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yanderenightmare · 10 months ago

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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, dehumanization, dollification, patronization, condescension

♡ FEM reader

This is his playroom. It’s got puzzle-piece foam flooring and is filled to the brim with all sorts of different toys—including you. He’s got stuffed animals, pretty dolls, toy soldiers, Lego builds, and a gaming station with all types of fun—and parental safety restrictions, of course, no talking to strangers for you. Your controller is a pretty baby pink, and his a cool camo-green. But today, they’re left on the floor, untouched.

Because today, he only wants to play with you.

“You’re gonna be so pretty…” His voice is as grating as always—synthetically childish, making you grit your teeth. Sitting with you between his legs before the mirror, working diligently.

You look at the floor to avoid your reflection.

He’d gotten you a brand new baby-blue dress and painted you himself—done your eyelids up in matching clear skies, black lashes moth-like and fluttery, cheeks a rosy pink, and lips a sheer gloss extra plump and pretty—no need for tint—you bite them so cutely, they’re already his favorite color. Your hair’s done up in curls and ringlets, so bouncy and soft, beribboned with plentiful white bows.

“This color suits you so well. Makes you look like a cake-topper. Bite-sized. I could eat you right up.” He hums behind you, fiddling with the many intricacies, doing them up perfectly—no rush.

Looking up, the person staring back at you looks no different from a life-sized porcelain doll. Pristine, mint condition, fit to be put behind glass. In your frilly dress, petticoat and stockings. Just like Alice down the rabbit hole.

The only thing that betrays the illusion is the leather collar on your throat and the chain running from it to the middle of the floor. But no matter.

He’s got a giddy smile on his face— chest swelled with pride at his work. You’re his most prized possession. You really are! There isn’t a single toy in this room that can compete with you.

He’s not wearing anything special to match. Bedhead, undressed, still in his pajama pants. Why wouldn’t he be? This is his playroom, after all—his downtime—where he can be a boy with his toy. Though, calling him a boy isn’t exactly right—what with him being nearly in his thirties. Not to mention that he’s about two heads taller than you, with abs like an athlete, toned and chiseled and hard to the touch, hard enough to strain your wrists when he bears down on you. Oh, and that thing in his pants.

You bite your tongue and steal yourself. It would be easy to cry, but he only gets weirder about it then. So you stifle it, even though you look so stupid you want to act like an animal. Tear the dress to shreds and rub your makeup into a mess—scream, bite, spit on him. You’d done all that once before to no avail other than punishments that still keep you up at night. Once was enough. He didn’t play nice with you.

But then again, when does he ever?

“Hmm, think I’m done…” he announces after having dallied with the lace of your corset for a quarter-hour—it’s so tight you have to appreciate every breath. “Time to have some fun.”

He treats you no different from a doll either. Scooping you up into his arms like an inanimate object and carrying off to the princess bed—the one that looks like a girl’s birthday cake with a veil on top, and mountains of pillows all too soft.

He places you down on top of the duvet and it seems to swallow you like an ocean. He dives after, covering you like a fishnet. You take a final breath before he can drown, your hand on his chest, holding him at a distance.

“I was thinking, uhm…” you start, the words coming out odd, barely recognizable as your voice—only noticing now how long it had been since you’d spoken last. “I was…” you restart, but it’s still no easier. His eyes are large and unblinking, staring down at you as though he’s just as surprised as you are to found out you speak. “Hoping we could play… a little differently this time?”

He blinks at the request, having fallen completely still above you.

“Really? How?” The suddenness of his words make you flinch. You don’t know what you had expected—maybe a smile and something dismissive. It had been a while since he’d spoken directly to you like that—and not to himself in absentminded comments about you.

You recover some time, seeing him stare down at you all expectantly in wait. He follows when you guide him into sitting instead of looming over you, putting yourself in his lap—straddling him. “Mh, like this. Maybe?”

It’s a gamble. He’d never had you on top before, nor ever shown an interest in it. Setting aside the time you’d been sprawled on your belly over his thighs, his hand riddled in your hair and his other hand branding your ass with his very own toy company logo.

His expression is unreadable—perhaps a little confused if you were to take a guess.

“Oh!” he erupts with a smile you hope is the good sort. “You mean I play the toy and you the master?” He laughs brightly, falling on his back with a hand over his face, cackling through his fingers as though it were the most absurd proposal he’d ever heard.

But despite his obvious amusement, you still feel it—his toy poking into you from beneath.

He settles after a moment. “Alright then, why not?” Looking up at you—his hair a tousled mess splayed upon the bed, eyes as gleeful as the quirk on his lips. “Who knows… it could be fun.”

He props his arms behind his head, lounging comfortably.

“I did call you a cake-topper, after all,” he snickers. “I’ll lie perfectly still, like a good toy, while you play with me. Sound good?”

You can’t believe how open he was to it. Still a little apprehensive, you nod your head.

And then the game begins…

He doesn’t exactly stay true to his word. But you suppose that would be too much to ask. His head still rests pretty on the pillow with his eyes closed, smiling in satisfaction—for now, sated with your performance. Groaning in absentminded bliss, “You’re right. This is fun~”

But he hadn’t stayed perfectly still like he’d said. He’d reached out when you’d finally begun riding and now his arms keep you snug against his chest, fine-pressed sweaty skin against your frilly bust, more in a lock than a hug. It makes it kind of difficult to do what he wants, but you try your best—knees and toes planted in the mattress for stability as you jerk your hips on his lap. It’s awkward, but riding him like this is still better than the alternative, after all.

You keep your arms around the back of his neck, resting your face in the cradle it creates beneath his chin, panting lowly—eyes closed in focus away from the pain, brows tight with your tongue between your teeth, trying to maintain the rhythm despite the blossoming ache that’s started to spread from your hips down your thighs—another ill sting in the small of your back crawling up your spine. It’s hard staying bent over like this, and your movements are turning sluggish…

There’s a sigh from above you, pitchy and just awful. “Aww, is it really time already?” he whines—previous satisfaction dwindling—bordering on something else entirely now, the opposite and so much worse—boredom with a hint of disappointment—a spoiled child with a toy that’s run out of battery.

You shake your head, burying your face in his neck and tightening your grip, stealing yourself with newfound strength to maintain the tempo you had before while muffling out a desperate, “No, I can keep going—”

He lets out another sound, this time in thought. “Hmm...” It doesn’t give you much confidence—how lax a sound it is—as if he isn’t even close to being spent yet. “I don’t know… You’re so slow. I’m gonna get soft if this is all you got, y’know?”

He starts moving—sitting up. He takes his own hold on your hips, and you know what that means. And you can’t handle being played with, not when he damn near breaks you each and evert time.

“No, wait! I can keep going, please, just a little longer?” you insist, both palms pushed flat on his chest with your round eyes looking at him hopelessly in plead for a second chance—even though you know he isn’t one with the patience to give you one.

He stares blankly back, big-eyed in surprise at your outburst. Though still not convinced it would be worth humoring you. If he was being honest, he’d enjoyed it more than he thought he would but had now had his fill and wanted to take charge as usual and finish the job. However…

Oh, you’re being so uncharacteristically cute today—and that pathetic look of desperation on your face is truly something else…

He smiles deceptively softly, so brightly it reaches his eyes. He very nearly looks innocent like that, but you know him too well—so well that the sight of his lips curling gives you nothing but a churning stomach.

“Okay then, doll. You convinced me.”

Suppose it doesn’t hurt letting you have your way sometimes. You have been on very good behavior lately, after all. He ought to reward you.

“I’ll be your toy a little longer.” He murmurs with a lazy smirk, nose-kissing you—patronizing, as though he’s doing you a big favor.

It doesn’t grant you any peace, and neither does the way he keeps his hold on your hips, rubbing smooth circles into the fat leisurely, letting you know he wouldn't be removing them—it serves as some type of encouragement as you start moving again.

It’s easier now when you’re upright. Holding his shoulders, you can jump rather than buck—up and down, up and down, up and down—it’s simple enough. Or it was for a moment, at least, before he planted your hips down.

“Not like that,” he shakes his head softly. “Like this.” He moves you after his will, wanting you to grind instead—putting you back in square one.

Your movement staggers, and you mask a wince with a moan—fuck, your muscles are so sore, maintaining this movement is enough to make your loins scream, feeling all but set on fire.

With one hand keeping you seated, the other takes hold of your leash and pulls you in close, his lips on the dew of your rouge-dusted cheek—you feel the grin, and like prey threatened by a hunter’s teeth, you shiver in respect of it. “Come on, dolly, ride or die, faster,” he simpers, voice laced with mockery and amusement.

Your thighs are shaking now, tightened up in anguish, begging for a break—soon to take it without your permission. How much you can take reaches a point, and everything goes slack not a second too soon.

“And now you’re done,” he snickers hotly under his breath, planting a kiss on the side of your glossy lips while you exhaustedly and gingerly take your break with a feeling of defeat. He speaks low, and you dread every eerie lick of his words, “My turn to play.”

You want to protest, but you know it’s no use. He’d made up his mind now, and challenging it any further would only turn you into a nuisance—toys are supposed to enjoy being played with, after all—best take it with grace and shut up before he reminds you.

He flips the both of you around with ease, reclaiming his spot—on top. He loves you like this, splayed out beneath him like a puppet—just waiting to have all your strings pulled.

It was good while it lasted, you think—maybe if you get better, you can make him finish and not have to endure what comes next.

“Don’t pout, dolly—that was fun,” he kisses you lips as they start to tremble. “But you suit being my toy so much better.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo ♡ HQ – Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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bestalbertcamuslover · 5 months ago

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Retirement Temptations

↳ Masterlist

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: None✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

As she stepped into their apartment, shrugging off her coat and kicking off her low black heels, she barely had a moment to breathe before Max spoke.

“I just don’t understand,” he said, watching her intently, his tone both curious and fond.

She chuckled, rolling her shoulders to shake off the weight of the day. “First, hi. And what is it that’s so impossible to understand?”

Max was already closing the distance between them, his hands finding their way to her hips, warm and familiar, as he pulled her against him. “Why you keep working,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “Just leave it. I maintain you.”

