#idk about italics and shit okay? throw me down a hole or do something

[scoruspio]

Fucking love it when “Do you believe you could change me, the way I’ve changed you?” “I already did.”

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[spoopy-imagines-writer]

Hot Mess

Request: Can you do a Damon Salvatore smut where he and the reader had a fight and she just walks out and leaves the boarding house for hours and doesn't answer any of his calls or texts until she listens to a voicemail where he sounds so broken and she goes back and they have rough make up sex and she asks him to use compulsion on her to make her cum multiple times? So yeah definitely compulsion kink can be a warning idk I just love to think they can use compulsion for that kinda thing 🤷🏼‍♀️ thanks! - @fuckkoffcourtney (I’m sorry, the tag isn’t working)

Pairing: Damon x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Angst, smut, compulsion kink, slight praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys and gals) 18+ only

Song: Hot Mess by Cobra Starship

A/N: Italics are flashbacks. I hope you guys enjoy this <3 -Jo

“Damon stop fucking calling…” You muttered to yourself as you heard the ringtone for your boyfriend go off for the tenth time that day. You let that call go to voicemail too, still unable to bring yourself to talk to him. After the phone stopped ringing, you just turned it off and tossed it in your bag.

You marched into the Salvatore boarding house, Damon slammed the door behind you. “You’re not going anywhere until we talk. That bullet wouldn’t have killed me, Y/n.” His voice was law, his tone dangerous.

You knew you shouldn’t poke the bear but he was making it difficult for you. Your pride was also an issue. “And it didn’t kill me either, Damon.” You tried to make your tone match his. You didn’t want a fight, especially since everyone made it home in mostly one piece. “I knew Matt wouldn’t shoot to kill me, and I knew you’d take care of me.” You grinned, trying to cozy up to your boyfriend. You just wanted to diffuse the situation, get him to calm down.

Damon wasn’t having it. He gripped your upper arms almost too tightly. “Don’t you get it?! This… self-sacrificing crap doesn’t work when you’re human and incredibly breakable!” He barely had a hold on his temper anymore as he shouted at you. You continued to stand your ground, even as he squeezed your arms a bit harder as if to prove a point.

“I’m not as delicate as you make me out to be, Damon.” Your expression hardened before you winced slightly at the pressure from where he held you.

His eyes tightened as he relaxed his grip on you. He’d seen your flinch. “I beg to differ. What if I hadn’t gotten to you in time? What if you had bled out and I couldn’t save you, huh? Where would you be?” He all-but shoved you away from him. You stiffened, eyes filling with tears that you didn’t dare let spill over in front of him. “You’d be dead. And I don’t know where I’d be. You’re just a pathetic, fragile, little human who thinks she can play with the big kids because one of them is her boyfriend.”

You laughed without humor. “You’re really trying to get me to hate you, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying to get you to see that this isn’t working anymore! Hell, it barely worked at all!” He ran one hand through his hair and looked anywhere but at you.

You didn’t know what reaction he was expecting from you; maybe crying, running away. No, as much as you wanted to cry, you were beyond pissed off. You shoved at his shoulder, and still he refused to look at you. “So that’s it then?! Seven years, Damon. Through seven years, several deaths, the Mikaelsons, witches, werewolves, vampires… Through all the absolute shit we’ve been through, this is what you decide breaks us?” He finally looked your way, wanting to say something but you were on a roll. “Because this is all you, Damon. Your decision alone. Congratulations,you got what you wanted. But you know that you’re not the only one dealing with the consequences of this decision.” You let that be the final word before you stormed out of the house, not even bothering to shut the door. You waited until you got in your car before you finally felt the dam break.

After your tears dried, you’d turned your phone off and took off in your car to any direction. You drove mindlessly for hours until your eyes blurred from exhaustion, and you had to keep going until you finally spotted a motel.

You checked in and collapsed on the bed once you got to your room. To say it had been a long day would be a major understatement. You tried not to think about Damon again before you passed out on the moderately comfortable bed.

The sunlight invading your eyelids was what woke you up. You were disoriented for a few moments before you remembered where you were. That’s to say… where you weren’t. The room you were in was a stark contrast to Damon’s bedroom at home. It was dingy but in all honesty not the worst you’d ever stayed in. You went to go take a quick shower.

