#i miss him and i hate his fucking guts and i hope when he opened that box up he realized the mistake he made.

[arminsumi]

we've had ex geto... but what about ex gojo?

YOUR FAVORITE EX

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Note : ooo... ex gojo 🤤 hope u likey

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains smut/explicit content, kinda toxic themes, some angst, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, unprotected sex + creampies, possessiveness

Playme : streets

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

Ex!Gojo makes the break up everyone's business. And of course it's you breaking up with his obnoxious, overdramatic ass. Multiple times, too. You two have broken up so many times in fact that your friends just don't take it seriously anymore when you announce "We're breaking up". That just means "We're getting back together in two weeks (lol)."

Ex!Gojo pulls the "I can't find anyone like you" and the "Aw, don't be like that, baby" cards on you.

Ex!Gojo claims to be your favorite ex. Yeah you hate him... buuut he's still your favorite... right? Right? He'll nag you to admit it. It makes his heart flutter and ego swell bigger than his head.

Ex!Gojo is a menace, always deterring your potential new lovers and declining dates on your behalf. He gives you a stupid excuse with that cheeky smirk, "What? It's not like they could love you better than me, anyways. I'm the best. Don't waste your time. Just come back to me, yeah? You know my arms are still open to you."

Ex!Gojo doesn't act like an ex at all. He still kisses you. Still hugs you. Invites you for every party. Visits your apartment at 2 AM when he's drunk and rambles to you about all the crazy things he always rambled about at 2 AM. And you don't treat him like an ex because... his kisses put you in a trance. Then you realize oh, we're broken up, what the hell.

Ex!Gojo clings to your body and holds it with the same possessiveness that he always used to. He places his big hand on your hip and grips it tight, especially at parties. "Stay close to me."

Ex!Gojo taunts you during those late-night hatefucks, "You missed this fat cock fucking up your guts, huh? I know you did. Don't you fucking lie to me." while he's balls deep in you, skin slapping loudly against yours in the backseat of his car. He just kindly offered you a drive home, and then one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap having his big hands moving your hips up and down. "That's it, admit how much you missed me 'n bounce on this cock, baby. Admit it."

Ex!Gojo fucks you harder when he's your ex, making sure you're super full and stuffed with his cock. He loves molding your tiny hole to accommodate his shape, hitting your sweet spots with mean pounding thrusts until you scream those three little words for him. "I miss you!" he smiles when he hears this, presses his forehead to yours and coos while cumming inside, "Missed you too, baby. Missed this pussy. You know it's m-mine forever, don't you? No one can fuck you better than I can..." and it's true, no one knows the map of your sweet spots and erogenous zones better than he does. He's masterful at pleasuring you.

Ex!Gojo cums inside you more than he did while you two were dating. Who knows why. Seems like his animalistic, primal brain kicked in and he thought well if I put a baby in you... you'll have a piece of me forever. You'll have to come back to me. And his seed is potent. You bet you're getting pregnant. He has the wolfiest smile when you bitterly show him the pregnancy test. "Ooh, baby I'm so proud of that little pussy for getting pregnant. Let's have a celebratory fuck."

Ex!Gojo knows that no matter where you go, he'll always find you. His high school sweetheart. His five year girlfriend. The mother of his child. The only woman that's ever had such a strong hold on him. The only one he's ever been weakened by.

Ex!Gojo cries sometimes after creaming up inside your pussy, "Please come back... I miss you so bad..." and starts sobbing like a puppy into the crook of your neck when you run your fingers through his snowy hair.

Ex!Gojo feels his broken heart get pieced back together when you finally return to him. And just like that, he slots half his soul into yours. "Baby... you're the best thing this world ever gave me. Just let me marry you, please..."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#🎃 ~ oct. reqs #light angst #smut #mdni #gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x fem reader smut #gojo x fem reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader

[spookysteddie]

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 

… 

You should’ve changed your mind. 

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 

Photos are fine. 

Everyone must be tagged. 

Nothing negative. 

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 

You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 

… 

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 

“‘Precious babies?’” 

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 

So, you do. 

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 

“V-very.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” 

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 

“Oh god! Please.” 

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

[irisintheafterglow]

...but I don't like a gold rush

summary: you're dynamight's publicist and, by some joke by fate, you fell in love with him. you're pissed about it.

wc: 1.3k

cw/tags: swearing, mutual pining, both kats and reader are emotionally constipated, happy ending

note: was listening to a taylor swift love songs playlist on spotify and this popped into my head. short and sweet, hope you like it all my bakugirlies <3 will be back to your regularly scheduled programming of jjk angst and jackals crack shortly

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

"this is a disgusting feeling and i hate it. how do i get rid of it?"

