boy’, ‘good boy’, ‘sweet boy’, ‘baby boy’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘angel’... all of the above!

✧ of course, he also has plenty of sweet nicknames for you, too, such as ‘princess’ and ‘my love’ and ‘darling’ – among many others. he shows his adoration for you through words because he feels that touch isn’t nearly enough to convey how much he feels for you.

✧ he has the biggest kink of all time for recieving praise. he needs to hear you tell him what a good boy he is and how good he’s making you feel. he just wants so badly to please you :(( <3

✧ he gets inexplicably embarrassed by his own come and tries to clean up his mess as quickly as possible.

✧ yours, however? that’s a completely different story. he loves tasting you. he’ll lick it off of his fingers or clean you off with his tongue in a heartbeat if you give him permission to do so.

✧ he moans “i love you” while you’re fucking him. ( and, of course, you always say it right back to him, because how could you not? )

✧ anthony likes it when you give him love bites and hickies – especially since he can hide them easily under his scarf. the thought of belonging to you is a major turn on for him.

✧ anthony is surprisingly loud in the act. he whimpers and whines a lot. he’d be shy and self-conscious about this at first, but once you reassure him that you like hearing his pretty noises and encourage him to keep making them for you, he would do so gladly.

✧ his eyes roll back when he’s close to finishing.

✧ his favorite position is cowgirl. he loves it when you’re on top of him, controlling the pace and riding him into the mattress.

✧ he’s very well-mannered in bed. he says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. he always asks for permission and he does exactly as he’s told. he’s a good boy!! <3

✧ he usually prefers for you to be very gentle with him, but he also likes it when you’re a little playfully mean from time to time. teasing him, making him beg just to be touched or kissed, edging him and denying his orgasm over and over... yeah. he likes that. of course, he always trusts you to hold him in your arms afterwards and tell him how much you love him. usually he’ll fall asleep like that as you’re stroking his hair and whispering sweet things to him.

✧ prior to the two of you living together, he’ll let you fuck him in absolutely any place you can find that’s private. he spends his life moving between the bountiful and various docks/ports, so it’s incredibly rare to have a moment just between the two of you. a risky quickie is occasionally necessary, given the circumstances.

✧ in addition to that, need i remind you that anthony is LOUD. you may have to let him bury his face in your neck or maybe even put your hand over his mouth in order to keep him quiet and not get caught.

✧ he has a kink for being overpowered. it’s particularly evident in the way he reacts whenever you pin his wrists to the mattress or push him up against a wall.

✧ one of his absolute favorite things in the world is when you’re spooning him and you reach around to jerk him off from behind. the combination of being held in your arms and the pleasure of you touching him is everything he could ask for.

✧ if you tug on his hair or bite his lip while you’re kissing him, he’ll moan into your mouth.

✧ when it comes to oral, he’s more of a giver than a receiver; he simply adores pleasing you with his mouth. making you moan, feeling your hands tangled in his hair, hearing you praise him and tell him how good he’s making you feel, getting to taste you once you’ve come on his tongue... it’s heaven for him. he especially loves when you ride his face.

✧ contrary to popular belief, i don’t think he’s entirely clueless about sex prior to meeting you. he’s a sailor, so even in spite of how puritanical people tended to be in the victorian era, he’s certainly heard more than his fair share of crude stories from the men in his crew, as well as the ones he’s met during his travels. that being said, he’s still definitely a virgin before the two of you cross paths, and he doesn’t have any real sexual experience yet.

✧ he definitely likes being fucked with a strap-on. do with that what you will.

✧ he’s turned on by being ( very lightly ) choked. just feeling your hand brush against his neck or your fingers wrap around his throat while you’re kissing him drives him MAD.

✧ he giggles whenever you accidentally brush against or kiss a ticklish spot during sex.

✧ he likes for you to grab his hips and pin them down while you suck him off. a recurring theme here is that he REALLY likes getting pinned down.

✧ he gets so insanely turned on by dirty talk. all it takes is for you to tease him about how eager he is or talk about all the filthy things you’re going to do to him, and he’s already a blushing, moaning mess.

✧ no matter how rough or intense things may get, the romantic aspect of sex is very important to anthony. in his eyes, sex is a way for you to feel and convey your love for one another, and so other aspects of affection have to be present during lovemaking. kisses, hand holding, cuddling, declarations of love, just to name a few.

[mikqls0n]

Meddle about || Jamie bower x reader

Summary: the song meddle about

Warnings: smut, not edited, first time doing smth like this so..

Extra: ty @angelst4re for telling me this idea😍

Come get it now,come get it now.Baby show me what you’re doing,come and turn around

You were sitting on top of jamie in only your shirt,while Jamie laid beneath you,his hands resting on your hips as he watched you bouncing on his cock,you both loving the feeling of it sliding in and out of you.

‘Cause it’s not just a figure of speech,you got me down on my knees,it’s getting harder to breath

You were spread across the bed, loud moans were the only thing that came out of your mouth as you tugged on Jamie’s hair,whose face was between you things,pushing his tongue in and out of you. Jamie slowly brought up his hand and teasing your clit with his index finger before pushing it past his tongue,making you left out an gasp as your grip on his hair tightened.

We only met each other just the other day,but you already got me feeling some type of way/If I could figure it out I’d take you back to my house so we could meddle about

Jamie pushed his front door open, his lips not leaving choirs a second as he closed his door and pushed you against it.you unbuttoned his shirt as quickly as possible as his lips found its way to your neck, sucking on it that lead you moaning out his name.when you were both only left in your underwear, Jamie picked you up by wrapping your legs around his waist and walked upstairs to his bedroom,your lips leaving kisses on his collarbone.

Girl Just scream it out,tell me what you’re thinking,oh I wanna see you undress now

Your panties were pushed to the side as jamie roughly pushed inside you,making you scream.Jamie smirked at you as he pulled out and thrusted into you again all the way in.

[olibxr]

Jamie Campbell Bower x Male! Reader (SMUTTY SMUT SMUT)

CW: smut, blowjobs, degrading names (slut, cockwhore, Subby etc), cuffs, slapping, basically a rough face fucking 🩷 Jamie is Dom!

Reader has a dick and language is used to mention this! I personally find these kind of fics euphoric to read considering I'm a trans guy so feel free to also enjoy!

Oral fixation

-------

"C'mon Baby, I know you can take it" Jamie groaned as his hands gripped your hair, controlling the teasingly slow movements of your head against his cock. No matter how many times you sucked Jamie off, you'd never get used to his size and how it would feel thrusting against your throat.

You were on your knees, your hands cuffed behind your back and naked, your evidently aching cock between your legs. Just as Jamie liked you. Jamie, however, was fully dressed with his cock slipping through the zipper of his jeans. He liked this aspect of your submission, he loved how degrading it was for you to be vulnerable in no clothing whilst he was still fully clothed. He loved the power it gave him.

With a sudden jerk of his hips, Jamie's cock hit the back of your throat and your eyes began to crystal over as you tried your best not to gag. You squeezed your eyes shut momentarily before you felt a sting on your cheek.

"Eyes open. Look at me whilst I fuck your slutty little throat." Jamie gritted through his teeth as he stared down at you, using his grip on your hair to move your head against his cock before you had a moment to adjust to his size. This was how you liked it though. You liked him to take control, you liked it when he stared down at you and put you in your place.

Your eyes sprung open at the command and looked up at him as he met your gaze with a slight smirk. He knew the effect he had on you. As he began to quicken the pace of his thrusts, you groaned as you began to mindlessly grind against thin air, needy and desperate to just be touched.

"Keep still! That's it, fucking take it!" Jamie growled as you immediately stopped your pathetic movements, whimpering as he tightened his grip on your hair and began to thrust erratically into your mouth. "You love my cock don't you, Subby? Such a cockwhore for me." You tried your best to nod against his iron grip as he let out beautiful moans that spurred on your need to be touched even more. Jamie was a talker, and you loved when he talked dirty. He's always had such a filthy mouth that could make you drop to your knees in an instant.

Jamie wiped the drop of drool that began to slowly drip down your chin with his thumb, smirking down at your fucked out expression as he used your mouth. "Such a good boy for me, taking my cock so fucking well like always." His use of praise reddened your cheeks as you shifted on your knees. You wanted him, and you wanted him bad.

After a while of relentlessly fucking your face, he roughly pulled out of your mouth. Like the good submissive he taught you to be, you immediately stuck out your tongue as he rapidly jerked himself off over your face. Jamie moaned the most perfect fucking sounds as his cum spurted over your tongue, cheeks and chin. His grip was still in your hair as you swallowed what was in your mouth before sucking on his thumb that wiped the excess off your face. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, pulling you up by your cuffed arms before bending you over the bed, landing a few smacks to your ass.

"I hope you're not tired yet, Baby. I'm not finished with you quite yet."

_________________

BYE this was so fucking hot to write I love Jamie so much😭

[littleskittles325]

About me/what I write

About me: I absolutely love 60-90’s music, I live to write and draw, I love all David Bowie songs and movies.

Message me if you have a request! 📱

Right now I’m writing smut/fluff/angst(try) with

Avatar

Guns���n roses

Queen

Joe Quinn

Jamie campbell bower

Stranger things

(smut:only 18+)

The 100

David Bowie

If you have any others I can try to do those too!

Accepting any requests for them!

I only write with female main character

I will see all requests from 9am-10pm

Updates:

5/26-working on 6 posts at the moment! Get ready🌸

7/9- working on pt.3 of something new and two more posts.🌟

8/14- I’m sorry for not posting,everything has been real crappy this past month. I have 4 stories upcoming.

12/23-New story posted, part 2 for sweet words, dirty thought coming soon!

Thanks

- Luv,littleskittles325

[lildashofheaven1]

Emetophobia

Joseph Quinn x y/n

Joe helping you through your struggles with emetophobia

“Joey i-i cant, i dont wanna throw up” i sobbed as i was hunched over the toilet in our shared apartment.

We had been out all day and all day i’ve felt so sick, it might just be a viral flu but i have an extreme phobia of being ill and vomiting.

I had originally kept joe out of the bathroom by locking the door, i hate my phobia and i dont want him to see me like this. However with some kind words (and a screwdriver) he got through and was now sat on the floor with me rubbing my back and encouraging me through it.

“Cmon baby, it’ll be 5 minutes and you’ll feel better” he said gently in my ear.

“I-i cant, i-im scared” i started having a panic attack as i felt like i was going to throw up.

“Hey- hey cmon sweetheart, you’re okay darling” he said as he held my shoulders gently and took my hand and held it on his chest.

“Follow my breathing my love, your okay, you just need to throw up, your bodys telling you what it needs and it needs to be sick” he comforted me.

“Joey im scared- throwing up makes me stop breathing and i hate-i hate it” i sobbed into his neck.

“I know darling- i know, you’re not gonna feel any better unless you get whatever’s making you sick out of your tummy” he said as he gently rubbed my stomach.

He raised his arm above my head and grabbed the glass of water he had gotten me.

He held the glass to my lips and said

“Sip a little bit my love it’ll help” he almost whispered in my ear.

I did as he asked and we sat there for around 10 more minutes with my stomach cramping from the sickness.

“Joey” i mumbled as i readjusted

He looked down at me and said

“Yes my love”

I felt it again and lunged forward while saying “m gonna throw up”

He immediately grabbed my hair back as i emptied my stomach with him holding my hair up with one hand and rubbing my back, as i took breaks from vomiting he held the glass of water to my mouth again.

I eventually sat back against his chest

“Do you think your all done baby?” He asked

“Yeah i think so” i mumbled to him.

“Good girl, your so brave i love you so much, my brave girl” he said to me as he kissed my neck.

“Cmon lets get you back to bed” he said as he picked me up with one arm below my back and the other below my behind.

He sat me on the bed and thats when i realised i had puke on my shirt.

“Arms up my love” he said to me, i did as he asked and he took my shirt off along with my shorts and got me dressed into one of his shirts and left me in my panties as i was boiling.

I stood up about to take the dirty clothes straight to the wash.

“What do you think your doing love?” He smiled at me

“Leave that for me, i was going to get you your bottle of water anyway” he said as he let me lay in our bed and he passed me the remote.

He returned minutes later with my big bottle of water, and we sat together in our bed and watched whatever was on tv.

I love this man so much, he loves me for all the reasons i dont love myself and i couldnt thank him enough for that.

[maladaptive-jcb]

Your Grumpy Roommate

NSFW 18+ only!

Author's note: Since my first smut before this, I actually had a lot of fun writing it and seeing that some of you liking it. Here's another one for you. Female reader x Jamie Campbell Bower. Smut warning. Shower sex. Fingering. P to v sex. Enemies to lovers. One shot. Being dominated. Kinda cute. Slow burn, I guess?