When you came back you sighed and ran your hands over your face. Now that you’d had more time to cool off, you could see what happened a little more clearly. You’d known even yesterday that Damon was only throwing hurtful words at you to make you leave him, for what he thought was your own safety. It only worked because your emotions were already so raw with your near-death experience. Maybe he had finally cooled off too.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, you saw that it was later than you’d originally thought at about one in the afternoon. You reached over and dug out your phone and cursed, you realized you’d forgotten to turn it back on. After it came back to life, your notifications started going off one after another. You immediately checked looked through your text messages. There were seventeen in total eight from Damon, seven from Stefan, and two from Matt. There were a ton of missed calls but only one voicemail dated at 3:58 a.m. It was from Damon.

“Y/n, I….” He sighed. “Look the least you could do is answer your damn phone. I get that you’re pissed off and… Fuck, if you’re still driving just be careful….” You heard the sloshing of liquid in glass and you assumed he’d taken another drink of his bourbon straight from the bottle. “I just keep thinking…. If something happened to you right now, I’d never know. I can barely protect you if you’re here and I can’t protect you when you’re not here.” You heard it then, the slight slurring in his words. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. And I hurt you, fuck… I hurt you and I’m so damn sorry. If you don’t come home, I get it. Just… I need to you know that I-“. His voice cut out when he’d run out of time, and your heart clenched at his voice. He sounded more regretful than you’d ever heard him. You made a decision and you hastily got dressed, throwing everything else in your bag. You jumped in your car and took off back down the road towards Mystic Falls.  

When you got back to the boarding house, Stefan was sitting in the garage. He stood as soon as you parked. “Y/n,” he breathed. He hugged you tightly. “Damon told me about what happened yesterday after you got home. I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t worry about it, Stefan.” You pulled away and smiled slightly at him. “You know how he is, this probably won’t be the last time he tries to push me away in the name of my safety. It certainly isn’t the first, but this time… It felt different.”

“I know.” He pointed to the upstairs window, where Damon’s room was. “He’s been holed up in there all night. I don’t know what all he’s done in there but I heard a lot of banging… I’ll take off and give you guys some privacy, okay?” He hugged you again and kissed the side of your head, leaving you to deal with his brother.

You made your way upstairs where you heard rock music being played. You pushed the door open slowly, taking in the absolute mess that he’d made. Usually you and Damon like to keep this room as together as possible… except when clothes were being tossed anywhere when you two were getting down to… business. Now it looked like a tornado came through. Pillows were all over the place, the lamp was on the floor, there were glass shards laying on several spots on the floor.

Your eyes fell on Damon’s slouching form in the corner, and he looked rough for just one night.

“Stefan said it wasn’t pretty up here.”

Damon’s head shot up at the sound of your voice. “Y/n…”

You gave him a small wave. “Hi, baby.”

“Y/n,” he breathed again. He shot up and was suddenly in front of you. He hugged you tightly to him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

You rubbed your hands up and down his back, soothing him. “It’s okay, you were right. I shouldn’t have been so reckless.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away…” He glanced around the room. “It’s obvious you’re the only thing keeping me together.”

You slapped his chest lightly. “Come on, let’s get this cleaned up and then we can talk.” You bent down to start picking up the larger pieces of what used to be one of his drinking glasses.

“Ouch!” You finger stung from the glass that got stuck, it wasn’t bad but enough to break the skin. You plucked the small shards sticking out, going to suck on your finger to stop the stinging when a strong hand caught your wrist. Damon’s eyes were on your hand, not in a threatening way but there was still something predatory about the look in his eyes. His eyes went to yours as he brought your finger to his lips. He kissed it before sticking it in his mouth and sucking, still keeping eye contact with you. Your panties dampened and you moaned when he ran his tongue sensually around the tip of your finger to swipe at the blood.

“Damon,” you whispered. You didn’t have the chance to say anything else. He released your hand and pulled you to him, his mouth instantly dominating yours. He grabbed the back of your head to grip your still-damp hair and pulled you impossibly close. You wrapped your arms around him to grip the back of his t-shirt. You pulled your mouth from his to catch your breath but that didn’t stop Damon. His lips traveled down your neck and his hands moved slowly to the hem of your shirt. You let go of his for a moment so he could lift it off you, leaving you in your bra and shorts and his lips went right back to your chest. He worked his way down, leaving small marks here and there but he never broke the skin. His hands roamed your sides. When he reached the hem of your shorts, his arms went underneath your knees and behind your back as he lifted you like you weighed nothing.