"you're in love, babe. there is no 'getting rid of it' unless you find someone else to hyper-fixate on," your best friend reminds you and you groan out of frustration for the millionth time. "might i suggest deku? or maybe shoto? if you want a smoking hot pro, he's definitely not the only one around." her mouth quirks teasingly and you half-heartedly chuck a pillow in her direction.

"he's the only one i want, though, and that's the fucking problem," you lament, "it's so embarrassing."

"have you considered the possibility that he might be interested in you, too? you're already around him 24/7." you bark out a humorless laugh. what a joke. the words "bakugo katsuki" and "reciprocating feelings" did not belong in the same sentence.

"i'm his publicist. it's my job to be around him 24/7." she shrugs indifferently and gives you a skeptical look that makes your face heat up. "am i out of my mind? falling in love with a coworker?"

"considering that your coworker declined the 'sexiest hero alive' award three times now, it's not that far-fetched," she admits and it makes your stomach feel even more queasy. your unease must have finally gotten through to her as she sits up from her bed and determinedly meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "look. any man worth talking to will pass out when he sees you in that," she states, gesturing at the modest but elegant dress covering your body. "if bakugo doesn't realize how much of a catch you are, then you shouldn't waste another breath in his direction."

the sentiment was easier said than done, unfortunately.

the only thought in your mind was him, from the moment the car picked you up from your friend's apartment to stepping onto the carpet of the awards show. crowds of eager fans cheer when you open the door, shouting your name and recognizing you as the brain behind their favorite hero's appearances. you flip a switch in your head, instantly becoming the professional that reassures the cameras and politely answers interviewers' questions. eventually, in what feels like no time at all, the unmarked limo carrying the man you were stupidly in love with pulls into the roundabout drop-off. you try your hardest to keep your composure as his friends exit the vehicle: mina in her sparkly pink gown, deku in his sleek green suit, kirishima in a sheer top that leaves no chiseled muscle uncovered. your breath catches in your throat when he's the last to appear and the frantic screams of the fans fade to nothing when his eyes search the chaos and zero in on you.

"you're late," you say quietly when he's within earshot and he huffs an incredulous laugh.

"and you're stunning," he replies without missing a beat. you don't miss the way his gaze rakes over your body and you despise the way he instantly can set your face on fire. his casual flirting infuriated you to no end, especially when he spoke in that low tone that should only be reserved for...private activities.

"if you think flattery will save you from a lecture, you're deeply mistaken," you force out and pray that he can't hear the waver in your voice. the butterflies in your gut feel like a flock of unruly pigeons. "but, that'll have to wait for after the show. you've got cameras just up ahead."

"this is fucking exhausting," he grunts and you can't help the chuckle that leaves your lips. bright red eyes flick over to you and you swear you can see a cocky glint in them.

"you just got here."

"and? i'm only here for as long as you want to be here," he says and it makes your legs gelatinous. "say the word and we're leaving. no questions asked."

"you're the one who's getting awards tonight," you point out, trying to ignore the way your body naturally gravitated toward his until you were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder in the crowd. at some point, his arm stations itself to float just above your waist, creating a larger bubble for you to breathe without making contact with your body. "you don't wanna stick around to receive them?"

"nah." he shakes his head and waves his other hand in carefree dismissal. "i know that anything i say will just get me in trouble later." his mouth becomes a smirk and you catch him winking at you before making his way toward the flashing lights and calls of his name. you wait patiently for him to finish posing for the insatiable paparazzi, occasionally walking out to fix his collar or brush a strand of hair from his forehead. the burn of his stare doesn't go unnoticed when you're right in front of him, fixing a button on his shirt.

"stop looking at me like that," you mutter and he flashes a sharp tooth in amusement. he knew what he was doing to you; it was impossible for him not to know from the way your hands shook on his collar.

"i wasn't kidding when i said you looked stunning, sweetheart," he murmurs and you have to blink a few times to fix the short circuit in your brain. "you ever gonna tell me how you feel or am i just gonna keep making advances to a brick wall?"

"you have absolutely no concept of-"

"publicist, get out of the way!" you both stiffen and you futilely shake your head the tiniest bit. he doesn't hesitate, and his hand gently pushes you out of the light so he can properly yell at whoever dares to tell you what to do. unlike most of his outbursts, though, his use of profanity and insults toward one's mother was kept to a minimum; it made the true attacks of undermining the reporter's professionalism even sweeter.

"and just for the record," he concludes, "i do whatever they tell me to do, so don't think you can disrespect them and get away with it, 'cause that's never gonna fucking happen. got it?" the shocked reporters nod meekly and bakugo unceremoniously exits the photo area, returning to your side like nothing happened. "i'm sorry about them."

"you shouldn't have done that."

"you're gonna lecture me for defending you?"

"no, not that. the thing you said before we got interrupted," you say, your voice barely a whisper that only he can hear. "about making advances toward a brick wall."