Renting an apartment alone in the city was nearly impossible with your finance issues and minimum wage salary. After a long search, you finally settled to sharing a space with another man in an apartment. You weren't one to share, especially with a strange man but you didn't have a choice. You stepped into your new place and saw him there. A blonde man, striking blue eyes and sharp jawlines. He greeted you with a British accent. His name was Jamie.

You had been living with him for months and most of the time, it had not been a pleasant experience. You were expecting to at least live with a friendly roommate. Cheerful at least. But, no. Jamie was always grumpy and always kept to himself. He won't even stare at you for more than five seconds before walking away.

Most of the times, he will be out for his shows or band practice. It was as if he couldn't stand being in the same room with you, which made you feel unwelcomed and rejected.

The times that you guys did spend talking was when you two were at each other's throats. You'd get mad at him for finding his stuff all over your space like his socks on the living room floor, his unwashed mugs on the kitchen counter and that stupid guitar right in the middle that you kept tripping over. He then will yell at you for taking too long in the bathroom, leaving your underwears in the dryer when he had to use it and having to see you asleep on the couch in the middle of the day.

Every day, there will be something new to be upset about, and every day, the argument would end with him walking out on you, as if he couldn't control what he was about to do if he stayed another second longer.

It could be worse, you thought as you convinced yourself to stay in the apartment. There was no other place you could go. You couldn't afford it.

You woke up one morning to find the apartment empty. You scanned all over the place just to make sure he wasn't home until you spotted his dirty dishes on the sink again and the full trash can that he didn't pick up before he left. Frustrated, you walked into the bathroom to relax before your blood pressure started to rise again.

You drew a nice bath, filled with a pink bath bomb and essential oils. You were just gonna put your airpods on, listen to some music and relax in the water.

Just be patient. It's gonna be okay. You told yourself as you closed your eyes, soaking in the warm water and music in your ears. Your lips curved into a smile and a sigh exhaled from your mouth.

While tranquility took over you in the bathtub, Jamie walked into the apartment, back from his long grueling late night show. When he noticed that the apartment was quiet and you were nowhere to be seen, he took off his tank top and threw it on the couch. He felt hot, tired and sweaty. He couldn't take any more second being in that state so he grabbed a towel from his room, slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the bathroom in just his low-rise jeans. He pushed the unlocked door open and stepped in.

His feet was frozen, as if someone just nailed his feet to the floor when he saw your figure in the bathtub. The image of your glistening curves under the water immediately seared into his mind and his eyes widen. He tried to move, speak... but his throat was so dry.

You shifted yourself and suddenly felt a presence in the bathroom. Coming out of your daze, you slowly fluttered your eyes open but immediately shot up as soon as you saw his figure standing in the middle of the bathroom, trying to say something. The sweat on his tattoo-covered body caught the light from the window. The light and shadow contoured his abs, sharp hip bones and his V-line that was so prominent through his low-rise jeans. Before he could speak, you started screaming and the heat rose to your cheeks.

You turned your back towards him to hide yourself and started yelling, "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Sorry- I thought you weren't home!! Why didn't you lock the door!?" Jamie started to explain himself finally. However you took it as him questioning your competence.

"Now it's my fault that I didn't lock the door!?" You yelled back, your hands were still covering yourself which was not truly working with how much you were exposed.

Jamie tried his best to keep his eye contact on your face without trailing to your body, but he was struggling. He was praying that it wasn't obvious to you while his mind wandered to dangerous places.

"I didn't say it was your fault, I just thought no one was here," he explained again, a tinge of frustration in his voice.

"Oh yeah, of course. Not like you've never walked into my space before anyways," you shot back, reaching for the towel finally and quickly wrapped it around yourself. It didn't matter that the towel was then soaking wet while you tried to drain the tub at the same time. You felt embarrassed and vulnerable at the sight of you being so exposed in front of him.

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even in this situation, you still found a way to blame him.

"Gosh, you are impossible," he muttered at you in disbelief.

Your blood pressure shot right up at his remark. You glared at him fiercely. "I'm impossible? You have driven me up the wall the second I stepped foot in this apartment! You wanna talk impossible!? Let's talk about your dirty dishes. Your dirty socks... And- and that stupid guitar you carried around-"

"God, shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He stepped forward and threw his towel on the floor. "I am so sick of you telling me what I can, and can't do at my own place."

He backed you up against the wall, his patience running thin. You had never seen him this angry. His eyes darted towards your chest that was rising and falling nervously. The line of your glistening cleavage made him lose his damn mind. You could feel his breath on you as he stepped closer.

"Okay... Well, I-I was just saying-" your voice shaking, almost pleading.

"I said shut up," his voice stern and low.

You saw his glaring eyes raking your figure down in the soaking wet towel you were holding that was sticking down to all the right curves. Showing him more than what it was meant to hide. You felt your chest hammering at the sight of him locking his gaze on your body. Then his eyes went back up, darkening at your gaze.

"I'm so sick of you... Every single day I have to fight myself not to throttle you..." he whispered in a husky tone, his hand resting on the wall right on the side of your face.

"I'm so sick of staying at home, having to see you walking around in that tight tank top, that skimpy shorts, parading around that sweet curvy flesh right to my face..."

His other hand then gripping your hip tight, pulling you close. You yelped in surprise but he didn't care.

"...and those damn underwears in the dryer. God, you were really testing me weren't you? You wanted me to go crazy, didn't you?"

His other hand then slid onto your back, pulling you flush against his chest. You whimpered, hoping to beg for mercy. He smirked at the sound of you and lowered his face until his lips brushed right against your ear to whisper,

"And when you slept on the couch, all sprawled out like that every single time... God, it's like you wanted me to take you right then and there."

His words shot right to your heating core. Your legs were about to give out but he held you upright, making sure you felt every contour of his body through that thin towel that was separating you and him. His hand rested on your ass, rubbing the perky shape and riding your towel up and up... You could almost feel his fingers brushing against your cheeks.

"Jamie, I'm sorry- Please I won't do it again," you whimpered.

"So now you're begging? After everything you've done, you want me to go easy on you?" Jamie pushed you against the wall. His one arm slid under your towel, right on your inner thigh and the other tangled in your hair. He tugged on your wet hair until your head was tilted enough to expose your neck for him. His lips curved into a smirk. Oh how beautiful you looked at his mercy. He leaned down to press hot wet kisses on your skin.

You sighed, the tantalizing feeling of his suckling and biting gave both a hissing pain and pleasure to you at the same time. Each bite was soothed down with his swirling tongue on the marks that he left.

He started grinding his hips on you, showing his evident desire that was building up. He wanted you to know how hard he was. What you had done to him all along.

"J-jamie..." you moaned.

"God my name sounds so good from your mouth when you're not complaining," he groaned as he rocked himself against you. You arched your hips begging for more stimulation through the towel.

You whimpered in his ear, the sounds driving him crazier. He started shuddering and grunting.

"You know how many times I've hold myself back? The way you stood there just begging to be touched by me?" He let his frustrations out, rolling his hips against you.

Just when you were getting into it, he pulled himself away. You whimpered at the loss of his touch and whined for more. He gripped your wrist and pulled your arm close.

"I came here to shower and that's what I'm gonna do," his eyes darkened further and pulled you towards the shower, "...and you're coming with me."

He yanked your wrist, making you stumble forward but quickly followed him to the shower. You've never seen him this angry but you weren't gonna stop him. Not when you're completely aroused at his demands.

Without a moment to think, he backed you against the shower wall, trapping you against him. His eyes were once again raking on your body. His hands started cupping over your chest right above the towel, his thumbs massaging the top of your cleavage.

"Are you seriously still going to hold onto that soaking wet towel?" His voice teasing and husky. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and you feel the fabric of his jeans on your inner thighs, rubbing so close to your core. He pushed the slit of your towel open with his hand, then slowly rubbed his thigh on your aching core and sensitive bud. Your hands clenched onto his shoulders to hold yourself up while you moaned. Your hips rocking onto the fabric of his jeans for more delicious friction. He smirked at the sight of you flushing and your mouth hanging open.

"That's right, let me hear you. You're turning me on so good with those sounds," his thigh rubbing steadily on your heat. He continued to encourage you, whispering how you were being a good girl for him.

The sound of his voice, the way he rubbed himself on you. You couldn't take it anymore. You needed more. So much more.

"I want you. Now," you said and started undoing his belt.

He grunted at the feel of your hands on his lower hips, undressing him already.

"You're gonna be the death of me," his eyes fluttered shut at the feel of you pulling his jeans down along with his boxers. He kicked it away while his hard cock sprung free for you. You couldn't wait any longer and you went to reach for the feel of him in your hand but he caught your wrist up again.

"I'm not done with you," he demanded and then pulled your towel down revealing your naked body for him. You gasped at the feel of your exposed body, your face flushing at the vulnerability. Your arms instinctively wrapped around you, almost like you were hiding yourself.

He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

"No, don't," he pulled your arms away and held them in his hands, "You're beautiful."

Something shifted on your gaze and softened as you looked up at him. He felt it and smiled at you, taking your arms up and letting you wrap around his shoulders.

He pressed his lips on yours in a searing kiss, and reached for the shower knob to turn it on. His hands slid down to your breasts, feeling your fullness in his hands while the water trickles down your body. The friction in the slippery water drove him crazier by the second. His tongue started tasting your mouth, the sweetness he craved for so long. The lips that he fantasized so many times during your daily fights. That sweet luscious pout mixed with the venom of your words that distracted him many times while you were angry. The many times he wanted to shut that pretty little mouth. The sounds of his low groans mixed with your desperate moans were muffled while your tongues met and tasting each other. He parted his lips away from you and moved down to your chest.

You tilted your head back, the feel of his mouth and the water running on your chest sent shivers down your back. He took a mouthful of your breast, sucking on the hard bud and circling it with his tongue while his hand kneading the other one. He heard the sounds escaping your lips, wanting to hear more and he flicked your nipple faster and faster with his tongue. Your hands tugged on his hair as it jolted the tension right to your lower gut.

He moved his mouth to your other breast and started doing the same thing. The wetness of his tongue sent pleasure through your hardened nipple. His hand then started sliding up your thigh, reaching for your core. He could feel the warm wetness on his fingers, a stark contrast to the cold shower.

He pulled himself back up and started kissing your neck, and whispering to your ear again.

"You're so ready for me aren't you? I can’t believe how wet you are already" He shuddered in your ear and pushing your folds open with his fingers. His touch on your already sensitive core made you shiver. Your hips arched towards his touches begging for more.

"Jamie... Please i want you..." You begged him.

He smiled at your pleading and he slid a finger in, his movement slow and deliberate.

"Oh so warm, darling... I can't wait to be inside you," he teased. He pushed and pulled his finger in and out of you in a steady pace. You could feel the high coming and you reached for your clit, rubbing and circling it, pushing yourself further to the edge. He looked down and smirked at the way you touched yourself. "Mmm, that's it baby... You're doing so good," he encouraged you while he moved his finger within you. He took a moment to take in the sight of you crumbling down under his touch and then slid a second finger in. He could immediately feel you getting close. Your cunt started clenching around his fingers with his motions. This was it. He took the signal and swirl his fingers in a circular motion inside, making your head thrown back. He smirked and knew exactly what was coming. He curled his fingers up and hit the spot, picking up the pace to send you over the edge.

"Jamie, fuck- I'm gonna cum-" you whimpered, shaking against his fingers.

"Y-yeah god yes. Cum for me, baby. I've got you. Let me see you," he whispered huskily in your ear.

With his command, you released with a loud moan and shook against him. He slowly rubbed you out, calming you down from your high.

"You did so good... You looked so hot coming undone in my arms," he whispered to your ear and slowly pulling out his fingers.

You leaned on his chest as he held onto you, supporting yourself up. He could feel your heart rate slowing on him while the water still running down on both of you.

Your hand lowered down to his hips, rubbing them in circles and then finally resting on his bare ass. You felt the tightness of his curve, then pulling him close to your core. He gave a strangled moan when he felt his length hardening and rubbing you.

"I need you... All of you," you sighed in his chest while rubbing yourself against him. His breath started hitching, his moans filling up the small shower space.

"You're killing me," he choked on his words, gripping onto your hips, rocking them with you too.

You moaned in pleasure, pulling him close to you by his ass. His hands holding himself up by the wall.

"Fuck, that feels good..." He shut his eyes at the feeling of you.

"Jamie... Fuck me," you begged him. You reached for his cock, gently stroking it and guiding him to your opening.

A low guttural moan escaped him when he felt your stroking, his hips bucking out to feel more of you.

"Oh- oh god," he moaned. "Say that again. One more time."

"Fuck me, Jamie," you pleaded, whimpering.

His sense of control left his body and slammed you onto the wall. He scooped you up by your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, holding you up against the wall. His gaze darkened, full of lust.