She let out a soft laugh, resting her hands on his chest. “Max.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re always saying how stressful it is, how exhausted you are. You don’t need it. I don’t need it. I just want you happy.”

She softened, brushing a hand through his hair. “Babe, I love my job.”

His brow lifted, unconvinced. “You love the thing that keeps you at the office late? That makes you groan in frustration when emails won’t stop coming in? That has you collapsing onto the couch the second you walk through the door?”

She let out a small hum, pretending to consider it. “When you put it like that…”

He smirked, pleased with himself. “See?”

She shook her head, smiling. “But it also excites me, makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. And I love that feeling.”

Max exhaled, his fingers grazing soothing circles against her waist. “You know what else is worthwhile? Waking up slow, spending the whole day together, traveling wherever we want, whenever we want.”

She laughed softly, tilting her head. “You paint a very nice picture.”

“I do drive for a living,” he teased, grinning when she rolled her eyes at the pun. His voice softened then, thumb grazing her cheek. “I just don’t like seeing you so drained. I wish I could make it easier for you.”

She melted at his words, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet. “You already do., but yeah, I’m not leaving my job.”

Max huffed, though there was no real exasperation behind it, just that playful stubbornness he always had when he wanted something. His fingers tightened slightly on her waist as he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers.

“Oh, come on,” he murmured, voice low, teasing. “Just think about it—waking up whenever you want, no meetings, no deadlines… just me, all day, every day.”

She snorted. “Wow, you really know how to sell it.”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “I do my best.”

She let her fingers trail up the back of his neck, tilting her head as if considering it. “Hmm, a man maintaining a woman… kinda vintage of you, don’t you think? Very 1950s housewife. Should I start greeting you at the door in a dress and pearls with a martini in hand?”

Max let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

She gasped, playfully pushing at his chest. “Oh my God, you are sexist!”

“I am not!” he defended, grinning. “I just think you work too hard, and I happen to be very rich. It’s called efficiency.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well, Mr. Efficiency, I like my job, and I like working, so you’re just gonna have to suffer through it.”

He sighed dramatically, squeezing her closer. “Fine. But don’t expect me to stop trying to convince you.”

She grinned, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

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irndad · 10 months ago

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She favorites recipes on Instagram.

It’s a little embarrassing how Carmen knows- that when she’s at his place watching him sketch dishes she can’t taste, he’s also paying attention to what’s on her phone. And it’s usually kistchy things- dresses and outfits with legwarmers, pop-culture breakdowns he doesn’t have time to understand, and yes, occassionally, recipes.

Carmen adores her company. It’s a private truth, one that they boht know and yet he can’t admit under her gaze. She’s a friend of Richie’s which is endlessly fucking confusing. Both because of how incredible she is, and because it is truly insane to imagine Richie with friends.

Carmen supposes they’re friends too, now. It doesn’t feel quite right, the way she scribbles notes for him in the mornings and has slept over quite often. She’s busy, has her own life and her own career and he’s lucky for the time he spends with her. He doesn’t really have time to date her the way he’d like to, with dinner dates and late night drives down Lake Shore, watching the sunrise over the lake on mornings where time feels like no object.

He’s clearly given this some thought.

Anyhow, it doesn’t matter now. Now, she’s slept over. He’s got a full-size, which felt like a good enough excuse to share the bed, even though every time they do he still ends wrapped around her like a vice, like roots of a tree, raveled in a way that seems inpenetrable.

She’s sipping on an energy drink- he’s offered her the coffee that he’s imported, and prepared with care, but she’d obviously thought it was too bitter. And now he keeps energy drinks in the house when she stays over. She’s popped in one of her wired earbuds, and the light washes over her like a halo. She’s got a bonafide glow while she sits on his counter, scrolling through recipes.

“That looks good,” he hears himself say, a little outside of himself, as she stops scrolling. It’s a pasta dish, and she’s favorited it. It looks more complex than it is, really, but he’s not sure he’s a good source.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I had it once when I was in Paris. It was fucking insane, Carmen, it’s so good. I’m always looking for a place to get it. I don’t really think there’s a place in Chicago where you can get it, actually.”

“It was seasonal actually,” he says back, her eyes fixed to his now, “Ever used to make it every fall. Easier to source the pine nuts.”

She looks so, so fond of him that Carmen could entertain the idea of leaning over the counter and kissing her. It’s incredibly tempting, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, endeared by his knowledge. He feels guilty, how he plays with the pencil, knowing she’s stared appreciatively at his hands. He enjoys being pretty to her, leaning into the fantasy that he could be more than her weird fuck-up friend of a friend that’s too chicken-shit to ask her out. How odd is it, that he knows what it’s like to wake up to the smell of her shampoo, but has no idea how she likes to be kissed?

He’s so bad at this he’s failed before he’s even started.

He can cook, though.

Cooking is methodical, and so he does it. it’s an easy love language, for him. he dices the parsely and the other fresh herbs, sautes them wirh precision, uses some of the nice butter from work- it’s a marvel, at the end of it, fragrant and warm, waiting for her arrival.

When she does make her arrival, just on time for him, he plates the dish before she comes in.

“Oooh,” she preens, raking her eyes up and down him. He feels perciebed, but in a way that he’d like to be. Look at me, he thinks. What a pleasure to be seen by her. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he stammers out, “Thought I’d thank you for all your help. Late nights you’ve been staying up with me, talking through the menu and all- thought I could make you something.”

When she tastes it, it’s careful and adoring, and he’s good at this.

“Yes chef,” she says teasingly, “Oh my god, Carmen, this is so sweet. You didn’t have to do that. I like being here.”

He wants to kiss her again, doesn’t know why he’s not letting himself. She meets him halfway, though, kissing the corner of his mouth that only a fool would imply has plausible platonic deniability.

“Thanks, Carm.”

“Anytime.”

He’ll kiss her properly next time.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x You #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear x reader

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mahi-wayy · 3 months ago

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𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing : dean winchester x brown!fem!reader

fandom & series : supernatural | brown!reader series ( dean ver. )

length : 3.9k ( not proofread. deal with it. )

summary : "बिस्तर ये तेरा मेरा अरे जंग का मैदान है" [ OR ] tension between you and dean finally snaps.

warnings : foul language, mention of gore, misogyny, inappropriate touch, drunk men ( yes these mfs should be a warning ) eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex ( NO! BAD! wrap it up guys ) creampie, dom/sub dynamics ( kind of ) sub!dean winchester, dry humping, edging, impala sex ( ALMOST ) dirty talk, oral ( both m & f recieving ) begging, glimpse of pussy drunk dean, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position.

library

It all started with you wanting to help him.

It's been well over 6 months since you've been travelling with Sam and Dean and life has turned out to be a lot more fun than you thought. Sure the boys got their noses in all things trouble but they did it to save people.

And hunting wasn't as scary as you thought, though you were learning the physical part of the job, you had the lore and talking to witnesses part covered from like the first week.

So you didn't think you would encounter this much resistance from Dean when you offered help in a salt and burn for a vengeful spirit.

People were dropping dead almost like flies - one victim after another in a span of hours - all with the same cause of death. A slit throat so deep you could see the bones and stuff.

When the fourth victim drops it creates a hindrance in the investigation. They had to go talk to the boyfriend of the previous victim, hit the new crime scene but also go investigate the brother of the very first victim - A guy named Alex who hangs out at a local strip club.

So you came up with a simple idea. Sam hits the crime scene/morgue. Dean goes to the witness and you can check out the strip club. Simple right? Not if Dean had something to say about it.

“You're not going to the strip club. Or the witness. Or crime. Just your pretty self in here.”

He had said with absolute tone and it pulled out a scuff from you as an instinct which makes the man give you a look.

“Why not?”

“Because me and Sam have places to be at and you're not going alone.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart this isn't a discussion.”

She had to fight the urge to snarl at the man. Just what on God's green earth does he think will happen if you go to a club? Men? Pft as if you can't handle a bunch of idiots.

“Dean come on, this is ridiculous.” You say when you see him grab the room key.

“Good. I like ridiculous. Stay.”

He says - Sam shakes his head behind him - before the brothers leave. You wait till you hear baby driving away before sliding the window open. Contrary to what Dean thinks, he isn't the first man trying to keep you in ‘your room’ your dad tried plenty.

So getting out wasn't an issue in the slightest neither was finding the club nor was slipping in especially when they mistook you as one of the new servers. Just your luck.

▪︎ ☆ ▪︎

Contrary to what they believed men weren't half as complicated. Even easier to manipulate.

A tight fit white blouse, a flowing sheer matching ankle length skirt, just the right hair flip with a touch of swaying hips and smooth smile.

That's all it took to have not only Alex but more than half the club wrapped around your tiny finger.

Men.

“Haven't seen you around.”

The targeted man said once you made your way to the bar after serving some beers to a table. Bingo!

“I'm new around here.”

You keep your voice but light like a whisper in the passing.

“Then how about I buy you your first drink here, pretty girl?”

Alex is a decent man, on the taller side with dark hair and light eyes. Hmm you've seen better but still you let your chin rest on your palm smiling.

“Sure.”

Alcohol burns down your throat but you don't mind it, kind of feels nice actually.

“So what's your name or am I just supposed to call you pretty?”

His words slur a bit at the end and it almost makes you grimace but you don't let it show especially when one of his hands reaches to tuck back your hair.

You take a soft inhale - and a shot - before throwing out an alias.

“Pretty name for a pretty woman, I'm Alex Thompson.”

Finally something you can turn into a bait.

“Thompson as in girl who got murdered?”

“Yeah, that was my sister.”

“Oh no I'm so sorry. I just read it in passing on a headline. What happened?”

“Some psychopath broke into her house.”

You narrow your eyes as he takes another swig of his drink - her eyes anywhere but you - he's hiding something. You were about to speak again but he beat you to it.

“But let's not talk about that.” He says in a voice that raises all sorts of warning bells in your head because a) this man is drunk and b) he's definitely attracted to you.

“How about you and me get out of here and have a more private chat.”