Damon carried you over and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed. You breathed heavily as you looked at him. He yanked your pants and underwear down in one swoop, leaving you almost completely bare. He looked back up at you again. His eyes were lustblown as he looked lovingly at you. He crawled up the bed and hovered over you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed out quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh.” You pecked his lips. “We’re okay. Now,” you cleared your throat, “there’s something… I kind of want to try.”

“What is it?” He asked absentmindedly. His hands were running down your body again, his long fingers making their way to that spot you desperately needed them. You clenched your legs together in anticipation.

“I… Damon I want you to be rough with me. Order me around… Use compulsion on me.” His hand froze. You were quick to explain. “We’ve talked about it before, and you know its nothing more than the physical restraints we take out from time to time.” He still didn’t look too sure. You sighed. “Damon… please. I need this.”

The pleading tone in your voice cut through to him. His hand that had been so close to your aching pussy moved slowly back up you cup your jaw. His eyes hardened and you felt yourself grow wetter. He focused on your eyes. “Y/n, you are absolutely not allowed to cum until I tell you to. You are not allowed to touch yourself until I tell you to. Do I make myself clear, answer yes or no.”

“Yes,” you whimpered at the growl in his voice.

Damon gave you his signature smirk. He kissed you again, roughly this time. His hand went to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and he raised an eyebrow. Knowing he’d take a mental note to remember that for later, he released you and straddled your waist. He didn’t even bother trying to take your bra off the easy way, he just ripped the offending material in half and tossed it among the debris in the room. His mouth latched onto one hard nipple and he tweaked and pulled the other between his fingers.

You bit your lip to keep from crying out when he nipped lightly at the hardened bud. He lifted his head and glared at you. “I want to hear every little sound I can pull from you, Y/n.”

“Yes Damon,” you tried to say but it came out as a strangled moan.

He got off you and moved off the bed, yanking his shirt off and tossed it behind him too. He unbuckled his pants and freed his cock. He gave it a few long strokes while you stared. You licked your lips at the sight. He whistled at you and lifted one perfect eyebrow. “On your knees,” he demanded in a hard voice. You didn’t waste time to do as you were told. He stood in front of you, his cock in your face. His eyes were intense. “Suck with your hands behind your back, do not move them or you might not get to cum at all tonight.”

“Yes, Damon,” you whispered. You clasped your hands behind your back and began to run your tongue up and down the length of his dick. Your tongue swirled around the tip before you started sucking hard at the top.

He moaned when you hollowed your cheeks and began to suck harder. He tangled his fingers in your hair. “Such a good girl, Y/n. Its been so long since you’ve been my good girl like this, hasn’t it?” You groaned around him, which caused him to grip your hair a bit tighter. “Yeah, just like that…” He moaned and gathered all of your hair in his fist to make a makeshift ponytail. “Look at me.” You looked him in the eyes and, although he was being firm, you could see the tenderness there. “I want you to relax your throat muscles and keep eye contact with me.”

He wasn’t using compulsion but you couldn’t help but obey him nonetheless. You stopped sucking and suppressed your gag reflex as best as you could. He braced his legs and he began fucking your mouth. Again, and again he hit the back of your throat and went past it. You tried not to move, only staring at Damon even when he closed his eyes.

You gagged a bit when you felt his hips start to stutter. You thought he was going to cum down your throat when he suddenly pulled out of your mouth and squeezed at the base to stop his orgasm. Both of you were breathing heavily. He let go of your hair and stroked your face gently. “Good girl, such a good girl, Y/n.” You moaned and leaned into his hand. “I think you deserve a reward. On the bed with your knees apart.” You scrambled to do as he said. He kicked his pants completely off before taking a spot between your legs. He moved one of his long fingers slowly between your folds and you moaned loudly at finally being touched. He grinned at the amount of slick he found. “This all for me?” He pinched your clit between two fingers and you groaned. Suddenly his mouth replaced his fingers and he sucked hard on your clit while pushing two fingers in you.