"I can't take it anymore, I'm gonna have my way with you now," he growled. He positioned himself in between your legs and finally, very slowly, pushed all of himself in.

"Oh g-god, you feel so good," he moaned against you. You tilted your head back, your arms holding yourself up by his shoulders.

He lost all sense of control, he pushed further into you. Your walls wrapping around him perfectly.

"Oh... Ohhhh baby. Fuck..." His moans strangled in between his thrusts.

"Oh Jamie, fuck me... fuck me good," you moaned.

"Shit, baby that sounds so good say it again," he thrusted deeper.

"Fuck me real good Jamie ... Yes, yes-" you moaned, over and over again.

"Shit, my name sounds so good like that-" he started pounding you harder and harder against the wall. "I've imagined doing this to you so many times. You breathless like this... Being pounded by my cock like this... Your moans in my ear... Fuck I'm gonna make you come so hard."

"Jamie, don't say stuff like that-" his words almost brought you to your second orgasm. You couldn't hold it back.

"Why? You can't hold it anymore, hmm? You can't handle me talking dirty to you? How I imagined fucking you on the couch? On the kitchen counter? Raw and hard on that damn carpet?"

He pounded on your pussy hard and hitting your spot over and over.

"How I checked you out while you bent down, your ass in all its glory in that shorts... And your nipples showing through your tank tops around the house... God you make me so hard all the time," he added. All his frustrations finally out for you.

"Jamie... I can't take it anymore," you were begging for release.

"You're close, aren't you?" he pounded you against the wall hard. "Cum for me, baby. I want you to scream my name. Just for me."

You moaned hard and started clenching around him. "Jamie! Jamie, fuck-" You reached your orgasm and released hard.

The warmth of your release sent shockwave to Jamie, his eyes rolling back and found his release with you. Both of you held onto each other with ragged breath, shaking through the intense high. He buried his face in your neck while you laid your chin on top of his head. He wanted to still hold you up, relishing the feeling of your closeness through his shaky legs, not pulling out of you yet.

When he finally came down from the euphoric feeling, he slowly lifted his face up to face you. Gazing into your eyes in a new adoring way. One that you haven't seen before.

"You okay?" He asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

Your heart soften at his gentleness and you nodded. He slowly pulled out of you and placed you down carefully. The water still running down on both of you while standing there in each other's arms. He reached for the shower knob and turned it off.

You were shaking both from the orgasm and the cold and he quickly tried to reach for a towel to dry you up. Little did he realize, the aftermath of what you and him had done were all over the place. Both your towel soaking wet on the floor, along with his jeans and boxers. The shampoo bottles scattered on your feet and water splashed everywhere. He chuckled and looked back at you.

"Well, I guess I've made a mess again," he blushed at the condition of the bathroom.

This time, you laughed. There was no more anger within you.

"It's okay," you simply said.

[angelst4re]

this is for my beloved @jamiesdarlin who came up with this idea and it made me feral so i did what had to be done... and rewrote it about 5 times &lt;3

Like a Villain- Jamie Campbell Bower/Henry Creel x Reader

summary: your boyfriend gets a haircut in preparation to play henry again and decides to surprise you when you come home...

warnings: NSFW!!! contains smut!! don't read if this makes you uncomfortable my love!

notes: i intended for this to be a male reader fic but i think it's more gender neutral :)

As you were driving home from work, you remembered Jamie was going to get his haircut today. It had grown out quite a lot since the last time he had it properly cut, and you thought the look really suited him. You liked running your fingers through his long hair, shampooing it when you would take showers and baths together, and just playing with it when the two of you would be watching a movie and he’d rest his head on your lap. You asked him to send you a picture after he had it cut, but he said no, he wanted to surprise you when you got home. 

Shutting the door behind you, you kicked your shoes off and put your car keys by Jamie’s. It seemed a bit quiet, you wondered if your boyfriend was even home. 

“Jamie? I’m home!” You called out before going into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

“How was work, darling?” Jamie asked, and as you turned around to face him you almost choked on your water. 

Jamie leaned against the door frame, his hair had been cut a lot shorter, it had been lightened, and it appeared to have been slightly curled. Only one thing came to mind.

Henry.

And that was when you noticed what he was wearing, the white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the white trousers… It was clear he had done this on purpose, as he knew how you felt about this particular character. 

“...” You were too shocked, perhaps even stunned, to answer his question. You didn’t know where to look, or how to react. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know, darling.” He chuckled, his voice appearing darker, and he began to move closer to you, until he was looking down at you, a playful look in his eye as his hand came up to stroke your cheek. 

“Jamie-”

“Shh,” he hushed you, placing his finger over your lips, “we’re going to go upstairs, love,” he said, his voice now slow and almost gentle, “and Henry is going to fuck you, just like you’ve always wanted. Okay?”

You were silenced, almost frozen in utter shock and undeniable arousal. You eagerly nodded your head, and Jamie smiled, winking at you before taking your hand, leading you to the bedroom. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Once upstairs, Jamie shut the bedroom door behind the both of you before sitting down on the bed, his back against the headboard. He ordered you to undress, and he then patted his lap. 

Once you were left in just your underwear, you joined him on the bed, straddling his hips as his hand came up to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his and crashing his lips into yours. This took you by surprise, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He was being so much rougher with you than usual, and the way his other hand had a hold of your hip made you wonder if he would leave bruises on your skin, the way he bit down on your lip before he slowly pulled away from the kiss had you wondering if it was enough to draw blood… 

“Jamie-” you were cut off as his hand sent a gentle slap to your face, before he took your jaw in his hand and moved your head, so you were looking at him. You couldn’t believe how turned on you were from the way he handled you, which usually would be with care, but you loved to see this rough side of him, and you were willing to see how far he would take it.

“Sweetheart…” He sighed, shaking his head as his eyes lit up with a devilish spark, “Jamie treats you so well, doesn’t he? He’s gentle, he can be slow and passionate when he fucks you, but you seem to be forgetting something…” His breathing began to get heavier as he spoke to you, it’s quite clear that he’s been waiting to do this for a while, and that he seems to be enjoying it more than he would care to admit, “Jamie’s not going to fuck you, baby. Henry will.” 

You could feel the throbbing in your most private areas becoming harder and harder to ignore, and you were sure- given the position you were in- that he could feel it too. 

“Say my name.” He demanded, a smirk creeping up on his face at how flustered you had become, watching as your cheeks redden at his words. When you didn’t answer him, he removed his hand from your hip, and it came down on your ass with a slap.

“Henry…” You said, it came out as almost a whimper, trying to avoid eye contact with the man that was making you feel this way. 

“Say it again, love.” He teased, his hand now massaging the flesh of your ass, loving the effect he had on you. 

“Henry.” You said, more confident this time as your eyes met his, seconds before his lips were back on yours again, and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, involuntarily grinding down against his hardening cock through his white trousers. 

He bucked his hips up, sending shockwaves through your body, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands came down to where your bodies met and your fingers fumbled around with his belt, but you quickly became frustrated, frowning against his lips as you struggled with it. 

He was seemingly as needy as you at this moment as his hands quickly swatted yours away and he took his belt off, placing it beside him on the bed…

He wrapped an arm around you, flipping the both of you over so you were now beneath him, looking up at him with lust filled eyes, and your lips slightly parted as you caught your breath. He unbuttoned his trousers, but never fully undressed. Your hand reached down to wrap your fingers around his cock, needing to touch him there- but he took your wrists in one hand, his belt in the other, and he tied you up, wrapping the belt around the headboard to keep your arms in place, acting like handcuffs. 

He then slid his hands down your body, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them ever so slowly down your legs before throwing them to the side. The velvety head of his cock was pressing into your thigh as he angled his head slightly and let a drop of spit land onto your area. He used it as lubrication as he pressed the tip of his thumb into your hole, grinning as he watched the sudden change of expression on your face. 

He eased you open, preparing you to take his cock. You bit down on your lip as he switched from his thumb to two fingers, easing in and out of you, pleasure running through your body with each curl of his fingers as they pumped into you.

“Eyes on me.” He reminded you after your let your eyes fall shut. You angled your head to look at him, and he had the most devilish look upon his face, everything about Jamie was gone, from the way he held you to the way he spoke, his whole demeanour switched, and you were loving every moment of it.

He took his cock into his hand, and you gasped as you felt the tip nudge against your hole. Your hips bucked up, and he placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep you in place as he teased you, pushing the very tip of his cock into you before withdrawing it again. You continued to squirm beneath him, arching your back as you tried to move your hips, needing him to fuck you and stop teasing.

“Please, I need you.” You whined, screwing your eyes shut, “Henry, please!”

You didn’t even notice he had untied your arms until you’re flipped over again. He ties your hands behind your back using his belt again and wraps his hands around your hips to pull your ass into the air whilst pushing your face down into the pillows.

“Not a sound, pet.” He tells you, “or I won’t let you finish. You don’t want that, do you?”

You shook your head.

“That’s what I thought.”

He holds onto your hip with one hand as the other positions his cock at your entrance, and he begins to slowly fill you up. You bite down on your lip as you feel your walls being stretched around his length, and he brushed against every spot inside you that made you want to scream his name.

Once he was settled inside you, you felt his hand stroke your back, before he began to slowly move his hips, sliding inches out of you to pound back into you. You gasped as his hand moved again, between your bodies, and you wanted to scream out. But you fought against the urge, burying your face further into the pillow.

The impact from his thrusts, the feeling of his pubic bone hitting your ass, only pushed you further into the pillows. When he noticed, he snaked an arm around your upper body, pulling your back to his chest, all whilst continuing to fuck you mercilessly.

His hand crept to your throat, his fingers wrapping around as he kissed the side of your neck, his freshly bleached hair tickling your delicate skin.

“You feel so good, darling. You’re doing such a good job. I can feel you getting close, just hold on a bit longer, okay?” He whispered, although it was more of a pant. His breath was warm as he spoke, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, and the raspiness went straight to your core. “Just a bit longer.” He reminded you.

You tried to hold back the feeling that was slowly approaching. But as you felt his cock hit deeper and deeper inside you as his pace quickened, you worried you couldn’t hold out for him. However, your knees buckled when you felt him twitch inside you, you knew he was close too.

“Who’s fucking you like this, huh? Who’s making you feel this good? Say it, honey. Use your words.”

“Y-you, Henry.” You stutter, your half-lidded eyes making contact with his, “just you.”

“That’s right, baby,” he tells you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, placing a kiss there as he twitches inside you again, “you want it inside you, pet?”

You nod your head, a ‘please’ falling from your lips, although he could’ve mistaken it for a moan. However, with one last thrust of his hips, you felt yourself coming closer and closer, until it hit you all at once. The warmth of his seed made your belly tingle as you lost control of your limbs, falling back onto his chest. He held you up as he gave sharp strokes inside you, and you contracted around him, milking his cock of all it had.

"Fuck-" He said with a groan as he stilled inside you, feeling his heartbeat against your back as it began to beat in time with yours as you began to catch your breath.

He placed a final kiss to your neck before he released your wrists from the makeshift tie, placing a kiss on each of your wrists as he laid you down on the bed. As you laid down, he noticed his cum was already beginning to drip down your thighs. He parted your thighs again and leaned down, collecting it with his finger and pushing it back inside, causing you to hiss from the overstimulation. He patted your thigh as he spoke,

“Let’s keep it all where it belongs, darling.”

You could only wish this is how he would continue to fuck you as he prepared to play his character again.

[jokeringcutio]

Halloween Refuge – Henry Creel x Reader (Contains Smut)

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: Henry Creel (001) x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: It’s Halloween when a young, wounded man appears at your door. How can you refuse him.. anything?

Warnings: Explicit Sexual content, mention of blood, orderly Henry Creel.

Halloween Refuge

The flickering glow of the television bathed the dimly lit room, casting eerie shadows on the walls as you snuggled under your favorite soft blanket. The scent of cinnamon and pumpkin filled the air, a warm contrast to the chilly Halloween night. You sipped your hot cocoa, letting it warm you from the inside out while classic horror films played in the background.

"Trick or treat!" you heard from outside your door, and you paused the movie, setting down your drink before grabbing a handful of candy. Opening the door with a smile, you greeted the group of costumed children who shrieked with delight at the sight of the sweets being dropped into their bags. Their giggles echoed through the crisp autumn air as they scurried away, leaving you to retreat back into your cozy sanctuary.

You had just settled back onto the couch when the doorbell rang again. A small sigh escaped your lips – another interruption. But it's Halloween, you reminded yourself. With a quick stretch, you stood and headed for the door. As it swung open, you were met by an unexpected sight. A tall young man stood in front of you, his clothes a bright white in the light of the candles and lanterns. Blonde hair glistened like gold in that very same light, and pale blue eyes settled pleadingly upon you. He looked lost and vulnerable.