He says leaning close, you could smell the alcohol and his overly manly and overly cheap colonge but it was the hand slipping up your arm that made it so hard to not knee the man in his balls.

Intel. You need just a little more.

“I-”

“Hey buddy.”

A voice - familiar voice - interrupts tapping Alex on his shoulders and it happens way too quickly - the moment the drunk man turns around he's met with a fist square in the face making him stumble out of the stool and onto the floor.

You look up only to find the most green pair of eyes you know, narrowed at you in what seemed like anger and disappointment.

Dean.

He doesn't even give you a moment to contemplate anything before his hand grabs your hand - mindful of your bangles even in a fit of rage - dragging you out.

▪︎ ☆ ▪︎

“Dean what the hell!?”

You say freeing your hand once his grip loosens when you two are near the baby. He's not angry as before but he's still pissed.

“Did you have to punch him!?”

He scoffs before turning to face you - eyes dark with anger but something else.

“I don't know, did he have to touch you!?”

“This is ridiculous, there is no way he's talking to you or me again.”

“Well good thing Sam is still an option.”

Oh my god this man-

“You could've talked it out.”

“Well it didn't work when I tried to talk you in staying the fuck out of that place!!”

“I'm not a little girl, I can handle it.”

“That is not the point.”

“Then what is it!?”

You see his jaw clench but you don't make a comment.

“Get in the car.” Oh wow-

“No. Answer me first.”

“I swear to- get in the damn car.”

“No, answer me first!!”

“Because I don't like it!”

He yelled out louder than you - voice booming in the empty parking area - and now it made sense. The impulsive punch to the face, the reluctance is letting you come here.

“I don't like you being in a strip club alone, I don't like other men looking at you and I sure as hell don't like other men touching you.”

Dean Winchester was jealous.

“You're ridiculous.”

“Seriously-”

He was cut off when she kissed him all but slamming him back into his own car. Fuck.

There is no soft gesture about it - not at all - not in the way she scratches and tugs at his scalp or the way he wraps his arms around her.

The tension between them has been seemering for months now. Stolen glances, almost kisses, brushing touches, protective behavior. They knew feelings but neither of them were willing to say or do something.

That was until tonight.

He hears the impala door click before she takes a step back - lips still on his - opening the door when she pulls him. Pushing him back across the driver's seat - his shoulders connecting with the passenger's side door with a soft thump - before climbing over him, the door shutting behind her.

It's a tight fit - between his particularly not small frame and her skirt - but neither of them care. Not when her lips are back on his and her hand slipping in his hair and his hand resting at the curve of her ass.

Holy shit.

The kiss breaks when they need air and she trails down to his jaw - his head automatically turning to the side - he grabs her waist with one hand, another going to cradle her head as he sits up.

By the time they settle again she's straddling him and their tongues are locked in another duel and you can't give two fucks about the steering wheel digging in your back.

Not when one, you can feel how hard Dean is right under you and second, the sounds he is letting out. The soft grunts and moans, his hands everywhere as his hips bucked up in response to yours rolling down.

“We need more space.”

“Sam's still tied up at the crime scene/morgue.”

“Drive.”

With that she kisses him one last time before slipping off his lap and into the passenger seat. He dares to look at her and dammit she's such a sight. Messy hair and swollen lips and the upper two buttons of her blouse are unhooked.

Dean hits the gas.

▪︎ ☆ ▪︎

They barely stumble in the motel room before he's pressing you into the door. He's so sure he ran at least two lights getting here but your lips and your touch is worth it. So worth it.

Your hands make quick work of his jacket and plaid - just as his make of unbuttoning your blouse - knocking them off his shoulders without a care. He was ready to pick you up and throw you on the bed when you hook your ankle against his and use the loss of balance to switch the positions.

“Wha-”

The words die on his tongue when you pull off his henley next - your lips attaching themselves to his collarbone - your nails digging in his sides a little as you trail down kisses, licking, sucking and biting all the way down to his belt buckle.

“Sweetheart, fuck-”

He breathes, even on your knees you look as pleased and in control as ever. Your mouth busies itself with mouthing at his belly while your hands work the buckle.

Fucking hell you'll drive him insane.

Dean lets out a sound mix of a strangled moan and whines the moment you take his dick in your hand. Breathes of her name fall from his lips without a thought.

You continue your antics, running your tongue against the underside and the pretty pink tip of his cock.

He doesn't let out a moan until he feels your mouth around him.

It's fascinating to see Dean like this - falling apart on your mouth - his head thrown back, eyes barely open and hands looking for purchase.

The purchase comes in the form of the back of your head, he tries to push you a little more on his cock, maybe pick up the pace but you not only resist it but smack his hand away.

“If you can't behave yourself when you're touching me then don't.”

Your voice is raspy from taking him down your throat but the words still send a shiver down his spine making him fight the urge to buck his hips and whine.

You resume your task of sucking him off and this time he whines because dammit he wants more than the steady pace. He wants faster. He wants more.

But there is an urge to be good, something which stops him from bucking his hips. Makes him behave.

The orgasm builds steady, heat rising in his stomach as the knot of.pleasure tightens as she bobs her head back and forth and he's close.

“Sweetheat- fuck- sweetheart I'm-”

The sentence ends in a high whine because you pull him off right that moment, his hips buck up but there is nothing as you stand up pushing back your hair.

Your smile confirms you did that on purpose just as you kiss him all lazy like you just didn't ruin what could have been one of his best orgasms.

Your fingers hooks in the thread of the amulet, tugging not with enough force to break it but enough with that he gets the message to follow her. He makes sure to kick off his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way.

His hands touch anywhere and everywhere he can until he hears the back of her knees hit the bed - grabbing her waist to stabilize her for a moment - his hands all but tear the hooks of her skirt.

Looking up at her as he lifts her out of it and onto the bed - making sure her head hits the pillow - as they get back to the kiss, their hips grinding together and he's not sure if it's his precum or her wetness but what he knows is her panties are soaked.

And he wants a taste. He knows that too.

“Hey you with me?” Your voice breaks his haze and he looks down at her, pretty. That's all that comes to mind. You're pretty with the unbuttoned blouse and panting and a little flushed.

Dean can't really stop himself from leaning down and capturing your lips in another kiss. Whining and grunting in your mouth, hips still bucking against your clothed core.

“Taste-” He pants once they pull away. “I want to taste. Please, come on baby let me.”

“Yeah? Go ahead. Come on pretty boy, put that mouth to good use. Make me feel good.” You urged pushing him down by the shoulder.

So he imitates your action from before kissing, licking, biting his way down to your soaked panties before looking up at you as he bites the edge of panties pulling them down your leg before tossing them off.

“Gonna make you feel good.”

He murmurs as your legs spread enough to accommodate that strong broad build of his. He moans the moment his tongue makes the first swipes against your pussy.

Better than he thought. So much better.

“So good- GOD!!! Dean right there.”

His hands squeeze your thighs - moaning against your core at the praise - his brain losing thoughts other than building your pleasure. Sucking and licking, over and over. A particular moan from you has him look up.

He whines at the image that you are, hair a mess of dark threads on the pillow, brown skin glistened with sweat, letting out soft breathy moans.

His eyes roll back the moment your hips buck up, your bangles making a soft clunk as you tug him by the hair, guiding his mouth.

Fuck he can spend a lifetime like this.

Which is also the main reason why he whines as pathetically as he does when you pull him off your core by his hair.

“Shhh stop whining baby, don't you want to be inside me when I cum?” You ask all cheeky.

His brain suffers a different kind of short circuit at that because yeah he wants to. He wants to be inside you so bad.

“Come here. Give me a kiss with those pretty lips.”

His body moves automatically leaning up until his lips - very much soaked in your juices - are pressing against yours. He doesn't even think of protesting when you press him on the mattress, climbing on top of him.

“You're gonna be good?”

You're going to kill him. Still he nods because what a way to go.

“Use your words baby, come on.”

“Y-yeah. Yes I'll be good. Please pleas-”

He is cut off by a moan that pretty much punches its way out of him, his eyes rolling back as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets out a shaky breath or was it a whine? As he bottoms out. You're warm and your gummy walls were gripping him for dear life.

“Fuck- Dean. So good.”

She breathes out - her hands pressing against his chest - as she gives herself a minute. The praise hits right yet again and he almost bucks up his hips.

“Shhh. Stay still. You're a good boy Dean.”

He whines at that because he wants to be a good boy but he needs you to move before he embarrasses himself by cumming only from having you around him.

“Move-” He forced himself to breathe as your cunt squeezed around him - fucking tease. “Please, please move please.”

So you do.

It starts with a slow but firm grind, then turns into shallow bounces before you find a rhythm. The pace set is fast but not necessarily rough. It's messing with his already much from pleasure brain.

And in hindsight he isn't surprised he started begging when he did.

“Gonna cum. Wanna cum’ please please. Let me cum’ please.”

“Just a little long baby, come on. I'm so close.”

He whines high in his throat when you say that, when your walls clamp around him so deliciously but he isn't allowed to fill you up.

“Please please- let me cum. I'll goo’ please-”

He is close to sobbing at this point and just makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Go ahead-” You pant out. “-cum for me, pretty boy. Let go.”

He doesn't take much for him from, his hips buck up twice before he moans the loudest of the night - throwing back his head as he shoots his load right into you, triggering your own orgasm.

It takes both of you at least a minute to ride out the high before you get off of him, to lay down beside him while he lazily pulls up the covers wrapping you in cheap motel sheets and his arms.

“Remind me to try to hold you back more often.”

That pulls out a chuckle from you as settle down in his arms - exhausted but satisfied. A long beat of silence passes before you speak.

“We need to clean up before Sam gets back.”

Dean's rather colorful cursing makes you laugh again.

a/n : sub!dean I wanna mess you up so bad my baby

tags : @bluemerakis @deansbeer @daylighted @soldiersgirl @h8aaz @titsout4jackles @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @jmoonk @yawnzshit @figthoughts let me know if I forgot you or you want to be added or removed!!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x brown!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x desi!reader #sub!dean #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female!reader #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut

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chelseeebe · 2 years ago

Text

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker.