“Damon!” you cried out. He went harder, scissoring you open before he felt you were ready for a third finger. You could feel that heat in your belly building up but you were unable to cum. “Damon please, I need-!”

“Cum now!”

You moaned loudly as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, shouting variations of “Yes!” and “Oh fuck!”

Damon lapped up every bit of juices you gave him. When you came back down he was hovering above you, cock at your entrance. “Ready?” he asked you. You nodded and he entered you in one hard thrust. Your nails dug into his shoulders, nearly drawing blood. He kissed you messily, silencing your cries.

Damon basically fucked you into the mattress until the both of you were on the verge of coming when he suddenly flipped you over so you were straddling him while he was still inside you. He used compulsion again. “Ride me as hard as you can, take what you need from me and cum whenever you need.”

And you did, bouncing up and down while you continued to grip his shoulders. He sat up and began sucking hard on your nipples again. You moaned, feeling that heat building once again. You rode him faster, chasing your orgasm and he thrust up into you, chasing his own.

“Fuck, Y/n. Oh Y/n.” He groaned into your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock.”

Despite the compulsion being broken, you obeyed. “Oh my- oh fuck, Damon!” you screamed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Y/n- Oh fuck!” Damon spilled himself inside you. He hugged you close to him and laid you both down on the ruined sheets. It took a while for both of you to catch your breath, but eventually he said, “I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, you ass.” He smacked your ass lightly at the name. “Hey, next time we fight, can we just skip past the yelling and storming out and get right down the fun stuff?”

[idk-yet-when-i-feel-like-it]

Unexpected, to say the least. Chapter 2

Warnings: shitty writing, swearing, idk 

Italics are your thoughts

School Uniform:

Pants: Solid colored pants, no sweats, no leggings, no jeans, no holes.

Shirts: Crew neck shirts or higher. Flannels, button ups, sweatshirts, sweaters are allowed but no logo, writing, or brand can be bigger than a post-it note

Other: No hats, can’t wear hoods up, no sunglasses.

December 11, 2018

You woke up to the sound of your alarm going off and the groans of the two boys you slept between. 

“Shit, when did we fall asleep?” you asked groggily.

“You and E passed out at like 1, I finished the movie.” Grayson responded.

You looked over at Ethan and wondered how the fuck he fell back asleep so quickly. You sat up with Ethan still leaning on you and Grayson got up and went to the bathroom. Your sleepiness wore off as you remember what happened after school yesterday. Shit, what the fuck. School’s gonna be hell, at least they won’t be ther-. FUCK, he’s shadowing me. Hopefully, he sleeps through my getting ready.

You shove, the still sleeping, Ethan off of you and go up to your room to get ready. You grab an outfit that followed your school’s dress code which includes your favorite green jeggings and a cute black sweatshirt. Technically, these pants aren’t allowed at school but I love them too much to care. 

You took a quick shower and had plenty of time left but rushed to leave before Ethan woke up. Fuck it, I’ll just throw my wet hair in a bun. After putting on your make-up you stepped out of the bathroom and ran right into Ethan. 

“Shit, sorry.” You said. Fuck, he’s awake. And ready? How the he-

“Are you ready to go?” Ethan asked cutting off your thoughts.

“You still wanna do this?”

“Hell yeah, I want to meet all your friends and ma-”

“Make my life hell” You finished for him.

“Exactly,”  he laughed.

“You can’t wear that though” you say looking him up and down. He looks really good, too bad my school has a dress code.

“Why? Does it look bad?” He asked. Ethan was wearing grey joggers and a semi-tight black v-neck.

“No, we have a dress code. And you know full well grey sweats equals dick print. I don’t need you bringing anymore attention than you already have. You know you’re gonna have to explain why the fuck you did that yesterday, right?”

“What did he do?” Grayson asked coming up the stairs.

“It’s nothing bro, I’m shadowing her today.” Ethan responded quickly.

You looked at him confused, you guys never kept secrets before.

“E, we were supposed to film today!” Grayson exclaimed clearly annoyed.

“Gray, I can just film my day with y/n/n. And then we can do some more filming here or in town after. Anddd then we can save that video idea for the next one.” Ethan reasoned.