"Can I help you?" you asked cautiously, eyes drawn to the splatters of blood staining the once pristine fabric. For a moment, you thought it was just an elaborate Halloween costume, but something in his pale blue eyes told you otherwise.

"Please," he breathed out, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I need shelter."

Shelter from what, you wondered. Who was he running away from?

Pity welled up inside you, and despite the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right, you stepped aside, allowing him into your home. He looked so helpless, so broken; you couldn't just turn him away.

"Thank you," he murmured, stepping inside and glancing around the room with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Are you hurt?" you asked, your concern growing as you studied his bloodied attire. "Do you need me to call someone?"

"No," he replied quickly, a hint of panic in his voice. "I just... I need to rest."

"All right," you agreed, though still uneasy. The blood on his clothes indicated that something serious had happened, possibly something bad. But you also knew that not everyone who got into a fight wanted to have the police involved.

You led him to the couch, gesturing for him to sit down. As he did so, you couldn't help but take in his features: high cheekbones, luscious blonde hair that fell past his ears, and those captivating pale blue eyes that seemed to hold an untold story.

"Is there anything I can get you?" you inquired, watching him carefully.

"Water would be nice," he answered, attempting a weak smile.

"Of course," you said, heading to the kitchen. As you filled a glass with water, your mind raced with questions and concerns. Who was this man, and what had led him to your doorstep?

Did it matter? You returned to his side to find him sitting in the same position you had left him in. His eyes rested calmly upon you and a small grateful smile curled the corner of his lips. He seemed harmless. Despite being taller than you and quite possibly being capable of overpowering you, even when wounded, you didn’t think he would try and harm you. There was just a very kind vibe about him, something that made you feel you could trust him and want to be near him.

And so you sat down on the couch next to him, leaving a safe distance between you two, and watched him sip the water, your heart pounding in your chest. His left ear seemed to be bleeding and there definitely was a gash on his head. A million questions swam through your head, but you hesitated to ask any of them.

"Are you sure I shouldn't call 911?" you asked gently. "I don't want you to be in pain."

He shook his head, his pale blue eyes locking onto yours. "No, please don't. I just need some rest."

"All right," you murmured, not entirely convinced. "What's your name?"

"Henry," he replied, that weak smile returning to his lips.

“Henry,” you repeated his name, tasting it on your lips. A weird fuzzy feeling bubbled up inside the pit of your stomach, making your core feel hot and cold at the same time. “Well, Henry, it seems I’ll be letting you rest here for a little while. Is there anything I can get you before I let you rest?”

Henry’s blue eyes seemed to darken as he weakly reached out a hand to you. “Actually,” he murmured, “there is.”

Over the next hour, you made him as comfortable as possible, bringing him a warm blanket and some painkillers. Instead of retreating to your room, Henry engaged in a pleasant and gentle conversation with you, allowing you the time to stand up and hand candy to the kids whenever the doorbell rang. And each time you returned to his side he’d be waiting for you, a gentle smile on his lips.

The conversation flowed surprisingly easily between you, touching on everything from favorite films to childhood memories. You couldn't help but become entranced by the mysterious man who had appeared on your doorstep.

As the evening wore on, the air between you grew thick with unspoken desire. Henry, despite his injuries, managed to sit up and reach out to gently caress your cheek. Your breath hitched, your body responding to his touch. His fingers felt like warm silk against your skin, igniting a fire within you.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered, his voice soft as velvet.

"Yes," you breathed, leaning in to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was tender, yet hungry, fueling the growing need inside you.

You felt his hands on your sweater, slowly lifting it off your body. You allowed him to undress you, feeling a thrill at being so exposed to someone you barely knew. But there was something about Henry that drew you in, a magnetic pull you couldn't resist.

As his own clothes joined yours on the floor, you marveled at the intimacy that had blossomed between you in such a short time. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by fate and undeniable attraction.

Your body, now bare before him, seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. Henry's pale blue eyes raked over you, admiration and desire clear in their depths. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

"Careful," you whispered, pushing him back gently onto the couch, mindful of his injuries. "You need to rest."

He didn't protest as you straddled his lap, settling yourself against the heat of his body. You leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his jawline, down his neck, savoring the taste of his skin beneath your lips. The moment was tender, romantic, filled with a connection that transcended the physical. You didn’t know attraction could be so strong, so magnetic. But all you knew was that you craved him, needed this, wanted this to happen.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice laced with vulnerability.

"Absolutely," you replied, your conviction evident. To show how determined you were, you slowly moved your hips over his, gently taking the tip of him in your tight heat. Henry’s eyes rolled back and a moan escaped his lips. With a moan of your own, you started to roll your hips against his, taking him in deeper and creating a slow, steady rhythm.

He liked it, you could tell, because when your eyes met you saw the spark of joy in his. Encouraged by the lust in his eyes, you became a little bolder, moving your hips a little higher, thrust down a little harder.

Your lips sought out his and captured them once more. He welcomed the kiss, even deepened it, while his hands reverently traced down your body, exploring each piece of unclad skin. His fingertips traced patterns with featherlight touches and at that moment you knew how it felt to be worshipped.

Once the kiss broke in favor of catching your breath, Henry’s head dipped and his lips sought lower down your chest until they brushed lightly past your nipples. With a gasp  - from your lips – he sucked one of them between his lips, hollowing his cheeks as he started to pleasure you. Your thrusts became erratic as your walls pulsed around him with each suck. What was he doing to you? This was absolute bliss. Throwing your head back, you rode him as deep and as passionate as your body allowed you.

It was perfect. All of him was perfect. Until-

Henry’s hands gripped your hips, guiding you down his shaft with a rough thrust that made you open your eyes in shock. You’d lost control. He took the lead now. You knew it the moment he started to guide you harshly up and down his cock, sinful wet sounds accompanying the action. His initial thrusts were harsh, almost painful, but you bit back any complaints. This was what you wanted. He must be close, you reasoned. And so your lips parted in a silent gasp.

His fingers dug into your hips in an almost painful grip, certain to leave marks. You tried to move your hips away and alleviate the pain, but Henry wouldn’t let you. And when you glanced down at him to tell him to be gentler, you saw the way his eyes had rolled back in pleasure and how he had gritted his teeth.

You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t want anything else but to see him like this. Lost in absolute pleasure.

He struck too deep for comfort, his cockhead battering your cervix with a passion that was unparalleled to anything you’d ever felt before in your entire life. Low groans tumbled from his lips as he forced your hips to move and take him in deep and deeper, until the battering made you gasp in a mixture of pleasure and pain, and he hit a delicious spot deep inside that made your toes curl and your eyes close in ecstasy.

Liquid gushed forth, slipping down his cock and slickening your core, allowing sopping wet sounds to reach your ears with each and every thrust. His grip had become possessive, almost aggressive, as if he sought to claim you entirely. He hit that spot inside of you again and again. It made you gasp, your orgasm building like a tidal wave.

"Please...," you managed to choke out between moans, unable to articulate more than that single word. Your hands clawed at him and pulled him closer. More, your mind repeated. More, more, more.

So close, so very close.

Henry didn't relent, didn't pause to ask if you were okay. Instead, he continued to pump into you, even as your walls clamped down tightly, even as his thrusts became erratic, even as you felt your orgasm wash over you. And then it was done.

He came, filling you with his essence while his hands held you firmly in place, keeping you from squirming away. A part of you screamed in protest, wanting to push him away, to reclaim your autonomy. But another part of you – perhaps the darker, more primal side – reveled in the intensity, the rawness of it all. And so you swallowed your complaints, allowed yourself to be overwhelmed by the pleasure and the pain.

Henry moved again, deep but slow thrusts, his cockhead pushing against your womb’s entrance as if he wanted to get in. It felt good. Even as both of you seemed to come down from your bliss, it felt good to have him rocking gently into you, so deep that it felt as if your bodies could melt and become one.

Finally, as your body relaxed again, leaving you breathless and shaking, Henry's body stilled. He held you close, his breath hot against your neck, his heart pounding in time with yours.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice gentle once more, concern lacing his words.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Yes," you whispered, though you couldn't quite shake the lingering doubts that clung to the edges of your mind. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assured him, slowly sitting up and flashing a careful smile.

Henry’s concerned eyes met yours, but upon seeing your smile, he mirrored it with one of his own. He hugged you against him and placed a kiss on the top of your head, all the gentleman once more. You blinked at his tenderness, at his need for comfort and touch. Had he truly been so rough with you only moments before? Had that side of him been real, or had it just been your imagination?

He slipped out of you and a wet, sticky glob ran down your legs. He paid no attention to it, so neither did you. Instead, you decided to keep your eyes focused on him, to see him smile his gentle smile.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing a tender path along your arm.

"Y-yeah," you replied hesitantly, still trying to reconcile the two very different sides of him.

With lingering touches and soft smiles, you both began to get dressed. It was weird how natural it felt to touch Henry, or to have his hands on you. Small talk flowed between the two of you and your laughter filled the room as you shared stories and jokes, trying to reclaim the sweet intimacy you had felt before.

"Stay here tonight?" you offered when your clothes were back on, gesturing towards the couch. "It's late, and I don't want you wandering around injured."

"Thank you," he said, the warmth in his voice melting your heart. "I would appreciate that."

"Let me make you some dinner too," you added, not wanting him to go hungry after everything he'd been through.

As you turned to head towards the kitchen, you caught Henry's gaze lingering on your stomach, an ominous look in his eyes. It was as if he knew you were worried about the consequences of your heated encounter. Shaking away those thoughts, you busied yourself with preparing a meal for the both of you. The evening turned into night, and you and Henry stayed close to each other until he sent you to sleep.

The next morning, you awoke in your own bed, your body feeling the aftermath of the previous night's activities. Stretching, you made your way to the living room. You frowned as you glanced at the empty couch.

Henry was gone.

You looked around the house, not quite believing the young man would have just left without a word like that, but no matter where you looked or how many times you called his name, he was gone.

What else had you expected, you berated yourself silently as you sat down on the couch. The seating was cold. Henry must have been gone a long while now.

With your head in your hands, you sat and contemplated what to do next. Forget him? Forget the entire encounter?

As if to distract you, you switched on the television. A sudden chill ran down your spine as the news popped on.

"Serial killer on the loose, last seen in the area..."

"...escaped from Hawkins lab where he was being held."

The reporter's words sent shockwaves through you. The description of the missing male matched Henry perfectly, right down to the bloodstained white suit.

Blood that wasn’t his own.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the haunting realization settling in. You had unknowingly invited a dangerous man into your home, and now he was out there, somewhere. And you couldn't help but feel an unsettling connection to him that refused to fade away.

~ Fin ~

AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

[oskea93]

Tis the Way the Wind Blows, Hummingbird (Two)

Caleb Sykes x OC Horizon universe

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ Story will contain moments of physical, sexual, emotional, and verbal abuse, cursing, murder, suicidal ideations, childbirth, scalping, death, etc. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. If you've seen the film or just read about it online, you already know that Caleb is a bad guy. He will remain a bad guy throughout this story as well. He will not be liked and will be vile in every way. Just a heads up if you were looking for a happy Jamie story.

● If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ●

Taglist: @austinswhitewolf, @carriewritesblog, @isla-bell-blog, @jcbbby, @eve18ahs @ladysybilchronicles @yelchinweasleylothbrok

 The cold dirt scattered across the pine box like spiders in the lantern light, each clump landing with a muted thud that echoed in the silence of the night. My tears, once a torrential stream, had ceased, my eyes too sore and bloodshot to allow any more water to flow. The absence of a preacher was a deliberate choice, his family insisting that no good bible pusher was needed or wanted here. The death of my son—a young child, taken too soon—was not enough to warrant the blessing of God upon his delicate, lifeless form.

As I stood there, surrounded by the whispering pines, I felt the weight of the world pressing down on me. The air was thick with the scent of earth and pine, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Memories flooded my mind—his laughter, his innocent questions, his small hand in mine—and each one was a sharp stab to my heart.

The sky above was a deep, endless black, dotted with stars that seemed indifferent to the sorrow below. I longed for some sign, some indication that his spirit was at peace, but the heavens remained silent. In that moment, I realized that mourning is a solitary journey, one that each person must navigate in their own way.

The family gathered around, a mix of stoic faces and quiet sobs, sharing in the collective grief.  The young man who brought us together at this moment stood still, his head bowed, eyes fixed on the frozen ground. A storm of emotions raged within me—grief, anger, and a consuming desire for justice. I imagined reaching out to him, making him feel the unbearable sorrow that now defined my existence. It was a dark thought, one born from the depths of my despair. I wanted him to feel what my child felt – the pain from repeated blows to his soft skin. The pain as his head hit against the rocks below. The pressures of this forsaken family finally lifting as Jesus called him home – A son for a son – The mourning weight sitting heavy on Junior and Hannah’s hearts as their son’s body is lowered into the ground, a cross made of sticks marking his existence.