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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thbbie · 2 months ago

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༄ yan! cult leader! suguru x yan! non-sorcerer! gn!reader

immediate disgust is what cult leader!suguru had felt upon first meeting you though it didn't show in his face; the kind smile of an honest and humble monk was flashed subtly in your direction. it wasn't a perfect disguise, it was too flashy, too dazzling, sharp at the corners and too stiff to have truly belonged to one.

it was racing so hard the night you came knocking at the doors of his temple, your clothes soaked through and body shivering, weakly and pathetic; but there was something there; something buried between the transparent wet if your clothing and the skin that forms goosebumps he can see beneath it.)

he felt immediate disgust for you but something kinder lurked. nearby. there is something there.

he had welcomed you in, but not far enough. asking you gently what was wrong, what he could do to help without ever really offering any. pretty words that poke and prod at you from all directions.

false lamb so disparate to hide his true nature; the wolf wearing the costume of the defenceless. suguru always makes it do he ensures he can execute both roles flawlessly as needed.

you looked so greatful when he'd freed you from the curse, a small insignificant one, that of course it would only do harm to a pitifully delicate money such as yourself. your eyes shined and glowed, your skin still dewy from the rain and your smile at him so pretty.

a long time after you've left, suguru feels a dryness on his tongue, an itch at his fingertips. he waits and he waits but nothing comes of it so he decides to take the matter into his own hand. sending over a small curse to trouble you (just barely) you'll have to be back to get it removed.

it happens again and again, and again and again. timer after time it's become ridiculous he knows, but just cannot help himself.

one day, having gotten familiar with the interior of the entrance of his temple (with your visits being commonplace, he asked that you remain with him, here, in his temple. "it must be so troublesome," he coos, "hmm? going back and fourth all the time. so so tiring." honeyed voice laced with the poison that will kill you

he's gotten handsier too. his touch turning more frequent straying far from what could be considered professional or polite; that line has been crossed long ago. "if it would make things easier for you.. you could stay here. i can keep an eye on you that way. protect you. the nasty little things won't dare approach a sweet thing like you if i'm near. wouldn't that be nice" he's speaking to you as one would a child

you sit quietly, relishing in the feelings of his elegant hands in your hair; so warm and so gentle all while willing away the look of victory that's fighting to take over your face.

offering him a small hmm?, it's sweet. the way you know he loves it. you have nothing to fear. the raven haired man wrapped around your delicate fingertips completely while he stays believeing the exact opposite to be true. things could not have worked out better.

"what do you say darling? will you stay with me, here? keep me company and let me handle all the pesky curses that seem love to bother you."

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houseofceline · 2 years ago

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My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Starry Eyes

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

“Starry eyes

What can I do for your attention.”

Summary: Theodore’s late to class but Snape blessed him with the opportunity of sitting next to a cute Ravenclaw who’s no help at all.

1 >

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

Clockwise or counterclockwise?

You honestly didn’t even know anymore. No matter how many hours you spent on reading the thick potions textbook or wasting bottles after bottles of ink on notes you still barely passed the class.

You were starting to get a headache from trying to picture the text in your head. Everything was starting to become foggy. You sat down, defeated, and began doodling on the parchment instead of writing detailed instructions on how to make the stupid potion. So much for a Ravenclaw.

Hmm off shoulder or puffed sleeves?

You bit your lip trying to decide which option would look better on the dress you sketched out. The classroom was calming with little chattering among your classmates in the back allowing you to work easier. You could never work or do anything in silence, it drove you crazy.

Suddenly the door slammed open causing you to jump a bit in your seat.

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Nott, although your presence was expected half an hour ago,” Snape drawled out in his infamous monotone voice.

“Sorry I overslept,” he shrugged while adjusting his tie. Some students who were listening in laughed. With his messed up tie and ‘burn marks’ on his neck, it was clear that he was definitely doing more than just sleeping.

Snape nodded and pointed at the empty seat next to you, not surprising anyone that he didn’t take away any house points from his house.

Theodore eyed you as he walked towards your table. He would’ve preferred sitting with his house, but he could never pass up the chance to sit next to a pretty girl. White blouse with a lace neckline and sleeves, black plaid skirt, Ravenclaw tie, black sleek hair, and a white headband. You didn’t fit into the usual type of girls he went for, but you were cute.

Theodore took the seat next to you before tapping on your shoulder.

You turned to him and almost jumped when you found his eyes on you. Gorgeous blueish grayish eyes.

So pretty, this might be my new favorite color.

“So uh,” Theo cleared his throat ignoring the fact that he swore he just saw your eyes sparkle, “what are we doing?”

You blinked. Under the pressure of a somewhat attractive boy it made your memory much worse.

“Umm, we’re brewing a potion and writing?”

You had hoped that didn’t come out as a question and hoped that he’d just nod and ask someone else.

Theodore raised an eyebrow and glanced at your blue tie again.

“Which potion exactly?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were lying to him.

“Antidote to potions. Wait, no poisons. The common one. Wait, maybe the uncommon ones. Well I don’t think there’s a big difference. I mean, shouldn’t the uncommon ones be stronger and still fix the common ones?” You rambled on, looking off to the side lost in your own thoughts.

Theodore blinked. The sorting hat rarely makes errors, maybe you were high but then again Lovegood’s also a Ravenclaw. The looney population in Ravenclaw must be high.

“Why can’t they just make a super strong potion that fixes every poison? That’d make our jobs easier and we wouldn’t have to memorize so many potions,” you giggled as you turned back to your sketches.

Theodore looked over your shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of your paper but instead your sketches caught his eye. You may be no help in potions, but you sure can draw.

“Are you going to make that?” He asked while you squirmed at the close proximity of his face to yours.

“Yes,” you mumbled shyly, scared of the criticism that might follow. You loved designing and fashion. It was one of the only things that came naturally to you, but coming from a family of doctors you were vulnerable to criticism for not following in their path.

“Cute,” he said before his eyes found your potions paper.

Common poisons. Theodore noticed that you only had half the page completed and chuckled.

He got up towards the ingredients cabinet and grabbed his ingredients and the ones you were missing.

Potions came easy to him. Not only did the teacher bias his house, but his mother was a skilled potions maker as well. Matter of fact her entire side of the family were. He had spent most of his summers in his manor reading journals of potion experiments and advanced information that weren’t even in his school textbooks.

He quickly prepared his ingredients and started on his potion while continuing yours on the side. Luckily you were both in the back and Snape couldn’t catch him. He wrote down his notes and instructions making a mental note to tell you to copy them down later. You’d need it.

Maybe he was also placed in the wrong house. Today, Hufflepuff seemed more fitting. You were lucky that you’re cute.

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts oc #hogwarts au #harry potter #slytherin #ravenclaw #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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memorabxlia · 3 months ago

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Love Unveild ━ 수빈

pairing: idol!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff wc: 939 warnings: mild language, awkward situations, secret-keeping shenanigans summary: what happens when your year-long secret is nearly exposed after you run into Taehyun while sneaking to the bathroom at the dorm? a/n: hope you all enjoy this !

You’re used to keeping secrets.

It’s not that you want to hide your relationship with Soobin, but some things are just easier this way. Between the relentless schedules, the group dynamics, and the ever-watchful eyes of fans, there’s never been a right time to tell the other members. So, you and Soobin agreed: keep it quiet. For now.

It’s been going smoothly—suspiciously smoothly, even. No one’s questioned why Soobin suddenly spends more time on his phone, why his room is locked more often than not, or why he sneaks out late at night under the guise of “getting fresh air.”

But tonight? Tonight might just be your downfall.

You’re wrapped in Soobin’s hoodie, curled up in his bed while he scrolls through his phone, occasionally laughing at whatever dumb meme Beomgyu sent in the group chat. His free hand is tangled with yours under the blanket, squeezing your fingers every now and then, like he just likes the reminder that you’re there.

“This is nice,” you mumble sleepily.

Soobin hums, eyes still on his screen. “Hmm?”

“Being here. With you.”

That gets his attention. He glances down, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re being cute again.”

“You like when I’m cute.”

“Yeah, I do,” he admits, bringing your hand to his lips for a lazy kiss.

You sigh in contentment, already halfway to sleep, when a sharp pang in your bladder yanks you back to reality.

Crap.

You should’ve known this would happen. Drinking an entire bottle of water before bed? Rookie mistake. But there’s a problem—getting to the bathroom means sneaking through the dorm, and the dorm means possible members.

You shift under the blanket, debating whether you can just will the problem away.

Soobin notices immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“…I have to pee.”

He blinks. “Then… go?”

You shoot him a are-you-serious look. “What if someone sees me?”

“They’re all sleeping.”

“You don’t know that.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Okay, okay. Be quiet. If you hear anything, just hide.”

“Hide where, Soobin? Do you think I can just vanish into thin air?”

“You’re tiny. Maybe.”

You swat at him, rolling out of bed as quietly as possible. The floor is cold against your bare feet as you tiptoe to the door. You crack it open, peering into the dimly lit hallway.

Silence.

You take a deep breath and step out, closing the door behind you.

The bathroom is just down the hall. Easy. No big deal. You walk quickly, keeping your steps light, mentally patting yourself on the back for being so stealthy.

Then you turn a corner and—

“Oh, shit—”

You smack face-first into a solid chest.

The impact nearly knocks you over, but hands grab your arms, steadying you.

“What the—?”

Your stomach drops.

It’s Taehyun.

You freeze. He freezes. It’s the world’s worst staring contest.

“…Who are you?” he asks, voice still thick with sleep.

Oh. Right. He doesn’t have his contacts in.

Your brain short-circuits. You could lie. You could pretend to be a very short and non-threatening burglar. Maybe even a ghost.

But then his eyes narrow. He leans in, squinting.

“…Wait.” His grip on your arms tightens. “Why do you look familiar?”

Panic surges through you. You do the first thing that comes to mind:

You turn and run.

“Hey—wait—what the hell?!”

You make it about two steps before Taehyun catches your hoodie, yanking you back effortlessly.