“Ok, as fun as this argument is, we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.” You lied, walking downstairs. You weren’t late but you really wanted to get coffee.

“Bye, Gray, everything is all good. Y/n/n, wait up I gotta grab the camera and change” Ethan said as he ran downstairs

“What do I wear?” He asked.

You walked up to his suitcase and picked up a olive hoodie and black pants.

“We can be opposites,” you laughed.

“Bet. I’m wearing it.” He replied.

“I feel like I just played myself,” you responded shaking your head.

“You did.”

You and Ethan stopped at a local coffee shop. Ethan had pulled out the camera and got some shots of the drive as well as the coffee shop. 

Pointing the camera at you Ethan said, “Hey guys, I know we haven’t seen her in a few years but this is y/n. She grew up with Gray and I and I’m gonna shadow her at her school today.”

“Eth, I’m trying to order.” You turn to the barista and order “I’ll have a medium Kenya, please.”

“Awh, guys y/n is so polite. Also what is a ‘Kenya’?” He asked.

“It’s like wear the coffee bean came from, basically a black coffee.” You answered.

“You drink straight black coffee?” He said surprised

“Yea,” you laugh. “I like my coffee like I like my men, a little bitter.”

He kept that footage in the video. As well as, the rest of the drive. He’s probably filming to avoid talking about yesterday. That headass.

Getting to school was insane. All those girls were looking for you, not even expecting Ethan or Grayson to be there. When they found out Ethan was there, all hell broke loose. The principle had to make an announcement saying that if anyone bothered him or made a big scene they would be suspended and their permanent record would be stained. After that, everything calmed down.

“Okay, Eth, I’ve got four classes today. We do a block schedule so each class is an hour and a half.”

“Damn, those are so long. I do not miss going to school.”

“Yea, well shadowing is for perspective students so don’t say that in front of the wrong people.” You say hushing him.

Your first class of the day was World Religions. Since you went to a private school this class was allowed. Mr. Blink was the teacher. His first name was Sean and everyone called him sweaty Sean behind his back. The man sweat more than anyone you’ve ever met. Mr. Blink kept the students desks in a semi circle with two rows and the desks were never evenly spread out.

“Miss y/l/n, care to introduce your friend here?” Mr Blink asked.

“Uh, yea, this is Ethan. He’s kind of slow so b- ow!” You laughed as you were interrupted by Ethan hitting your leg.

“I am that not slow.” He said laughing with you and your classmates.

“Okay, that’s enough everyone” Sweaty Sean announced and started teaching.

“Y/n/n, I’m gonna get you back for that.” He whispered into you ear and sending shivers down your spine. You noticed how close his desk was to yours and your arms barely touched as he leaned to one side of the desk. You did not pay attention for the rest of class. This was half because of how boring to class was but also because Ethan kept poking you and annoying you.

The finally rang.

“Where to now, Miss y/l/n?” Ethan asked mimicking Mr. Blink’s voice.

“We have a 20 minute break, dickhead.” You answered laughing.

“Come on, I guess you can meet my friends.”

You brought Ethan up to four of you friends, Mason, Nick, Ben, and Emily.

“Hey guys, this is Ethan.”

“Yo, I’m Mason”

“I’m Ben”

“Hi, I’m Emily.” She turned to you and said “I thought you were bluffing when you said you knew the Dolan Twins.”

Ethan laughed.

“And, Eth, this is Nick.” You tell him.

They nod at one another and Ethan starts talking with Emily, Mason, and Ben. You walk over to Nick.

“Hey, y/n/n.” You can see Ethan tense at your nickname behind Nick.

“Hey, did you do the English homework for next block?”

“Shit, no. What’d we have to do?”

“Nickkkk,” you laughed, “We had to read Act III Scene i of the Tempest.”

You noticed Ethan paying attention to your coversation again. Is he jealous? No way, he just met your friends he’s probably uncomfortable. Yea, that’s it. If you’re honest though, you definitely had a crush on Nick.

The warning bell rings, seven minutes until class starts.

“Y/n/n,” Ethan tenses again at Nick using that name “wanna give me a quick summary while we walk?”

“Yea, of course.” You answer. “Eth, we gotta go to class.”

“Coming babes,” he winks at you.