Caleb couldn’t bear to witness the burial of his only son—not that he had much to do with Rory in the first place. The weight of his absence felt heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the grief that enveloped me. After Rory’s last breath slipped from his lungs, Caleb stormed out of his mother’s cabin, rage and despair spilling forth in a torrent of curse words that blasted into the wind. He rode off into the hills, a silhouette against the fading light, leaving behind a family shattered by loss.

Four days had passed, and still, there was no sign of my husband. Each moment stretched into eternity, filled with an anxiety that gnawed at my insides. I worried that Caleb’s volatile nature would lead him down a path from which there would be no return. It was all too possible that he would end up in a pine box next—his mouth and actions often getting the better of him, dragging him into gun and knife fights with locals and passersby. He had a knack for igniting conflict, and his own brother and father sometimes harbored grudges against him, their tempers flaring in the shadow of family loyalty.

The day of the incident remained fresh in my mind, a haunting recollection that replayed like a broken record. Caleb’s gruff voice echoed in my ears as he brushed off the actions of Robert and Junior, dismissing their cruelty with a careless wave.

“It’s Rory’s initiation to becoming a strong Sykes man,” he had said, his tone laced with an arrogance that made my blood boil.

At that moment, I wanted to shake him, to make him see the truth that he was blind to—the truth that our boy had been just that: a boy, caught in a twisted legacy that had no room for innocence.

Poor Rory couldn’t last seven years in this family, never standing a chance to become the strong leader Mama Sykes dreamed of him becoming. The weight of those expectations had been unbearable, and instead of nurturing the boy’s spirit, they had crushed it under the relentless demands of a lineage built on brutality and power. I had watched as Caleb turned a blind eye to the very real pain our son endured, unable to recognize the damage being done in the name of tradition.

The men that had dedicated themselves to the Sykes family kept their eyes from meeting my own as Rory’s casket became harder to see, soon swallowed by the earth in a final, unforgiving embrace. Each shovelful of dirt felt like a weight pressing down on my chest, a tangible representation of the grief that threatened to consume me whole. I wanted to believe in my heart that they knew this was wrong—that they felt the injustice of a child’s life being extinguished in such a brutal and senseless manner. I searched their faces for a flicker of empathy, a sign that beneath the hardened exteriors, they grappled with the weight of this tragedy. But their expressions were stoic, their eyes averted, as if looking at me would somehow bind them to the pain I felt. I wanted to believe that just one of them was a civil man, someone simply caught in the web of the Sykes family, working for a paycheck, hoping to earn enough to get the hell out of this cursed town. But that was a hard thing to do once you were tied to a family such as the Sykes—a family steeped in violence and enmity, where loyalty was often forged in blood.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The preacher spoke softly as he passed by, his words barely registering in my mind. I stayed silent, my eyes never leaving the final resting place of my little boy, Rory. The world felt distant and muted, as if all sound had been swallowed by the earth that now held him.

A part of me was consumed by grief, but another part was gripped by fear for mine and Emily’s safety—my daughter’s safety above all. Now that Rory was gone, Emily was the last of Caleb’s children. Her existence was a delicate thread in the tapestry of our family, one that didn’t align with Mama Sykes's ambitions.

Female offspring were looked at like crumbs under your shoes – only good for two things – housework and being a mother. Emily didn’t have anything to offer the Sykes family in their eyes – Old man Sykes even questioned if Caleb was her father since the men in the family only produced male heirs. He didn’t take into account that Jr had a daughter a year or two before Emily was born.

“It’s getting late.”

Jr’s gruff voice quaked my nerves as he towered over my side. I could feel the weight of his presence, a shadow that loomed larger than life, making me shuffle slightly to the left, putting space between our frames. With every inch I moved, I felt my heart race, an instinctive reaction to the danger that seemed to seep from him like poison.

“Snow’ll be startin’ up soon again.” His tone was as cold as the air around us, a reminder of the harsh reality we faced. The winter chill clawed at my skin, a physical manifestation of the dread that filled my chest. I glanced toward the horizon, where dark clouds gathered ominously, threatening to blanket the world in white once again.

“I’d rather stay here where my son is than go with any of you monsters.” My voice was hoarse with pain, each word heavy with the grief that had settled into my bones. I could feel the ground beneath me, solid and unyielding, offering a strange comfort amidst the turmoil. Rory was here, in this sacred place, and I refused to abandon him, even if it meant facing the wrath of those I feared.

With my eyes darting in Jr’s direction, I continued, “I would do such a thing if I didn’t have Emily—” My heart twisted at the thought of my daughter, vulnerable and innocent, caught in the crossfire of a family steeped in violence. “Don’t trust her with the likes of you.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but they were laced with a protective instinct that burned fiercely within me.

Jr’s expression darkened, and I could see the anger flicker in his eyes, a storm brewing beneath the surface. “You think you can keep her safe just by standing here?” he shot back, his voice low and menacing. “You’re only prolonging the inevitable. The world out there is cruel, and it won’t wait for you to grieve.”

I squared my shoulders, defiance igniting within me. “And neither will I,” I replied, feeling the strength of my resolve grow. “I won’t let you take her away from me, not after everything Rory suffered. I refuse to let this family destroy another child.”

Jr took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re making a mistake by digging your heels in like this. You don’t understand the danger you’re in. We’re not the ones you should be afraid of,” he sneered, his words dripping with a venom that made my skin crawl.

But I held my ground, staring him down, the fear in my heart transforming into a fierce determination. “I know exactly what I’m afraid of, Jr. It’s men like you who’ve bred this violence, who’ve silenced the innocent. I will protect Emily, even if it costs me everything.”

He let out a snide chuckle, a sound that grated against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “You think it’s me that’s the danger? Have you met your deranged husband? Caleb is the one you need to be worried about. We’re just here in case he can’t get things in order—which somethin’ tells me that’s what’s happenin’ with you.”

A surge of anger flared within me, but I took a breath to steady myself. I shook my head slightly, trying to maintain my composure despite the rising tide of emotions. “Caleb is only the man he is today because of you, Mama Sykes, and that waste of breath man you call your father. You are the ones that created the monster that Caleb has become.”

The air between us crackled with tension, each word hanging heavy in the cold, wintry atmosphere. Jr's sneer faded slightly, replaced by an expression that bordered on disbelief. It was as if I had struck a nerve, laying bare the truth he preferred to ignore.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Jr shot back, his voice low and dangerous. “You think you can lay the blame at our feet and wash your hands clean? You’re just as much a part of this as he is. You let him become what he is.”

I felt a fire ignite within me, fueled by the injustice of his words. “I didn’t create this! I fought against it every day. I tried to show Caleb that there was another way, one that didn’t involve violence and brutality. But every time I reached out, he pushed me away, pulled deeper into the muck of your family’s legacy.”

Jr crossed his arms, a smug expression creeping back onto his face. “And you think you can save him? You think you can change what’s been etched in his bones? He’s Sykes through and through, just like you’re trying to keep Emily from being one of us. You’re fighting a losing battle.”

I felt my heart pound in my chest, each beat echoing my resolve. “If I have to fight, then I will. I won’t let this family consume my daughter the way it did Rory. She deserves better than the twisted heritage you offer.”

His laughter was harsh, filled with a mix of mockery and disdain. “You’re delusional if you think you can protect her from what she is. This family runs deep, and blood tells a story that can’t be rewritten. You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

The snow started to fall around us, thickening the air with its chill. I could feel the weight of his words sinking in, but I refused to let despair take hold. “Maybe so,” I replied, my voice steady. “But I’ll fight tooth and nail to give her a chance to write her own story. To break free from the chains that bind us to this legacy of pain.”

Jr stepped closer, his presence suffocating, but I held my ground. “You think you can change the narrative? You think you can just walk away from this? This is who we are. It’s in our blood, and it’s in yours now too.”

“Not for much longer,” I shot back, feeling the heat of my determination rise. “I refuse to let this cycle continue. If I can’t save Caleb, then I’ll make sure Emily knows she can choose a different path—one away from all of this.”

For a moment, the air was still, the weight of our words hanging between us like a heavy fog. I could see the flicker of uncertainty in Jr’s eyes, a crack in his armor that gave me a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he realized that the path he was on led only to destruction.

But that flicker was quickly extinguished as he sneered once more. “Good luck with that. You’ll need it. Just remember, I’m not the real threat here.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the swirling snow, my heart racing with a mix of fear and defiance. I knew the battle ahead would be arduous, but I was prepared to face whatever came my way. For Emily, for Rory, and for the chance to break free from the chains that had bound us for far too long…

We sat in silence at the long dinner table located in the main Sykes home. The atmosphere was thick with tension, punctuated by the occasional clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversations. Most of the chatter flowed between Jr and James, their voices rising and falling like a tide, while I kept my eyes trained on the plate in front of me. I stole glances at Emily frequently, making sure she was okay amidst the oppressive air that hung over us.

“Somethin’ the matter with my cookin’?”

Mama’s gruff voice cut through the haze, slicing into my thoughts like a knife. I looked up, locking eyes with her, the weight of her gaze heavy and scrutinizing.

“Pardon?” I replied, feigning ignorance, though my heart sank at the confrontation.

“You heard me, girl. You’re the only one not eatin’—afraid I did somethin’ to it?” Her tone was accusatory, a challenge wrapped in a veneer of casualness.

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, the implications of her words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. “No, Mama,” I said carefully, choosing my words with the precision of a tightrope walker. “I’m just... not very hungry right now.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of skepticism dancing behind them. “Not hungry? Or just tryin’ to make a point?”

The fork in my hand dropped into the plate, the loud clatter causing everyone to stop and stare between us. “I just buried my son today – sorry that I’m not clawin at the plate to eat your home cookin.”

Her eyes glowed with rage. “You watch your damn tone, Elizabeth.” The air crackled with tension as Hannah's words sliced through the room, leaving a palpable silence in their wake.

“This is not the time or place for your foolery, Elizabeth,” James interjected, his voice trying to bridge the widening chasm between the two women. “You actin’ like today hasn’t been hard for all of us. Hannah should be the one actin’ out like this; she raised that boy from the time he was an infant.” His eyes darted nervously between them, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalated further.

Hannah’s gaze bore into mine, a fierce intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You think you understand, don’t you? You have no idea what it’s like to lose a child,” she spat, her voice trembling with both grief and anger. “You act as if you’re the victim here, but you’re the one who’s torn this family apart.”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to take care of your son when he’s pulled from your fingers, screaming and crying, and brainwashed to think that this woman—” I extended my finger in her direction, my voice shaking with emotion, “is your real mother and that I, the one who carried and birthed him, was nothing but a milk wench.” The weight of my words hung heavy in the air, but I felt a surge of defiance rising within me.

“You could never provide him the guidance he needed to be a true Sykes man,” Hannah shot back, her tone dripping with venom. Her words hit their mark, sharp and deliberate, each one designed to wound. “Look how you are with that youngin’ there—” She gestured toward Emily, who sat quietly in her crib, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “Not even a year old, and you’re makin’ her ashamed of this family. Caleb should’ve left your ass in that whorehouse he found you in all those years ago. Be better off for this family—maybe then, Rory would still be alive—not havin’ you for a mama.”

The air in the room seemed to disappear. My chest tightened, the edges of my vision blurring as the name—Rory—slammed into me like a freight train. She had no right. No damn right. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the muffled gasps and murmurs of the room. I was barely aware of my body moving until it happened.

My fist collided with her cheek, a sickening crack reverberating through the air as Hannah stumbled backward, her mouth agape in shock. Her skirt flew up as she hit the ground hard, knocking over a chair in her descent. Gasps erupted from the children huddled in the corner, their screams mingling with the angry shouts of the men around the table.

“You bitch!” I snarled, lunging toward her again, years of pent-up anger and humiliation surging to the surface like a dam finally breaking. The words she’d said, the cruelty of them, wouldn’t stop ringing in my head. Rory. Emily. That whorehouse. I was a storm, fists flying, nails clawing. I barely felt the sting of her hand catching my jaw in a wild swing as I pinned her down.

“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” Hannah shrieked, struggling beneath me as I landed another strike, my knuckles scraping against her cheekbone. The room was chaos now—women yelling, children crying, men shouting in sharp, commanding tones I couldn’t hear over the roar in my head.

The sound of a shotgun going off ripped through the room like a thunderclap, freezing us all in place. My breath hitched in my throat as strong arms yanked me backward, the grip bruising and unrelenting. My body twisted, thrashing against the hold, but whoever had me wasn’t letting go.