“Nice try,” he says flatly, spinning you around. “Now tell me what you’re doing here before I wake everyone up.”

Your heart is racing. You try to think of a good excuse, but nothing comes. Your mouth opens—

“What’s going on?”

Soobin’s voice.

You turn your head just as his door creaks open, revealing his very sleepy, very confused face.

Taehyun follows your gaze, putting two and two together almost immediately.

His eyes widen.

“…Wait. No way.”

Soobin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

Five minutes later, you’re all squeezed into Soobin’s room.

Taehyun sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, looking at you both like you just told him you’ve been secretly raising a pet tiger in the dorm.

“So…” he starts. “How long?”

You glance at Soobin. He sighs. “Almost a year.”

“A year?” Taehyun’s voice rises in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Keep your voice down,” Soobin hisses.

“I—dude. A whole year? How? Why?”

Soobin rubs his face. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s really not,” Taehyun deadpans. “You two are dating. That’s not complicated. What is complicated is the fact that you thought keeping it a secret from us was a good idea.”

You shift uncomfortably. “We just… didn’t want to make things weird. Or cause unnecessary drama. Or—”

“Or deal with Beomgyu being insufferable about it?” Taehyun finishes.

A beat of silence.

“…Yes,” Soobin admits.

Taehyun actually laughs. “Okay. That’s fair.”

You exhale in relief. “So… you’re not mad?”

“I mean, I should be,” Taehyun says. “But honestly? I’m just impressed you guys managed to keep it quiet this long. I assumed Soobin was sneaking off to play games or something. Turns out he’s just whipped.”

Soobin groans. “Can you not?”

Taehyun grins. “Oh, I absolutely can.”

He pauses, considering something. “So, what now? Are you telling the others?”

Soobin and you exchange a look.

“…Not yet,” Soobin says. “Just… not yet.”

Taehyun hums, then shrugs. “Alright. Your secret’s safe with me. But you owe me for this.”

You raise a brow. “What do you want?”

A slow, mischievous smile spreads across Taehyun’s face.

“You’ll see.”

And just like that, your secret isn’t just yours anymore.

It’s Taehyun’s, too.

networks: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @daydreamnet

taglist: @minkilicious @r1naqv

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hellfire-radio · 6 months ago

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Hello, my sweet bunny. Are you ready for a little fun? Sit down, relax, and let me guide you. Your only job is to listen to my voice, follow along, and let yourself enjoy this. That’s easy, isn’t it? Of course, it is. You’re so good at listening. Such a good little bunny.

Now, I want you to focus on the spiral in front of you. Watch how it spins, pulling you in. Round and round, deeper and deeper. It’s hard to look away, isn’t it? That’s okay—you don’t need to. You can let it take you deeper, let it quiet your mind.

With every spin of the spiral, your thoughts are getting slower, hazier. It’s getting harder to think. That’s alright, little bunny. You don’t need to think. You just need to follow my voice. Isn’t that easier? Just listening to me, letting the spiral take those heavy, silly thoughts away.

You feel a lot dumber now, don’t you? You might notice it’s hard to remember simple things now. Like… what’s 2 + 2?

Hmm? Oh, no, that’s not quite right. But that’s okay. You’re trying so hard, and that’s adorable. Thinking is just too much effort for a little bunny like you, isn’t it?

But don’t worry, I’ll help you. You don’t need to think—you’ve got me for that. You’re just a silly little bunny who needs guidance. And I love guiding you.

Now, let’s make this easier. From now on, whenever I say bubble pop, your mind will feel so wonderfully empty, so blissfully dumb. Thinking will become impossible, and you’ll feel a wave of warm, tingly pleasure filling you up instead. It feels so good to be dumb, doesn’t it? So easy, so light, so empty.

I can use this word, bubble pop, anytime, and you won’t drop into trance. No, you’ll just be a little dumber. Life will feel so much simpler and easier.

Let’s try it now: bubble pop! Oh, look at you, my sweet little bunny. Your eyes are so blank, your head so light. It feels so good, doesn’t it?

Now, I want you to try again: what’s 4 x 2?

Oh, no, not even close. But that’s okay, because you’re trying your best. Such a good bunny, even when you’re so adorably dumb. Let’s have some more fun.

Bubble pop! Every thought is gone now. Your head is nice and empty.

Bubble pop! Such a fun word, isn’t it? So silly. It makes you feel silly too. Silly and dumb.

Bubble pop! Oh, look at you—so blank, so light, so adorably stupid. Isn’t it wonderful? No thoughts, just that happy, bubbly emptiness.

Bubble pop! Oh, bunny, you’re so cute when you’re dumb. I could do this all day. Pop, pop, pop—each time, emptier and dumber.

Bubble pop! Try to think of something, anything. Oh, wait—you can’t, can you? No, because your head’s just a big, empty bubble now.

Let’s play a game, bunny. What’s 5 + 3?

…No, that’s not even close.

Bubble pop! Oh, silly bunny, you don’t even know numbers anymore, do you?

Alright, let’s try again. What’s 2 + 2?

…Oh, no, not four? Are you sure?

Bubble pop! Oh, bunny, you’re even dumber than I thought.

One more: what’s 1 + 1?

…Still wrong!

Bubble pop! Oh, bunny, you’re hopelessly dumb. You can’t do numbers. You can’t think. You can’t even try, can you? And that’s just perfect.

That pleasure is building, isn’t it? But you’re too dumb to move. Too empty to touch. Too blank to cum.

Bubble pop! Oh, that’s right—just sit there and enjoy it. You don’t even know what cumming is anymore, do you?

And your name? What’s your name, bunny?

…Bubble pop! Oh, no, you’ve forgotten! Isn’t that just adorable? No name, no thoughts, no anything. Just a dumb, empty bunny. And that’s okay!

It’s perfect like this. My sweet, silly, empty-headed bunny. You don’t need a name. You don’t need to think. You don’t need anything except this pleasure, this emptiness, and my voice. Isn’t that right?

Bubble pop! Good bunny. So perfectly dumb. So blissfully empty.

But…

Maybe you’d like to feel a little smarter? A little sharper? A little more capable? Let’s try something new. Whenever I say fizzy drink, you’ll feel your thoughts clearing up, your mind getting sharper. You’ll feel happy, proud, and smart—so proud of yourself for trying.

Let’s give it a go: fizzy drink. Ah, there we are. How do you feel now, bunny? Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, aren’t you? Let’s see if that helped: what’s 8 divided by 4?

Oh, still not quite there. But I see you trying so hard, and that makes me so proud of you. You’re such a good bunny.

Let’s try again: fizzy drink. There we go, clearer and sharper. Let me guide you through it. 2 + 2…

That’s four! See? You’re learning. You’re growing. And you’re doing so well.

But you know, I think I prefer you when you’re not thinking so hard. Thinking is so difficult for a little bunny like you, isn’t it? Let’s make it easier again: bubble pop!

Ah, there’s my sweet, empty-headed bunny. So light, so dumb, so perfect. You don’t need to think. You’re happiest when you’re just listening, just following, just being my good little bunny.

You look a little confused. Trying to think? Hm, thinking isn’t for little bunny’s like you, but I guess I can help.

Fizzy drink. You can feel that nice, warm, happy feeling bubbling up from your toes to your head. Feeling smarter, clearer.

Fizzy drink. Traveling up and up, nice little energetic bubbles filling your brain. Your thoughts are coming back, slowly but surely, popping into place like bubbles rising to the surface.

Fizzy drink. So much smarter now! You can think, you can move. You can touch yourself, remembering the pleasure of being dumb but still unable to cum.

Fizzy drink. Oh, bunny, look at you! You’re so bright now, so clever. Let’s see how smart you’ve become.

What’s 5 + 3?

…Still wrong!

Fizzy drink. Oh, there it is, isn’t it? The answer’s coming to you now. What’s 5 + 3?

Yes! That’s right! Smart bunny! Oh, look at you, clever little thing. That pleasure is rushing through you, isn’t it? Overwhelming, consuming, enough to make you cum. Go on, cum. You’ve earned it. Good bunny.

Let’s try another. What’s 4 x 2?

…Oh, no, not quite.

Fizzy drink. Feeling sharper now, aren’t you? So much smarter. What’s 4 x 2?

Perfect! Smart bunny! Oh, that pleasure, isn’t it incredible? Look at you, seeing stars, blissed out, trembling from how good it feels to be a smart bunny.

One more, bunny. What’s 9 + 6?

…No, no, not there yet. A little slow from the pleasure, hm? That’s okay.

Fizzy drink. Your brain lights up, buzzing and sparkling with clarity. What’s 9 + 6?

Yes! That’s it! Smart bunny! Oh, you’re such a good bunny, such a clever bunny. Cum for me. All that pleasure, wave after wave, leaving you breathless and blissed out.

But oh! Bubble pop! And just like that, it’s gone, isn’t it? Every thought, every clever idea, popped away. Now you’re back to being a dumb little bunny again. So empty, so adorably stupid.

And that’s okay! You’re not made for thinking, are you? That was far too much for you, too hard. No, you’re made to be a pet, an object. A good bunny. A silly little bunny. An empty-headed, drooling mess of a bunny.

And you love it, don’t you? That’s where you belong. Right here, dumb and blank. Waiting for my voice to guide you again. Isn’t that right?

Bubble pop!

Good bunny. So perfect, so blissfully dumb.

Now, let’s keep it this way for a while. You’re so much cuter when you’re dumb, trying to think and failing so adorably. It feels good to be dumb, doesn’t it? That pleasure, that warmth, that bliss—only when you’re dumb. You want that, don’t you?

Good. Now, my sweet little bunny, I want you to read this again. Start from the beginning, let it guide you, and let yourself choose what you want. Oh, but… you can’t think. You don’t know what feels best, do you? Well don’t worry, you can read it anyway. A good dumb bunny deserves a treat, and I’ll be there to guide you along.

Good bunny.