What the fuck? This shit again. He’s trying to fuck up my shot with Nick. Dickhead.

“Ok,” you say walking closer to Nick than you are to Ethan, “basically the act is Ferdinand professing his love to Miranda even though they just met.”

“Shit, that’s insane.” Nick comments.

“I believe it is all just your willing suspension of disbelief since the play only occurs in one day. Anyway, then Miranda is like I love you too. Even if you cheated on my I’d still love you and all this crazy shit. And then Prospero is like creeping on them and watching this happen. He’s happy though because it’s part of his plan but also he has to disprove of it to Miranda so that she wants to do it more...” you explain to whole scene and finish as the three of you walk into Ms. VanHout’s class.

“Thanks y/n/n,” Ethan tenses up again. “You’re the best.” Nick finishes as he hugs you.

“Anytime.” And then you wink at Ethan.

Ms. VanHout is a forty something divorcee and she is pretty chill. Her classroom is set up in rows. You sit in the middle row three desks from the front. Ethan sits behind you since the kid who usually sits there is sick and Nick sits next to you. The whole class you sit facing Nick, in order to talk to both him and Ethan.

“Y/n, wanna tell the class your friends name?” Ms. VanHout asked.

“Sur-“ you were interrupted by Ethan saying

“I can introduce myself. Last block didn’t go so well.” A few kids that were in your second block chuckled and Ethan continued

“I’m Ethan and I’m from LA. I am a YouTuber and i have a channel with my twin brother. Ms. VanHout, would you mind if I filmed some of your class?”

“Oh, wow. Sure Ethan. Today we are going to have people act out the scene we read for homework.” Ms. VanHout answered excitedly.

“Y/n would you mind being Miranda?” Ms. VanHout always called on you. This probably had to do with the fact that even though you had so much anxiety you could never say no. To anything. The amount of times that you fell into a relationship with someone you weren’t even into was wayyy too high.

“Sure.” You responded.

“Ms. VanHout, would you mind if I played Ferdinand? I read the material late last night with y/n/n.” Ethan volunteers, winking at you.

That fucker is literally gonna get me killed. All these girls are still obsessed with him. All he does is focus on me. I have a chance with Nick not with him can’t he just let me shoot my shot.

“That’s wonderful, of course Ethan.” Ms. VanHout says.

The other parts are given away to people you don’t talk to and Ethan sets up the camera to film you the scene and everyone goes to the front.

“...And now farewell Till half hour hence” you recite

“A thousand thousand” Ethan replies leaning in and putting his hand under your jaw. “Ready for another dose of hell” he whispers as he kisses you and then turns to exeunt.

“Ethan, was it? That was not a part of the scene and frankly not very appropriate.” Ms. VanHout states.

“Oh, oh it’s totally okay Ms. VanHout. I’ve known Ethan forever and frankly he is a mediocre kisser.” You reply in an attempt to get under Ethan’s skin.

The bell rings just before Ethan has a chance to retort.

“Come on Eth, it’s time for lunch.” You smirk saying “Nick, Ethan and I were going to go out to get lunch, care to join?”

“Oh, I totally want to, y/n/n, but I don’t have an off block so I don’t have time.” Nick replies and again you notice Ethan is no longer amused in the slightest.

“Okay, see you later”

Ethan doesn’t say a word on the way to the car or on the way to the downtown restaurant you both were meeting Grayson at. It was almost scary.

When you arrived, you and Ethan got out of the car and were walking through an alley to get to the restaurant. You got a text from Grayson saying he’d be ten minutes late and finally breaking the silence you started telling Ethan “Hey, Gray is going to be late, he just tex-“ you were cut off as Ethan pushed your back against the wall and placed one hand on the wall beside your head and the other on your hipbone. “Ethan, are you good?” You barely whisper.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have talked to Nick so much and the way he called you y/n/n pissed me off. All this time I was so excited to come to your school and tease you and hang out with you but he was all over you. It just made me so angry and I didn’t know could be this angry about a -“

It was your turn to cut him off you leaned in and cut him off with a deep kiss. His hand moved to you jaw and the other gripped harder on your hip. Your kiss lasted at least three minutes only to end with:

“Y/n! Ethan!”

You both turn to see Grayson standing at the alley’s entrance, mouth wide open.