“What in the hell is going on here!” Caleb’s voice thundered through the room, cutting through the chaos like a razor. His wild eyes scanned the scene, the tension in his jaw visible even beneath the glow of the dim light. He looked from me, to Hannah, to the overturned chair and the scattered plates on the table.

Mama Sykes pushed past her son with a speed that belied her age, her face twisted with fury. She knelt beside Hannah, who was cradling her face, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Your crazy wife went all to hell all over Hannah for no Goddamn reason!” Mama Sykes spat, her voice trembling with rage as she looked up at Caleb. “She’s unhinged, Caleb. I told you this. I told you she wasn’t fit for this family. Not before, and sure as hell not now.”

I wiped at the blood dripping from my split lip, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My hands were shaking, my knuckles raw and stinging. I could feel every eye in the room on me, the weight of their judgment pressing down like a vice. But all I could see was Caleb.

Hannah whimpered as Junior stepped forward, his face dark with fury. He paused briefly to glance at his wife before turning his full attention to Caleb. “You better get a handle on your wife, brother,” Junior growled, his voice low and dangerous. “’Cause if you don’t, there’s gonna be a problem.”

The room fell deathly silent. The unspoken threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Caleb’s jaw worked as he looked from me to Junior, then back again. His hands flexed at his sides, his knuckles turning white as if he was trying to hold onto whatever control he had left.

“I ain’t gonna say it again, Caleb,” Junior said, taking another step forward. “Handle. Her.”

"Get the baby, Elizabeth." Caleb's voice was low as his eyes stayed connected with Junior's. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

I stood there for a moment, looking between the brothers. Junior's face was flushed red with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. Caleb, on the other hand, seemed eerily calm, but I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. The air crackled with unspoken threats and years of pent-up resentment.

Mama Sykes stood in the corner, her weathered hands wringing her apron, eyes darting nervously between her sons.

Snapping out of my daze, I pushed past Mama Sykes, my heart pounding in my chest. Emily was in her makeshift bassinet, oblivious to the tension surrounding her. I gathered her in my arms, feeling her warmth against my chest as I all but ran out the wooden door.

The cool night air hit my face as I stepped onto the porch, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. I could hear the commotion of the bull-headed brothers scuffling as I closed the shack door behind me. The sound of breaking glass and muffled shouts filtered through the thin walls.

Cradling Emily close, I hurried down the rickety steps and across the yard to the small shack we called home.

I set Emily down in the crib, tucking a worn quilt around her for warmth. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her tiny fists curled up near her face. I envied her peaceful slumber, wishing I could be as blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding.

Sinking down onto the old rocking chair beside the crib, I let out a shaky breath. The shouting from the house had grown louder, punctuated by the sound of something heavy falling or being thrown. I closed my eyes, trying to block it out, wondering how many more times we'd have to endure this cycle of violence and reconciliation.

A minute and some change had passed before Caleb stalked over the threshold. His blonde hair tangled under his hat, blood noticeably dripping from his lip. The dim light of the entryway cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark, stormy look in his eyes.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart racing as I took in his disheveled appearance. His clothes were rumpled, and there was a tear in the sleeve of his hide jacket.

"Are you okay?" I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I took a tentative step forward, unsure whether to offer comfort or maintain my distance. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Caleb's gaze snapped to mine, his blue eyes clouded with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite decipher. Anger? Pain? Fear? He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, his jaw clenching tightly. A drop of blood fell from his chin, landing on the worn wooden floor with a soft pat.

He was silent as he walked through the small home - the tension in the air grew thicker with each step he took, his boots leaving muddy prints on the worn floorboards. The warm glow of the fireplace did little to soften the hard lines of his face or the dangerous energy radiating from him.

"Caleb?" I called out, my voice a mix of concern and growing apprehension. Something was very wrong, and the pit in my stomach deepened with each passing second.

Suddenly, there was a blur of movement. The flash of his ringed hand caught the firelight as his backhand collided with my flushed cheek. I'll continue the scene with your added details:

I could feel the skin sliced open from where his ring had dragged across my skin. The sharp, stinging pain bloomed across my cheek, and I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Stunned, I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively reaching up to touch the wound.

"You just never know when to shut your damn mouth!" Caleb roared, his voice a thunderous mix of rage and frustration. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now burned with an intensity that frightened me to my core.

"I'm not the one who started it!" My courage stepping forward despite the throbbing pain in my cheek. "Your mother and Hannah started all of this – everything that happened with Rory is thei-"

"I'm sick and fucking tired of hearing about Rory!" Caleb's voice raised to a roar, cutting me off mid-sentence. His face contorted with a mix of rage and pain. "Rory is dead and there's nothing you or I can do about it! He's better off buried in that ground than being up here and having to deal with the shit of being a Sykes man."

His words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. How could he speak so callously about his own child? The grief and anger that had been simmering inside me for so long suddenly boiled over.

My body shook with anger, my voice rising to match his. "How can you say that about your son? You're flesh and blood that you didn't even bother to see on his last day on this god forsaken rock!"

The air between us crackled with tension. Caleb's words about Rory being "better off" dead hung heavy in the room, a testament to the deep-seated pain and dysfunction that ran through the Sykes family.

I could see the muscle in Caleb's jaw working as he clenched his teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously. But I was beyond caring about his anger now.

"You weren't there, Caleb," I continued, my voice breaking. "You weren't there when he needed you most. And now you have the audacity to say he's better off dead? What kind of father are you?"

"Rory was never ours, Elizabeth." Caleb's voice dropped low, a dangerous edge to his words. "Mama was never gonna let you be in that boy's life and there's a reason for that." His frame now towered over mine, using his height to intimidate. "Look at the way you're raising Emily –" His skinny finger pointed accusingly towards where our daughter slept. "Coddling and loving on her every moment – that girl isn't gonna have a chance in hell when she finds her way out of this holler."

The implication behind his words sent a chill down my spine. The revelation about Rory not being "ours" hung in the air, raising a multitude of questions I was too angry to process at the moment. Instead, I focused on his attack on my parenting.

"Are you saying that I'm a bad mother because I love my children?" We were toe-to-toe at this point, neither of us backing down. My voice dripped with venom as I spat out, "I'm sorry I don't want my children to be shells of humans like your whole goddamn family."

The tension between us was palpable, years of resentment and family secrets bubbling to the surface. Caleb's words about Rory and his criticism of my parenting Emily revealed a deep-seated conflict in values and a disturbing family dynamic.

I could see the muscle in Caleb's jaw working, his eyes narrowed dangerously. The mention of his family being "shells of humans" clearly struck a nerve, but I was beyond caring about his feelings at this point.

"You don't understand, Elizabeth," Caleb growled, his breath hot on my face. "This world ain't kind, especially not to folks from these parts. Coddling don't prepare you for what's out there."

"And what? Neglect and emotional abuse does?" I shot back, refusing to be cowed. "Is that the Sykes family secret to success?"

A sinister chuckle slipped past his lips. “Coming from the girl who’s parents died because they were too damn stupid to survive out in those mountains and leaning on the trust of some old drunkard to take care of you.” His knees bent so we were eye to eye, his breath hot and tainted with malice. “I’m sure your folks would be happy to know their sweet daughter turned out to be a filthy whore that every fool on their way west buried their cock in before leaving town.”

I could feel tears prick my eyeline, but I fought them back, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. “No one was ever desperate like you, darling husband.” His eyes narrowed at my statement, the tension between us thick enough to slice through.

“You’re just another pussy that kept my dick warm—” His breath hit my ear, hot and biting. The words hung in the air, thick with contempt. “If it were up to me—” He paused, letting the silence stretch, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I woulda gotten rid of you and that baby, and no one would’ve ever known or cared.”

A chill ran down my spine, the reality of his words sinking in like a heavy stone. I turned slightly, meeting his gaze, searching for any hint of remorse, but all I saw was cold indifference. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in, as I struggled to find my voice amidst the chaos of my thoughts.

“Do you really think that’s all I am to you?” I managed to whisper, my heart racing. “Just a warm body?”

He scoffed, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. “You’re nothing more than a distraction.”

[b0nesinthegarden]

Idk who needs to hear this but you can pay $8 to listen to Jamie Campbell Bower read smut. Each episode is 40 minutes. You’re welcome.

[anthonyhopeswife]

i would love if u wrote about anthony falling for a fem!reader who’s sweeney’s assistant? she doesn’t do much except write and convince his victims to attend the barbershop, but he was whipped for her the moment they met. please and thank you!!

favor me with your glance. ୨୧

☆*･ﾟ pairing. anthony hope ♡ reader ☆*･ﾟ rating. safe for work ☆*･ﾟ contents. fem reader, fluff, meet-cute, technical hand holding, dark comedy, mutual crushes ☆*･ﾟ word count. 2k+ ☆*･ﾟ ao3. link.

It was another overcast morning in Fleet Street. Grey skies, smog in the air. Nothing short of the usual doom and gloom of London that you had grown accustomed to during all your years spent here. You were alone in Mrs Lovett’s shop, and it was eerily silent save for the distant chatter of people walking the streets outside. You presumed that she and Toby were yet to rise for the day, as they typically preferred to sleep in. You and Mister Todd, however, were always early to wake and perform the morning routine that you had fallen into. 

As your proprietor readied his parlor for the workday, you did the same downstairs. Albeit it was rather minute tasks you would perform, such as straightening up the kitchen or dusting off the utensils or going down to the bakehouse to make sure that ‘supplies’ were well enough stocked for Mrs Lovett to bake into a days’ worth of her renowned pies. It didn’t take very long, so you often used the remainder of the morning hours to fetch yourself some breakfast or just take some time alone. Today, you had decided on the latter, and had leaned against the countertop, lost deep within your own head.

Your work was relatively easy. You ran errands for Mister Todd if needed. You helped to set up shop. Once everything had fallen into place, you took to the streets, lingering around the street corner and trying to convince passersby to stop in for a shave. On occasion, you were summoned to clean up the aftermath of a client — wiping blood from the floors or the window as swiftly as possible. You didn’t care much for that aspect of the job.

It was a decent workload, but it wasn’t all that bad, especially not in exchange for housing and fair pay. It was certainly better than what most people your age had to do to get by. You’d take this over the harsh conditions of a factory, or having to resort to selling — well, worse things. You didn’t like to dwell on those possibilities.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft jingle of a bell. The door had opened — rather suddenly, you might add — and in the entrance stood a young man. He looked familiar, but you didn’t believe you’d ever properly met him, nor even spoken to him. He was tall and thin, perhaps a bit lanky, with wavy blond hair that brushed the tops of his shoulders. Certainly not a face you would forget.

His blue eyes, wide with surprise upon being faced with a stranger, seemed to study you for a few moments. “Oh! I’m sorry, excuse me, Miss. I hadn’t meant to intrude.”

“It’s alright,” you murmured, subconsciously straightening your posture and crossing your arms over your chest. “If you’re here for a pie, I’m afraid we aren’t open until half-past ten.”

“Yes, that’s right…” He mumbled, perhaps more to himself than to you. His voice was soft. Pretty, even. “I know it’s early — and I do apologize — I’m just here to see Mister Todd. Is he in?”

“He’s upstairs. I’ll go and speak to him.” You walked around the counter, starting towards the door that led outside.

“Thank you,” said the stranger, a gentle smile on his face. As you reached the exit, he scrambled to hold it open for you. “Ah — here you are.” A gentle smile.

It was polite of him. You weren’t used to gestures like that, and certainly not from boys you’d never met before. He must not have been from around here. You fought a smile of your own that threatened to tug at the corner of your lips as you brushed past him.

Making haste, you jogged up the stairs and knocked on the door to Mister Todd’s parlor. You knew that he had a particular distaste for people barging in without permission.

“Come,” his gruff voice commanded from inside, and you were quick to oblige. Your employer stood, a cup of tea in hand as he gazed out of the window. Surprisingly, he did you the favor of turning around to face you as you spoke to him.

You offered the older man a quick, respectful bow before you stated your business. “Morning, sir. There’s a boy downstairs asking to see you.”

“A customer?” Sweeney grumbled, as if displeased by the prospect of dealing with someone this early.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. It’s a young man, um, about my age. He asked to see you personally.”

His eyes widened ever-so-slightly in recognition. “Anthony.”

“Ah…” you rocked awkwardly on your feet. It was undeniable that your employer made you nervous. Perhaps that was for the better, given what knowledge you held about him and Mrs Lovett. You always did your very best to walk on eggshells around him. You played an expendable role in this establishment, and one could never quite be sure when he might snap and it would be your throat he was slashing. “You know him, sir?” “He’s a…” His cold gaze faltered. The word ‘friend’ seemed to die in his throat. “An acquaintance of mine.” 