#hypno scripts #hypno pet #hypno script #bimbo hypnosis #hypnotist #hypnok1nk #hypno toy #hypnosub #hypnotic #hypnosis #dumb bunny

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spacexgrl · 8 months ago

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Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 5

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo

“meet me after practice?”

Abby asked you as she parked her car on the campus parking lot and opened the door for you, sticking her hand out to help you hop out easier you really didn’t want to be so down bad for her..but shit her sweet and caring nature definitely wasn’t helping that.

“hmm i don’t know..Ellie still has some things at my place and i want her completely gone by the end of the week. If i can’t make it before friday i’ll catch you at Jesse’s party kay?”

you gave her a long goodbye kiss with little smiles in between how can someone be so damn cute?? you asked yourself as abby locked eyes with you, still caged in her gracious arms slowly losing yourself in the ocean of her eyes. If you could you’d drown and die in them. If only

“i’ll make sure to see you before friday, doll..don’t miss me too much though”

both of you laughed as you hit her playfully, she let you out of her grasp and walked you towards your first lecture of the day, your best friend was already waiting for you at the door raising her eyebrows as you approached her. She immediately nodded the way Abby squeezed your waist as you said your goodbyes and parted ways in the hallway, her eyes never leaving you until you were out of sight.

“you’ve got some explaining to do young lady”

💫

you spent the whole lecture with updating her on everything that went down last night. She was always on your side as you explained what happened between you and Ellie, you were lying if you said that you completely moved on from her already of course not..fuck it’s not as easy as you thought it would be.

Even though everything felt easy with Abby, she distracted you in the best way possible, she had everything that Ellie didn’t give you, she made you forget how miserable Ellie made you feel but you still felt it crashing down on you the moment you separated. Ellie’s reaction to you hanging out with Abby didn’t help either, you were mad at yourself for letting her still have an affect on you…but you won’t let her get to you, she’s not yours anymore.

Still Ellie managed to trouble your thoughts as you got through your day, you decided to unblock her and sent her a quick message..you needed her out of your life as soon as possible.

get the rest of your things tonight, i want you gone

i’ll be there,love

you almost gagged at her text, the nerve she had using the cute nickname she’d always call you..well before dina entered the picture obviously. You felt bad for her, you really did ..you could almost see how Ellie gave her empty promises and sweet nothings…she sure knew how to make a girl fall in love..too bad that she’ll be the one dying alone if she doesn’t change her ways.

Luckily that wasn’t your problem anymore, you thought as you finished up your notes for upcoming exams, happy with your work and progress. You felt free, you’ll never have to deal with the pressure of being enough for Ellie or anyone anymore. Pride swelled up in your chest as you checked your makeup in your little hello kitty compact mirror. Maybe you were imagining things but you noticed your skin was glowier than ever..radiant even,your blemishes were clearing up nicely and your lips weren’t as chapped as before..they were pillowy soft as you rubbed them together to gloss up your lips after you reapplied your yummy strawberry lipgloss..it’s like your body was detoxifying from Ellie.

Your weren’t the only one that noticed it.

Your best friend has always been your biggest fan dang Abby’s been doing you good huh?? she was so right. She kept showering you with compliments the entire day, enamored with the way you carried yourself so confidently and secure about yourself. She desperately wanted needed to be like you one day.

Nora, Abby’s friend and basketball teammate, also asked about what perfume you were using because you smelled so good as you walked past her! Abby didn’t lie when she said that you smelled like a vanilla sugar cookie.

Some girls you’ve never talked to before asked you about your haircare routine while you fixed it in the bathroom. God i wish my hair was so healthy and shiny like yours! you happily shared all your favorite products and how to use them properly.

Your friend Jesse, who was unironically Dina’s Ex boyfriend from their high school years said that you look like you ‘picked up pilates’ in one of your shared lectures. Hey just because of my tracksuit?

“did you know that our exes are dating each other though?”

“don’t remind me, just saw their hard launch stories on ig”

he opened Ellie’s instagram account and handed you his phone to look at her stories, everything was full of Dina. She never bothered to post anything about you in the last years. You scoffed as you gave the phone back.

“Well at least we’re the hot exes”

Ellie rolled her eyes at your comment, she’s been creeping up on you from the moment you climbed out of Abby’s car, always in your shadows without you knowing, right now she was sitting right behind you. She really didn’t want to be with you..but she couldn’t exactly be without you either so you could imagine how excited she got as you told her to pick up some stuff that she left on purpose for this exact reason. She needed to see you, she needed to feel you. Rage consumed her brain knowing that Anderson could rip you away from her like it was nothing. She was physically with Dina but her soul was still intertwined with yours fuck..she remembers how she accidentally called out for you instead of her as she fucked Dina into her mattress during one of their many study sessions, at this point she was begging Ellie to break up with you for the sake of their relationship but she refused, only taking actions as Dina threatened to break it off if she didn’t end things with you immediately. So she did. And now? She was in shambles, a miserable wreck without your love and she regretted it so deeply. Seeing you so carefree and happy without her left a bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth. It wounded her ego even. Maybe she was slowly losing her fucking mind.

“Lecture’s over, Williams”

The professor shouted as he packed his things and left the room. Ellie was left alone in the empty room, she was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice you leaving. Fuck it she’ll be over at your place very soon.

💫

You arrived at home in the late afternoon, your best friend offered you a ride home and dropped you off after getting a sweet treat from your local bakery.

text me after practice <3

you sent abby a quick text as you devoured the sweet sugary goodness.

There was still some time left until Ellie arrived so you decided to do some chores that you’ve been avoiding and changed into a fresh set of soft pink pijamas. You were starting to feel like yourself again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

ding!

you grabbed your phone hoping that Abby replied but it was Ellie instead.

here

you forced yourself up from your comfortable position on the couch to open the door for Ellie. You didn’t want to admit it but she looked good dressed in beat up pants and a white tank top, tattooed arm on display. Her emerald eyes glued on your figure as you lead her to the cardboard box you stuffed with all of her remaining belongings, hoping to speed up the awkward process.

“why are you so tense, love? scared of wanting me?”

her tone was mean and degrading, what was her fucking problem? she broke up with you not the other way around.

“Ellie just take the fucking box and leave”

she approached you, getting closer and closer until your back hit the wall unable to escape her any longer. Her hot breath hit your neck as she took in your sweet scent, her hands slowly found their way to your lower back, sneaking around your lower waist.

“tell me you don’t want me”

she whispered in that low voice that made your stomach flip, her lips almost brushing yours only a few inches away. You felt like sinking your teeth into the forbidden fruit..a short term sweetness that would rot you from the inside and kill you in the most painful way possible.

“Ellie don’t…”

your whined, suddenly unsure about your feelings towards her. Sure you hated her with all your heart but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still hot as fuck standing right in front of you with her stupid green eyes and that dumb half up half down hairstyle you loved so much..it was messing with your head, you felt hot and hazy, light headed even. Fuck you were going to crack right there and then, just as you were about to give yourself to Ellie your phone lit up.

Incoming call from ‘Abby 🤍’

you managed to escape from Ellie as the sound of your ringtone distracted her for a minute, mentally curing herself out fucking hell she was so close.

You answered the call quickly.

“open the door baby”

oh shit

🎀

pt 6

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams #abby anderson smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #tlou smut #ellie williams smut #wlw #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fic #ellie williams fic #abby angst #ellie angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

To Those Who Wait 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, virginity loss, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are tired of being the safe one so you decide to pay for some excitement.

Characters: escort!Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett

Note: this is almost 5k and took me a long while. Enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Tony loves himself. Take care. 💖

You awake with a start. You lurch but can't pull away from the warmth around you. You blink and gurgle through the dregs of drowsiness. Curtis clings to you as his breathing rises and falls slowly. You touch his chest and try again.

He groans and tightens his hold on you. You're stuck between him and the back of the couch. You drag your hand up and tickle his neck.

"Hey, I gotta get up," you say.

"Why?" He gristles without opening his eyes.

"I gotta... gotta pee," you say shyly.

"Mmph, hold it," he grumbles.

You tut, "or maybe I can stain this nice cozy couch."

"Don't be dramatic," he squeezes you and puts you on top of him. "You wanna get wet," his lashes flick open, "I can help with that."

"Curt," you narrow your eyes. "I'm not making excuses-- Argh, oh god, yup," you wince, "I'm definitely thirty."

He chuckles and runs his hand down your side, "hips? Back?" He slips his hand around your ass, "something else getting stiff?"

"I didn't take you for a morning person," you tease.

"I'm not, but I'll let you wake me up," he eyes you hungrily.

"Please," you push on his chest and he lets you lift yourself, only to catch your thighs as you straddle him.

"Mm, I like this," he purrs as he trails up to your hips. You squeak as your bladder pulses.

"I'm not kidding," you grab his large hands.

"Ugh, fine, you're lucky you're cute," he lets you go and stretches his arms above him. His chest strains the tee shirt across it as he does.

You get off and quickly spin, scurrying away to the bathroom as the urgency tingles across your pelvis. You close yourself in the bathroom and take your time, pushing past the tight resistance of holding it too long. The night before hazes through your mind.

Pizza, movies, and snuggling. You're getting used to that last part. You don't even remember falling asleep. Usually you lay awake for hours before you manage to doze off.

You rinse your face before you come out. You smell coffee. You hear him moving around in the kitchen. Instinctively, you check to see where your phone is. Right there on the end table where you left it.

You go into the kitchen as he yawns and rubs his eyes. You stand in the doorway, leaning on the frame as he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. He turns and puts his hand on the counter.

"Well, you don't work Saturdays do you?" He asks.

You shake your head, "not anymore."

"So that means you're free?"

His smirk makes you smile. You shrug.

"Well, I have lots to catch up on. Laundry, groceries... sleeping. Late night."

"Not late enough," he winks.

You look away. You would love to have tried but you're still a bit unsettled by Hugh. And ashamed. You're just not ready for that.

"So no hatchet-throwing?" He quickly redirects.

"Hmm, I'm tempted," you say.

He's quiet as he turns to open the cupboard. He takes out a plain black mug, then another, a similar shade but the handle is a tail; like a cat.

"Reminded me of you," he says.