You nodded stiffly in understanding. “Shall I send him up, then?” “No.” He turned away, his focus shifting back to the window. “Tell him I’ll be down shortly.” “Right away.” With that, you spun on your heel and exited the barber shop, your heart racing a bit faster than you cared to admit. In your defense, you never claimed to be brave. You made quick work of the staircase, listening to it creak beneath each step and hoping the old, rickety thing wouldn’t cave beneath your weight.

As you stepped back into the pie shop, you were met with the sight of Anthony sitting at an empty table, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. He looked up at you as you entered, the kind smile still on his face. 

“He says he’ll be down to see you in a minute,” you informed him, unsure of what to do with yourself. Should you leave? Return to your place behind the counter? Make conversation? You weren’t suited for this in the slightest. You did just fine with luring in Sweeney’s clients, but not with talking to handsome, friendly strangers.

He replies, “Alright, then. Thank you for checking.”

It caught you off-guard all over again. You weren’t used to people thanking you simply for doing your job. Actually, come to think of it, you weren’t used to people thanking you at all. “You’re welcome,” you say, blinking away the surprise.

As if he somehow read your mind, Anthony spoke up again. “Would you like to come and sit? I’m sure you could use the rest.”

An array of excuses immediately sprung to your mind. But then it occurred to you that you had nothing better to do, and that you would actually quite like to sit and chat with him. After all, he was the most polite person you think has ever graced Fleet Street with his presence. And, well… He also happened to look like a beautiful prince straight out of the stories you were told as a child. But you were no princess, just a lowly barber’s assistant. You were sure that a boy like him would certainly want nothing to do with you. But that didn’t matter — you could at least stop and have a conversation with him. 

“I’d like that,” you replied, brushing nonexistent dust off of your coat before walking over to sit across from him. Something about him was making you all… fidgety. “So…” you began, hoping some of this sudden nervousness would fade in time. “I was told your name is Anthony?”

“Yes. Anthony Hope. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss.” He extended a hand across the table for you to shake. “What’s your name?”

Reaching out to oblige him, you told him your name. His hand was warm, the fingerless knit glove soft against your palm. Even after you’d shaken it, he seemed almost reluctant to let go.

“That’s a very pretty name.”

“Um, thank you.” You thought for a second that you could feel your face burning. “Your surname is… it’s very pretty as well.”

His eyes fixed on yours. They were pretty. They reminded you of the ocean. “Do you work for Mister Todd?”

“Yes. I was hired earlier this year. I’m his…” The word ‘accomplice’ springs to mind. “His assistant. And you? What’s your occupation? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I’m a sailor,” he answered, his face lighting up with excitement. “I work on a merchant ship called The Bountiful. Transporting goods and things of the sort.”

You couldn’t help but grin at that. He reminded you a bit of a puppy. “That sounds like a nice job to have. I’d love to travel around and see the world.” You mused. You had never left London before. You quite liked the thought of seeing what life was like outside of the dark, dreary place you called home.

“I’m quite fond of it,” he confessed almost shyly. And then, seemingly before he could think better of it, he blurted out, “Perhaps I could show you aboard sometime? If you’d be interested.”

Your lips parted, eyes widening in surprise. That was quite the offer to make to someone he hardly knew, but admittedly… the thought of it made your heart flutter. 

His eyebrows furrow, afraid he’d said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry. Was that too forward? My apologies, Miss, really, I just—”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s not that! I think I would, actually. I’d quite like to see.”

“Ah, yes, that’s good to hear, then…” Anthony looked down, appearing a bit bashful after making such a proposal. Admittedly, you felt the same.

Hoping to break the ice, you reached toward the teapot in the center of the table. You’d used it to make Sweeney a cup this morning, but hadn’t used the rest of the water just yet. Perhaps it would be rude not to offer some to your guest. “Would you like — oops!—” You cut yourself off as your hand accidentally brushed against Anthony’s.

Before you could yank it away at breakneck speed, both of his hands took yours, cradling it gently. “Your hands are freezing!” He exclaimed, concern seeping into his voice. In truth, he was exactly right. It was rather drafty in the shop, particularly at this time of morning, and you didn’t have any gloves to keep your hands warm. Much to your astonishment, Anthony had begun removing his own, and then slipped them onto your hand, the soft black fabric warming your skin almost as much as his touch did. “Here. You can have these. You need them more than I do.”

You began to stammer, your face heating up. “Oh! No, y-you don’t have to do that! I can find some gloves of my own, I—”

“Not to worry. I have many more pairs. You can keep this one.” He flashed a reassuring smile. Reluctantly, you offered your other hand, and he guided the glove on. “There you are. Do you feel any warmer?”

“Yes… That’s… much better. Thank you, Anthony.” As he replied that you were welcome, you had half a mind to grab his hand and hold onto it. He was so warm, so inviting, and something in you wanted nothing more than to cling onto him.

Startling the both of you, the bell on the door jingled again, and Sweeney stepped in, his expression grave as always. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed that your time with the sailor boy was being cut short. 

“I should hope to see you again sometime soon,” Anthony told you as you slid out of the booth.

This time, you didn’t bother suppressing the smile that crept onto your face. “I hope so too.”

With a wave goodbye, which he was eager to return, you decided to give the two of them some privacy, slipping out to head to the living quarters. You couldn’t help but notice Anthony’s eyes on you even as you disappeared from sight and Mister Todd took your place, your heart still beating rapidly in your chest. One thing was for sure, you’d be counting the hours until you could see him again.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer! main character

Chapter 012: Vecna’s Curse

Eddie is scared to commit to you? That’s fine. You have a lap dance to treat Henry to anyway — in the infamous red set that EDDIE bought for you.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013** , 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

somewhat smutty = * , smutty = **

word count: 4k words

NSFW — blindfold kink (*cough* henry), lap dance, grinding, moaning, henry is the whimpering type, shy girl using henry to get off, eddie’s RAGING jealousy

TAKE IT AWAY, JAMIE 🥁🙌🏼

I Put A Spell on You (Jamie’s Version)

“The hooded cultists chant…” Eddie narrates. “Hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna. They turn to you, remove their hoods… you recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize…”

— excerpt from Stranger Things 4: Chapter One: The Hellfire Club.

♡

Eddie is too busy playing D&D with the boys to have any idea what you're up to. It’s just what you wanted, though. Means everything is going according to plan.

“I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.”

Excitement brews within you as you slip on the red DEVIL WOMAN set from Nocturna. When you're done, Max helps to straighten your hair, maintaining it with a generous amount of hairspray, while Chrissy helps you set the final touches of your makeup into place.

"What's up with the blindfold?" Max inquires, nodding towards the piece of cloth tied around your wrist.

"Part of my act," you explain ominously. "I plan on using it on Henry for the first part of my set. He's a...sensitive guy, to say the least."

"You are way too good at this," your sister shakes her head in disbelief, brushing through your hair one last time.

"Intense emotions spark creativity," you shrug, admiring the vixen that is you in the vanity. "No man is leaving unscathed tonight."

It all rings true. Tonight, you have the power. And all of Hellfire is going to know it.

"Well you look absolutely soul-snatching," Chrissy hoots as she takes a good look at you. “You’re gonna have him on his knees.”

You bite your lip in anticipation. " Who? Eddie or Henry?"

"Both," she shrugs. "But since we're on that topic, I just know Eddie is going to come crawling back."

The three of you share a malicious giggle with one another, thinking about all the ways Eddie is going to crumble, seeing another man enjoy you in the set that he bought. He had his chance to commit to you, but now he has to face the consequences of what happens when he doesn't man up on time.

The dressing room door opens. By instinct, you turn to see who it is. In struts Nina, counting the dollar bills in her hands as she just emerged from doing her set at the tip rail.

"Oooh look at you go!" you whistle. "They're loving you out there, mama."

"I'm literally so shook," Nina raves, tucking her bills away into her bag. "This is my best night thus far."

When she's all squared away, Nina makes her way over to you and envelopes you in a warm hug. "You look so fucking sexy! Go kill it out there, girl."

You smile at the compliment, heart fluttering in a room full of girls' girls.

"Thank you, sweetheart," you respond to her, rubbing her back with the utmost adoration. "You too."

Chrissy helps you don your cloak, shielding you from giving away the trick you have up your sleeve. After one final check in the mirror, you're ready to put on a show.

"Ready," you announce with a mischievous grin.

“Go get him, tiger,” Chrissy pats your back.

“You better stop the things you do, I ain’t lyin’. No, I ain’t lyin’”

Your heels click with intention across the cool floor of the club as you strut towards your victim. He's smiling and laughing with all his friends, unsuspecting of the stake you're about to, figuratively, drive through his heart.

"Good game, gentlemen," Eddie concludes as he and the boys wrap up their campaign. "I’ll see you all next week for Rise of Kas. Try not to die in that one, yeah?"

You watch as the younger guys scatter to prep for the rush. Steve and Eddie stay behind to clean up the area. When Steve sees you, he offers you a tender side hug before issuing a kiss hello to your forehead.

"Hey you," Steve smiles.

"Hey," your eyes gleam up at him. "Didn't know you play D&D."

Eddie's eyes travel up to you the moment he hears your voice. He freezes in place the moment you meet his gaze. If he reacted this way to just you with your cloak on — exalting and apologetic — you can't even begin to imagine the look on his face when he sees what you have under it.

But until time brings you to that point, you settle for feigning dissastisfaction while he attempts to strike up a casual conversation.

"He doesn’t, I was just showing him the ropes,” Eddie chuckles, nervously resting his hands at his sides. “He’s doing great though.”

You nod absentmindedly, diverting your attention to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington instead.

"You look beautiful, Hargrove," your boss attempts. "More than usual, I mean. Absolutely stunning.”

You can tell he’s already regretful about how he worded things a couple nights ago. The guilt on his face is like no other. But with the guilt comes those eyes. Those charming eyes that will get you to fold every time. Tonight is the exception.

"Thanks," you utter emptily to him.

"You got main stage tonight?"

"No, I've got a semi-private dance," you respond as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Semi-priv..." Eddie tries to figure it out. "What do you mean by that?"

"Hello, hello," a familiar voice greets you guys.

Right on schedule.

Henry makes his way over to you all with the biggest grin on his face. It's weird seeing him in outside clothes. He's dressed in a white t-shirt and black leather jacket, tight black jeans, and black combat boots. The blonde deity flashes you a seductive look.

"Days bleeding into one another again, Creel?" Eddie questions. "You're not on today, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I know," Henry shrugs. "I have a dance today with one of our special friends."

"Oh shit!" Eddie exclaims, going over to give him a celebratory fist bump. "Chrissy agreed to give you one?"

"No, not Chrissy," you chime in. "Me!"

Eddie's eyes widen. Steve's eyes widen.

"Holy shit!" Steve says. "Creel is actually getting a lap dance! That's so out of his comfort zone."

Steve's arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you in front of him. You feel his hardened cock sneak up against your ass.

"And from Shy Girl too?" Steve's voice deepens, rasp factor at an all time high. "You're in for a treat."

"Wouldn't expect any less," Henry blushes.

Henry’s voice is soft, but there’s a hunger in his gaze. Eddie tries to conceal how bothered he is. You see him frantically scanning the club for a sort of scapegoat, a way in delaying the nightmare that is about to ensue.

“Actually…” Eddie clears his throat. “Now that I think about it, we might get busy within the hour. You mind clocking in for a bit to help Jim out front?”

Henry cocks a puzzled brow. “Jim was playing Candy Crush when I dapped him up at the door. Mans is fine.”

“Yeah, the man is fine, Eddie,” you jeer. “And Henry’s been working sooo hard, it’s the least I can do for him.”

Your boss’s jaw clenches when he realizes his plan has fallen through. He’s got no scapegoat, you're dressed like revenge overdue, and his friends are insistent on watching this dance…

He’s screwed.

"If you insist," Eddie mutters sharply. “Tip her well, Creel.”

“Of course, man.”

Eddie excuses himself but remains in the area like a fly on the wall. He scrambles around, greeting regulars with a handshake and dusting off tables, anything to look busy and unbothered by the idea that his presence doesn't affect you the slightest.

But he is seething. Troubled. He can’t read you or your next move and it’s driving him mad.

While you coordinate your routine with the DJ, Argyle escapes from the kitchen. You hear him eagerly yelp when he discovers that Henry is getting a dance, followed by a determined, "I've gotta watch this".

And now that everything is going to plan, you take a moment to gather yourself backstage.

Before you head out, Nancy meets you by the curtains with extra bobby pins that you requested. You assume Chrissy spilled all the beans, judging by the words Nancy whispers in your ears before you head out,

“Give that man hell.”

(he sounds so much like jamie)

HELLFIRE: hell·fire

/ˈhelˌfī(ə)r/(noun): The torment and punishment of hell, envisaged as eternal fire.

"Alright, Shy Girl!" you hear Argyle shout from the pit of VECNA'S LAIR. "Henry is ready when you are."