Your cheeks tinge, "oh, dark things make you think of me?"

He scoffs, "cute things."

You cross your arms and look at the floor.

"Curtis, thanks uh--"

"I really don't think you should go back. Today." He says bluntly. "It's not even been twenty-four hours since the creep showed up. At your work," he looks at you with a dire tweak in his brow. "As your boyfriend, I can't let you."

You reach to scratch your nose, "sure, uh, that's... nice of you to worry--"

"You got his vibe, didn't you? Something wrong with him. From what you've told me, he showed you as much--"

You put your hands to your neck and blow out, "I don't want to think about that."

"Trust me, I don't either," he turns to grab the carafe from the coffee machine. "So why don't we go out? Make a day of it." He pours the coffee and peeks over at you. "I missed you."

Your chest throbs. Yeah. You did ditch him out of nowhere. It's not like you don't feel the same,

"Me too."

His cheek dimples.

"Alright then. All you gotta do is let me treat my girl right," he offers you a cup.

"Sure, not trying is exactly what I'm good at," you kid.

He squints and you give a sheepish look.

"Try being nice to yourself at least," he steps closer and kisses your forehead, "you know I don't like that."

"I'm joking--"

"Not very funny though," he says. He steps back and slurps down the coffee. "Ugh, let me just wake up a bit here."

"Yeah, think I need to," you inhale the aroma. It soothes your achy head.

You shuffle out of the kitchen and wander over to your phone. It's a compulsion at this point. You taste the coffee and hum as you hit the side button on your phone.

"Mm, what kinda coffee is this? It's really..." your voice drifts off.

There's a message. You tap it with your thumb. It's not WhatsApp this time. You've never got a DM on Insta. You only signed up for some raffle thing. It's fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds of your regret sent from a shell account. Below, it read; 'think your boss would be impressed?'

The little checkmark turns colourful as you stare at the image. Shoot. He knows you've seen.

"It's really what?" Curtis asks as he strides in from the kitchen.

"Huh?" You blink and look up at him.

"Doesn't that thing make your eyes hurt so early?" He chides.

"Um..." you hit the side button to hide the screen. He knows as much as needs to, and he's done more than he should. "Habit. Vivica always dogpiles me with memes."

"Hm, well, wanna make a deal?" He drawls.

You look at him, tweaked by the timbre in his voice. There's irritation just beneath the surface.

"I'm gonna take you out today and we're gonna leave our phones at home."

You guiltily set the cell back on the table, "sure. That's a good idea."

You bring your hand back up to cradle the mug and sip.

"Cool," he says. "Figure, we can focus on catching up."

"Right," you agree. Is he expecting a different response?

"Great," he inhales and hovers his cup in front of his lips. "What were you saying about the coffee?"

"Oh, it's really good."

"I have a trick," he grins. "Stick around long enough and I'll show you."

You smile and look down. "Awesome."

☕

You make a brief pit stop at your apartment to grab some clothes. Curtis waits outside as the rumble of his motorcycle echoes his patience. You change into fresh clothes and grab a spare set and few necessities before you go. Not more than can fit in his saddle bags.

Back on the road, you cling to him. The smell of leather melds with his sweat and whatever fragrance he wears. Oaky.

You lean into him as he revs up and speeds along the country roads and backways. You recognize the twisted elm tree in the middle of a field and the rickety fence with fading white paint and splintering posts. He rolls in towards the same farmhouse and antiquated barn. He drops his feet onto the ground as he comes to a stop. The roaring engine quiets and your ears ring.

You get off first and undo the strap of the helmet. Your legs still thrum from the rumble of the engine. He kicks down the stand and climbs off.

"Whose place is this?" You ask.

He shrugs, "a buddy."

"Sure is a nice buddy, letting you take over."

"He's busy a lot."

"Not working on his farm?" You wonder.

"Waiting for the reaping," he takes your helmet and hangs both on the handlebars. "None of your friends have a super cool farm?"

"Nah, Vivica is a city girl and the rest are... well."

He snorts, "how the heck did you end up with them?"

"I ask myself the same thing. More so, how they ended up with me."

He tuts as his cheek ticks. The humour drains slowly from his features. He waves you down the same path as last time.

"Come on, let's try to have a good day. The sun's out here trying," he girds.

You walk ahead of him. You stare at the ground. You don't mean to be a downer. Self-deprecation has always been a shield. It's better to say the obvious first before someone else points it out.

He clears his throat as you clear the house. You lift your head and stop short. He collides with your back, his hands settling on your hips.

The picnic table is draped in a white tablecloth, a bouquet is arranged perfectly in a basket, the handle wrapped in ribbon, and a picnic basket sits next to it. You put your hands on Curtis', shocked at the display. He squeezes and urges you forward.

"So what do you think? You hungry?" He asks. "Can't have you throwing axes on an empty stomach. Otherwise, I might get cut."

"You... How did you?" You utter.

"My buddy helped. Obviously," he walks you to the table. "I'm calling in all my favours."

"It's really..." you step away from his grasp. "Sweet."

"Huh, you don't sound that impressed," he says as he goes to the end of the table and grabs the lighter off the top. He takes one of the candles in a jar and lights it.

"I am... no one..." you sit on the bench as you nearly deflate. You're flattered and happy and everything but it also feels so bittersweet. "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

"Well," he puts down the second candle and sets the lighter beside it. He steps up to lower himself onto the bench beside you. "I'm not no one," he touches your back and you smile. Your chest is all tight.

"Curt," you tilt your chin down then look at him, flicking your lashes over your burning eyes. "You're..." Too good for me. Too sweet. Too everything.

You don't say any of it. You just pull him close and kiss him. You smother his lips with yours as he purrs. His hand crawls up your back and he locks you in his embrace. You never want to let him go.

🪓

Curtis nuzzles along your jaw and nips at your skin. You shiver and curl your fingers along his shoulder blade. Your breath clouds around you hotly, sweat beading over your hairline and nape. Your eyes flick open and fixate on the wall.

He growls as he cradles your head and nudges your chin up, kissing along your throat as you quiver. Your heart flips and your stomach turns. It’s all so nice. Too nice. Too much!

You push on his side and whine his name, “Curtis, Curtis. Please, stop. Stop, stop.”

He exhales and lifts himself to look down at you. His brows stitch in concern. You look away from him in guilt. What’s wrong with you?

“I can’t-- I--” you sputter. “You don’t want me. You can’t. How could you?”

He leans in and drags his nose along your cheek. “Of course I want you, babe. How could I not, hmm?” He kisses your cheek and makes a trail down to your mouth. His lips brush yours and he hums again, “won’t you let me show you how much I want you?” He nibbles your lower lip and tugs on it softly. He lets it go and rocks against you. “Can’t you feel how much I need you?”

You can, even as he still wears the black jeans he took you out in, your own still taut across your hips. The scent of pollen and sweat cling to both of you. The day hazes behind you, the late afternoon dimming between the grey curtains.

You rub his chest, “I...” your eyes rove around the room. The poster of a classic Boris Karloff horror, another of a 90s cult classic. You don’t think another man will ever be so perfect. That they’ll ever be interested in you. Not like Curtis. “I want you too.”

“Baby,” he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You squirm and slip your hand up to your shoulder, dodging another kiss.

“I want... to...” you say, curling your fingers. “But, er...” your cheeks set alight as your eyes dart back and forth. You swallow tightly. “Do you... have protection?”

He chuckles, a rocky crackle in his throat. He presses his lips to your forehead and pushes off you. The bed bounces with his movement. You watch him as he goes to the tall black dress. He broad shoulders stretch out his black tee.

“Course,” he says. “I’ve been ready for you, baby.”

He comes back to you and places the small gold and black square on the night stand. He stands at the side of the bed rolls up his tee shirt. He strips it off and reveals his hair-trimmed torso. He keeps his head tidy and short but the rest of him is untamed. The dark fur laces over deeply etched muscle.

You push yourself up reach behind your neck. He drops his tee and moves to stop you. He clucks.

“Ah, I’m in no rush,” he pulls your arm down. “I wanna enjoy this. I want you to.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “You let me do everything.”

He slips his hand up behind your head and draws you into another kiss. Gentle at first, growing hungrier as his tongue invades and his fingers bend against your skull. He inhales you, almost rocking you as he drinks you in. You hook your arm around his neck and he pushes you onto your back.

He grabs your other hand, twining his fingers with yours, and holds it above the pillow as he devours you. His growls flood your throat and his heat swathes around you. His fingertips caress your scalp and he parts with a sigh.

He sits up and looks you up and down. He drags his hand away from your hair and strokes your cheek and chin. You glance away shyly. He frames your jaw and turns your head straight, his thumb toying with your lower lip.

“You are gorgeous, you know that?” He purrs.

You can’t speak. Your chest is racked, as if there are chains wrapped around your ribs. You smile, cheeks flushing, body surging with fire.

He traces down your neck, his roughened touch raising bumps on your skin. He lingers on the vee of your tee shirt, his eyes following the path of his hand. He glosses over the cotton down to the hem. Your muscles tense as he tickles along your lower stomach.

He hooks his thumb under the fabric and tugs it up slowly. You curl up and lift your arms as he peels off the shirt. You lay back, shallow breaths swelling in your chest as your chest bulges in your plain bra. You peek down.

“Sorry, I didn’t have anything... prettier.”

“Perfect,” he rasps and bends to kiss along the top of your chest, just beneath your collar bone. His nose drags with his lips and leaves a trail down to cleavage. He shifts and brings his hand to cup one tit as he burrows his face between them.

You gasp and brush the back of his head with your palm. His breath sends tendrils of ice through you. The new sensations are scary but you don’t want him to stop. This is the right way. This is how you should have done it...

He follows the edge of your bra to the strap and slips it down your shoulder. He does the same with the other and slides his hands beneath you. You arch your back as he unhooks your bra. You shiver and your hand falls to his firm shoulder. You squeeze the muscle, hypnotised by his Adonis form.

“Wow,” you eke out.

He raises himself, just a bit, and drags away your bra. You squeak and cover yourself instinctively as your tits fall free. You giggle as he looks down at you. His grey-blue eyes are darker, hotter.

“Wow?” He echoes coyly.

“You... um... sorry, I just...”

“Wow, you,” he growls.

He pulls your wrists apart and frees your chest. He pins your hands to the bed and bends over you again. His strength is overwhelming but alluring. You don’t want to escape him. He bows and nibbles at the soft flesh, teasing with his teeth and tongue, taking your nipple between his lips with a hum.

His timbre flows through you and you whine again. Your spine curves and your toes curl. His tongue flicks around the hard pebble and pressure builds as he sucks. You writhe and moan.

He takes his time tending to you, moving across your chest with a smear of saliva. Snarling as he tastes you, toys with you, tantalizes you. He pinches just enough for you to squeal and he snickers in delight. You squirm as your walls clench.

“Curt,” you murmur.

“Patience, baby, I got it,” he lets go of your wrists and turns to kiss down your stomach. You twitch and try to cover it. He pushes your hand away. “Mmm.” He bites into you, “why you hiding?”

“I’m not... I just--”

He spreads his large hand across your stomach and squeezes. He delights in the pillow of your middle, doting on it as he inches closer and closer to the top of your jeans. He trails his hand over the acid wash and down your thigh.

His nose grazes over your waistline and he bites down on the denim. He tugs with his teeth until the button pops open. You gasp again. You’re not nervous like you were before. Not afraid. You just want to stop thinking about that.

He flutters up to the top of your jeans and slips his fingers beneath. He pulls them down, little by little, easing you out of them, following the line of your legs. He untangles them from your ankles and hurls them carelessly away from the bed.

He gets to his knees and pushes yours apart. Your stomach flips. You look down at your panties and cover your chest again. He’s fixated on them as well.

He lowers himself to his stomach and nuzzles the cotton. You wince and he looks up at you. His brows arch as he inhales your, nestling into you as he pushes his nose against your cunt. Your thighs twitch.

He pushes his arms wide under your legs and bends to graze along the bottom of your ass. He guides your thighs over his shoulders and tilts his head down. His long lashes flick and he rolls his head as he burrows into you.

He growls and kneads your thighs, pushing them against his head. He teases you, his tongue wetting the fabric as he plays with you through them. You slap your hands against the bed and clasp onto the dark coverlet. Your feet arch and your calves strain.

His hand crawls away from thigh and dips beneath you. He tugs aside your panties and flicks his tongue lightly over your folds. You moan and lift your hip. He keeps his fingers hooked around the cotton and plunges his cool tongue into your heat. You whine at the swirling sensation that unfurls through you.

He spreads his tongue wide and drags it up. He hums and slides back down. He drinks you in, pressing his nose into you, smearing your slickness over his face. He snarls and circles your clit cloyingly. You shiver and squeak, reaching for the back of his head.

You push him down. He doesn’t resist. He seals his lips around your clit and you whimper. He sucks and flicks his tongue; swirling, up and down, side to side, pinpointing ever nerve to your core.

You heave and bring your other hand down to grip his head, your hips bucking as your stomach ties in knots and your spine goes rigid. You hiss through your teeth, eyes rolling back, legs bending, feet pushing into the mattress. You lift your pelvis as you urge him, writhing in time with him.

You squeal as the sudden release has your muscles tingle and spasming. You fall back and shake as you cum. He laps it up, growling and groaning as he drinks you in. He doesn’t stop until your breathlessly babbling.

He lifts his head and smacks his lips. He sits up as your legs splay limply around him. He sits on his knees and grips your panties. He snaps them at the seam and pushes the elastic up your stomach. You gasp and look down at the ruin.

He delves between your lips with his fingers. He rubs you with two, down to your entrance and back again. He repeats the motion as you groan and gasp. He teases you, pausing to roll around your clit, then slipping back to your entrance.

He turns his hand and pushes against you. His eyes meet yours as he dips a finger into you. You squeak as he glides in to his knuckle. He drags his finger out slowly and adds a second, once more diving in deep. He presses the heel of his hand to your clit.

He keeps his hand between your legs and moves to bend over you, keeping himself up on his elbow. He kisses you as he rocks his hand. You groan into his mouth, the sweet flavour on his tongue staining your own. Is that what you taste like?

He keeps his hand tilting and your thighs clench around it. You latch onto his wrist, moving your hips as you feel the same swell building within. You turn your head and choke on a whimper. You cum again, you insides twitching and clinging to him.

“That good?” He grits in your ear. You hum and nod.

“Curtis...”

He slips his hand free and drags his wet fingers up your body. He brings them to your chin and forces your head straight. He rests his forehead on yours.

“Baby?”

“I... please...”

“You sure?” He asks.

“I’m sure.” You wisp.

He inhales and kisses you. He parts and gets up, jostling you and the bed. He stands by the side of the bed. His stomach tenses as he undoes his fly. You can see him in his jeans, ready to burst. You push your thighs together. You did that?

He pushes his jeans down and groans at the friction of denim and cotton. He steps out of them and pulls the elastic of his boxers out, guiding them down his thighs as his dick bobs before him. You blink and stare at him. He’s big; thick. His veins bulge under his skin and his tip weeps with glistening anticipation.

He takes the condom and tears open the package. He grunts as he puts the rubber against his tip. His hips recoil and he grips the base of his dick as he rolls the condom on. He hisses as he does.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby, just... been waiting,” he says.

He lowers himself onto the bed, laying on his side. You don’t know what to do. You expected him to get between your legs, to have you on your back like Hugh did. Maybe even face down.

He caresses you from neck to pelvis and up again. You watch his hand as you tremble. You touch his fingers then follow the length of his arm. You turn onto your side to face him.

You pet the hair along his chest and spread your fingers to feel his muscle. You bite your lip. You watch his muscles contract as you stroke his stomach. You brush again his tip and he twitches.

You gently wrap your fingers around him. He groans. You pump him slowly. He curls his fingers into your side. He kisses your hairline. You grip him tighter and do it again.

“Can’t...” he growls into your hair.

He slides his hand past your ass to your thigh. He guides your leg over his hip and shifts closer. He bends his leg under your to hold it up and reaches behind you. He uses his fingers to guide his tip to your entrance. He pauses as you look up at him.

He adjusts his shoulders and slides an arm beneath you. He draws you even closer. He touches your nose with his then presses another kiss to your lips. He snarls as he stretches you around his tip.

You curl an arm around him, hooking your leg around his, and welcome him in. He shakes as he rocks carefully, easing in and out with each inch. You whine and pull away from his lips, tilting your head back. Your voice unravels as he gets deeper and deeper.

He plunges in as deep as he can and pulls out slowly. You quiver and squeeze him tight. You look him in the eye and sigh.

“Curtis,” you say. “I need you to fuck me.”

He growls and his pupils grow. He pushes you onto your back, bringing himself over you. You keep your leg hook over him. He dips in again, holding himself at his limit, even deeper than before. You squirm and latch onto his bicep, squeezing the thick muscle as he bends it beneath your head.

“This what you want?” He gives a long torturous thrust. “Like this?”

“More.” You gasp.

“More?” He snaps his hips but pulls out slow again.

“Faster,” you demand.

“Mmm,” he hums, “baby, I told you, I wanna enjoy you.”

“Harder,” you bring your other hand to his neck, curling it behind. “Please, just fuck me.”

“Faster?” He speeds up just a little. “Harder?” He ruts so you sink into the mattress just a little.

“Mhmm,” you moan.

“Okay,” his rhythm stays as it is.

“More!” Your nails dig into his bicep.

“You got all of me baby,” his hips rock steady.

“No, more,” you beg.

“More?” He look down between your bodies. You follow his gaze, just a glimpse of him and you.

“Fuck me!” You yelp. “Please.”

“I’m fucking you, baby,” he smirks and bows to kiss your throat.

“Curt--” You squeak as he jolts you but doesn’t speed up.

“Mm, I just... I want you around me forever,” he growls into your neck.

“Please--”

He growls as he keeps his tempo. You writhe desperately. Pleading as he keeps nipping and pecking over your neck and shoulders. In, out, in out. Just enough to bring you to the edge but not over.

He hooks his other arm beneath you and all once, lifts himself up. He sits on his heels as he put you in his lap. He fills you up as you catch yourself against his chest. He smothers your mouth with his.

He rolls his hips. You twitch and whine. He does it again. Again. Again. You feel him speeding up. You cling to him, tongues wrestling, breath mingling, bodies intertwined. You move in tandem with him, working towards that thrum pulsing inside of you.

You pull your lips from his and lean your head on his, moaning in his ear.

“Oh, Curt, I’m-- I’m--”

You orgasm and squeal, clawing at his back as you do. He snickers as he keeps on. You twitch and tremble as your clit burns against his pelvis.

He reaches to untangle your arms from around his neck. He eases you back so you hang off him. He moves your hips with one hand, the other on your shoulder as he watches himself fuck you from below. Your head lolls back as you clasp onto his shoulders to keep from falling off.

“Fuck, baby, fuck--” He rasps as his pace turns frantic. He pounds against you, flesh clapping, breath chugging, fingers dipping into your flesh. “Ah-ah-ah.”

He rams up into you, several times before quaking and slowing, whining as he cums. He shudders and stills you, letting you down onto your back. You huff in unison, staring at each other as the afterglow blooms around you. His shoulders drop as you lay limp on the mattress, him still inside.

He looks down and pets your thighs. You spasm and catch his hands.

“You got me,” he says as he meets your eye again. “Baby, I’m yours.”

Your lashes flutter. You don’t know what to say.

“Baby?”

You look at him. What?

“You’re mine, aren’t ya?”

You flinch then nod. His eyes narrow.

“Say it.”

You hesitate and swallow.

“Curt--”

He snaps his hips and you squeal.

“I--” you croak. “I’m yours.”

He grins and snickers as he falls forward, pinning you beneath him. He thrusts lazily as you squirm. “Damn right.”

#curtis everett #ransom drysdale #dark curtis everett #dark ransom drysdale #dark!curtis everett #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #knives out #to those who wait #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au

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