You give the DJ a nod to start the song. Let the show begin.

“YOU put a spell on ME, I’m losing my mind”

You start your set at the pole, walking a slow circle around it before beginning your dance. Though a dance for Henry only, a crowd outside your immediate circle starts to gather around. Henry is sitting on Vecna's throne, watching inquisitively while you do your introduction. And Eddie follows suit, floating around like a lost puppy.

“You better stop these things. It’s a matter of TIME🕰️”

*DING* a grandfather clock chimes, a sound mixed in by the DJ as he makes the set his own.

The crowd cheers as you strut your sexy self down the stage, smirking to yourself as Henry timidly grips the armrests of Vecna's throne.

Your gaze pans to Eddie. You watch as guests attempt to have a conversation with him in the lair, but he is just not tuned into what they're saying.

Eddie is hypnotized by you, spellbound by a curse that he got himself tangled up in. Oh, how pitiful. To dig his own grave...

“Before I hunt you down..."

Poor Eddie. He has already lost.

"...grab your chin...and kiss your lips…”

You stroke Henry's face as you walk past him, stopping behind him close enough to see the goosebumps and baby hairs rising at the nape of his neck.

You tug on the corner of the blindfold and the knot undoes itself. Henry beams up at you with his eager ocean eyes as you hold the blindfold in your hands. You bend down behind him, exploring his chest with your delicate hands, before tying the blindfold snugly around his eyes.

You check in with your friend. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing just fine,” Henry answers. “Thank you, Shy Girl.”

“Of course.”

“And you bring me back, I lay you down and grab your hips”

Eddie’s claimed a seat now, somewhere towards the back. Though it's harder to see him now, you just know he’s eyeing your technique intently, watching as you slither back to the front of Henry, stroking the bouncer’s face before lowering yourself onto his lap.

Henry’s breath trembles upon realization. He leans back and spreads himself across the chair so you can take up all the space that you needed to make him feel good.

He sucks in a breath.

“Breathe out, Henry…” you encourage him. “Steady breaths… there you go. Relax those shoulders now.”

Henry exhales, sinking his shoulders into flaccidity as he allows you to navigate his lap.

Eddie’s tapping his feet profusely, likely as an attempt to self-regulate. His folded palms rest below his chin as he studies you, attempting to construe whether or not this is something you are genuinely enjoying.

“And we lose all control. And before you know…”

And Eddie should know, that indeed, you are enjoying yourself… and Henry very much.

Henry's hands explore your ass now, and you use this position as leverage to grind yourself against him, your hips rotating to the shape of your stage name spelled out in cursive.

Shy Girl

A soft whimper escapes Henry’s lips as you grind, your ego inflating as he tosses his head back in pleasure.

“What’s the matter, baby boy?” you ask him. “Too much for you already?”

“No,” Henry smiles, seemingly up for a challenge. “I just wanna see your pretty face so bad.”

“Do you now?” you quip.

“Yes I do,” he nods. “Pretty please.”

“Well since you’re being so polite…”

“I put a spell on you, now you’re mine. I’ve got a hold on you, at least for the night.”

Your fingers return to the back of Henry’s neck to rid him of the blindfold you menacingly decided to tease him with. When it collapses, you meet Henry’s starstruck eyes, making sure they process you grinding your hips, exploring his chest, his shoulders, the sensitive parts of his earlobes.

“Fuuuck,” Henry whines. “How are you so good at this?”

“How are you such a good client?” you counter. “So well-behaved for me, Henry.”

Steve and Argyle make their way to either sides of him, showering you with dollar bills because Henry’s hands were occupied. They were exploring your thighs, hovering over your ass, rubbing your back while his mouth praises your every action, your every attribute, your everything.

“Goddd DAMN!” Argyle roars, incentivizing you further.

“What’d I tell you, Creel?” Steve smirks. “Ain’t she something?”

“Fuck yeah, she is,” Henry’s voice is but a barely audible gasp now. “And to think we’ve just scratched the surface.”

He tugs at your cloak pleadingly. You giggle at him, admiring his pretty puppy dog eyes that he’s put on for you.

“You know I can’t help myself when you ask tenderly if I’d dim the lights as your hand brushes me.”

Eddie glares sharply as he watches Henry continue to tug at the strings of your cloak, practically begging you to start stripping for him.

His misery is waiting behind that very garment.

“Wanna show me what’s underneath?” Henry incites.

The lights of VECNA’S LAIR begin to flicker and the classic yellow spotlight quickly changes to red. That’s your cue.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you giggle.

“And the floor swallows your clothes”

You undo the knot of your cloak that tied everything together. Slowly, to the beat of the song, the cloak slips off of you, revealing the beautiful red set.

“Oooh”s, “ahhh”s, and “wooo”s fill the air as the cloak sinks to the floor.

“And your silhouette puts on a show”

From the corner of your eye, you notice Eddie sit right up.

You try to figure out if he recognizes your set or not. But judging by his flustered face, and envious gaze, he sure does. There’s a pain in his eyes as his brows form a sullen arch. You watch as Eddie’s nostrils flare as he jams his fingers into his thighs, digging the balls of his feet into the floor in rout. He can hardly keep himself contained, he’s so angry.

And like a bull at a rodeo, Eddie sees red.

Meanwhile, Henry falls deeper into his state of arousal.

“Wow…” your patron beams. “That’s such a beautiful set, Shy Girl.”

You blush. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Henry insists. “It fits you perfectly. You did a good job.”

“Yeah,” you chime. Then your gaze travels to Eddie who is trying his hardest to conceal his jealousy. “I did do great, didn’t I?”

You allow Henry’s hands to explore all the set’s finest little details, from the little gems to the intricate seams. Henry traces your figure by following the pattern of the set, humming in pleasure to himself at the sight of you.

"That set is gorgeous, baby," Steve coos as he admires you from head to toe. "Did you pick that out yourself?"

“I can’t remember,” you turn to Steve as he rubs your shoulders. “It’s been collecting dust in my closet for a while so I figured I’d wear it today.”

“That was a good choice,” Steve’s voice deepens. “This is my favorite set on you so far.”

"Mm!" an unexpected moan escapes your mouth.

A crinkle in Henry’s pants from his thigh region rides up a nerve ending along your clit. Your mind short circuits from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Soon you forget about the lap dance and start subtly immersing yourself with friction, rubbing harder and harder against Henry’s tense quads as he lets you.

Aside from you, only Henry seems to know what’s going on.

He smirks, the most sinister grin you’ve never seen come from him before. “Find what you’re looking for?”

You nod rapidly, encouraging him to stay in place while you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs to himself, watching you chase your high on top of him, knowing he's the one who has the reigns now.

“That’s right,” he fawns. “Take what you need from me, baby.”

"Yes Master," you say to him, knowing it's a kink of his. You feel him harden underneath you when he hears those words come out of your mouth.

Curious on whether or not he's still watching, you can’t help but get a glimpse of Eddie. And past the layers of all the strobe lights of VECNA’S LAIR, you meet his eyes.

“You put a spell on me. I’m LOSING my mind”

They’re twinkling. But not in the way you’d want. Soon Eddie's hand aggressively swoops across his eye, as he quickly wipes — what looks like — a teardrop away.

You continue to watch him as he excuses himself from the crowd, pulling his entire weight with him as he drags his feet towards his office.

It's enough to make your cold heart melt. When you see the way his shoulders sulk and how slow he seems to be walking in the busy atmosphere of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club, it dawns on you that you may have taken it too far.

Henry sees your eyes wandering, dwelling on Eddie as they become rather glazed themselves. He directs your focus back to him with his fingers at your chin.

“Why do you cry for him, Shy Girl?” Henry observes. It’s like he can read your mind. “After everything he’s done to you?"

You swallow hard as you struggle to find the words.

"...You give me fever, and drive me insane"

Fuck Eddie. Fuck Eddie. Fuck Eddie.

You've been hurt countless times but you still love with your heart on your sleeve. Why couldn't Eddie do the same?

Sure, his father was abusive and absent. Yours was too. Sure he found his mom dead at the hands of his father and drugs. That was also your childhood experience. Sure he had to grow up rather early just like you did, putting all his needs last while taking care of other family members because no one else would step up. And sure, the only woman he loved enough to marry framed him for a crime he didn't commit, with the idea of inheriting his assets on her mind. You've felt that used before too.

So what if all the people he's ever cared about stabbed him not only in the back, but in the front as well?

...just like you're doing right now.

It really dawns on you this time. You're not any better.

Fuck, you're an asshole. The answer is so clear to you now, you don't understand how you could have been so selfish before. You're both different sides of the same coin, it seems.

"Hm?” Henry tuts when you don't respond. "You think you need Eddie, but you don't. No, no... you don't."

Henry then starts to buck his own hips upwards, grinding along with you.

You feel guilty that Henry feels so good, taunting your clit mercilessly with just the fabric of his dark jeans alone. To distract yourself from all guilt crashing down on you, you start to envision that it's not Henry, but Eddie whose underneath you.

You miss Eddie. You really, really do. You miss his laugh, his random outbursts of energy. You miss how he instantly drew in a crowd no matter where he went. His presence was electricity, sending shockwaves down your body with the slightest skin-to-skin touch. You missed how his fingers felt pulsing in and out of you, curving themselves as he looks you dead in the eye because your pleasure was his utmost concern. You miss his periodic check-ins, how he wouldn't relax until you made it clear that you were okay. You miss how dirty and magical he made you feel, but ultimately how sexy and loved were and felt in his presence, even on the rocky days.

Fuck, Eddie.

"You keep me going in circles with potions and bottles... And I can't escape... I can't escape..."

Fuck, you fantasize. Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.

"I'm lost in your ways... I can't escape, baby."

There's a part in the song that gives you an 'out' from your routine. You wrap up your dance there, completing it with a tender kiss to Henry's cheek as he smiles up at you. The crowd goes wild, and Steve and Argyle continue to spoil you with ones, fives, and tens, enticed by how sultry you made everything look and feel with such little effort.

"Thank you, darling," Henry coos as he rubs your back one final time.

"Any time," you say to him. "I hope I helped alleviate some of your stress."

The boys help you collect your bills while people from all around swarm you with compliments. Eventually, Maxine and Chrissy make their way over to you, ambushing you with hugs and fangirling over your entire performance.

"You did amazing, sis!" Max squeals as she jumps up and down. "You should've seen the look on Eddie's face. Oh you so won!"

"Yeah..." you mumble absentmindedly as you search the club for Eddie. "Yay me..."

--------

It's the last call now before closing and you're helping everyone shut down their stations. You'd typically be back in the dressing room counting your bills by now, but the inner server in you can't help but stay behind.

"Hey!" Argyle speaks up. "Since all of us are off tonight, anyone wanna go barhopping?"

"I'm down!" Steve agrees. "Night's still young and that was the plan last time we were all together, yeah?"

"Shy Girl, you wanna come with?" Jonathan asks.

"Uh, I gotta count my tips and then get to bed," you say, turning the offer down. "I can close the register if you want, Jon so you can catch up with everybody."

"Oh really? Thanks!"

The group invites Max too, promising they would take good care of your little sister. Chrissy offers to be her DD, since she knows that Max drinks. All of you did, when you were her age.

"Please, sis?" Max begs. "All my discussion posts are done and I wanna turn up before midterms."

"Fine," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "But remember, if it smells weird or stinky..."

"Do not drinky..." Max rolls her eyes as she reaches to grab Chrissy by the hand. "Done deal. Thanks again!"

And soon the group vacates the area, leaving only you behind to shut the place down for the night.

When you're done closing out the register, you gather all your things to start packing up. Suddenly, you hear the locks to a distant door jingle and the doorknob turn slightly to doublecheck.

Eddie's still here.

You hear him start to make his way towards POTIONS, his worn out converse making quiet taps against the stone floor.

The natural light from the windows near the ceiling illuminates into the dark space, revealing Eddie's face and the pained expression that still rests upon it. His eyes are puffy, his demeanor hard to read.

You clear his throat at him.

"I thought you left."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "I like to stay behind for a bit sometimes. Make sure I got everything I need."

"I see..." is all you say.

"Told you that set would bring in a lot of tips."

"There you go again, being right about things," you say in a forfeiting tone.

"I'm not always right."

You can't look at him right now. Not when you've caused him so much distress and he's still choosing to speak to you. You gather your belongings and hold your head down in shame, excusing yourself from the narrative and Eddie's presence indefinitely.

"Whatever you say, Eds," you try to smile. "Goodnight."

Nervous now, you put your cloak back on and make your way out of the bar. You nod to Eddie goodnight and start towards your dressing room to prepare for your drive home.

However, it stuns you again as Eddie turns his heels and follows suit...trailing ever so closely behind you... to the dressing room as well.

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