"you mad that i compared you to a brick wall? because it really does seem like that sometimes-"

"no, you idiot." you finally turn to face him and pull him into a quiet corner. "i'm upset because, if this is a joke, it's not funny." he gapes at you for a few seconds, as if he couldn't comprehend what you just said.

"you think," he says slowly, "that i'm joking about liking you." you nod in assent and he drags his hand down his face. you can already hear the protests of his makeup artist, but you don't really care right now. "alright, fine. maybe i'm the idiot in this situation."

"what do you mean?"

"i like you, stupid, and i'm not kidding." his words sounded like they were foreign on his tongue like it was hard for him to voice his feelings aloud. "you deal with my bullshit and you're so fucking pretty, i wanna pass out. get it?"

"mhmm," you hum dumbly, still processing what he was saying. some part of you still was saying that it was a sick joke, but the way his eyes soften when you finally look up at him confirms all that you need to know. bakugo katsuki was irrevocably, uncontrollably in love with you.

and it surprised him just as much as it did you.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #katuski bakugo x reader #katuski bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you

[mari-the-bimbo]

What do you think about pumpkin carving with bodyguard!Megumi? I can picture reader making a mess with pumpkin guts, and Megumi secretly hates the mess but loves reader too much to ruin their fun.

Bodyguard Megumi: pumpkin carving

A/N: oof it’s been a while since I posted some Megumi content hope you enjoy! 💗

It didn’t take much convincing to make your sorcerer fiancé to join you for pumpkin carving, but that’s probably because he’s the biggest simp ever.

Megumi’s dark piercing eyes continuously flicker to your hand holding the knife, trying his best not to be overprotective but it’s second nature, so he fails easily. “Be careful with the knife y/n” he mutters.

You giggle when you turn your attention towards him only to find he’s just shamelessly staring at you now, which was something you were already used to though.

“I’m fine Megumi, stop being such a worry wart!”

“I’m not” Megumi states firmly, but it’s hard to believe that.

He turns his attention back to the pumpkin in front of him momentarily but he made no move to carve it, after all, he wasn’t interested in pumpkin carving, he was interested in you.

He silently turns his attention back to you, eyebrows furrowing when he’s realised the mess you’ve made with the pumpkin guts. “Stop making a mess you silly girl” he scolds half heartedly, pinching your cheek before the lovesick sorcerer cleans up your mess.

You open your mouth to retort but instead you decided to tease your lover just a little, makes things more fun right?

You grab some of the pumpkin guts and throw it towards him, the orange pulp landing on his pale hands. His head immediately turns towards you, shooting you an unimpressed glare with an eyebrow raised.

“Oi-“

“Whoopsie! Sorry gumi, just helping you clean the mess” you say with a cheeky smile which seemed a bit too mischievous to be innocent.

He’s frowning but it became a bit too hard to keep his resolve as he notices you bite your pretty plush lips to prevent yourself from laughing. God, you’re so fucking cute even when you’re being a gremlin.

“You think you’re so fucking funny don’t you?” he asks, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You gleam in pride at his words, “thats because I am the funniest gumi”, flipping your hair to add emphasis. His fingers impulsively reach out to play with the ends of your hair.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah” You say unable to fight off your smile.

Megumi flashes a smile back, before speaking “only thing funny about you is the pumpkin guts stuck to your chin”

Your eyes widen as your hands immediately fumble around your chin, trying to wipe off any excess. And in your hurry, you miss the handsome smirk on Megumi’s face as he watches you.

“Here let me help you” he offers.

But as his veiny hands grabs your chin, you gasp as he pushes it upwards and presses himself against your lips instead. You’re surprised but you kiss back until you both pull away for air.

“Gotcha”

“Perv” you huff.

He chuckles while he leans back and puts his hands back in his pocket. He hides half his face back in his jumper to hide his smile as usual.

“You liar, I never had anything stuck to my chin” you say with a pout, now leaning forward and pressing yourself on his muscular chest.

“You lie all the time” he retorts as his arms snake around your waist to help you into his lap.

“Not true! I only lie about my grades!” You admit, as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

“Mhm sure” he says dryly as he feeds you some of the pumpkin pulp. Smiling at you as you munch on it like a chipmunk.

“Cutie” he mutters as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips.

#megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi x reader #jjk megumi x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk hcs #megumi fluff #megumi hcs #megumi fanfic

[sarcasticlcves]

Dating The TVDU Women Includes

Katherine Pierce:

You knowing her since 1491

Katherine turning you into a vampire, so you could both be together "forever"

Her being severely protective over you

Stefan and Damon going after you to get to her

You and Katherine both being chased by Klaus for 500 some years

Being shocked when Nadia (Katherine's daughter) shows up looking for Katherine

Comforting Kath when Nadia gets bitten by Tyler and is slowly dying

Both of you being stabbed with the traveler knife and dying together

A/n~ I cried making this one. I miss my bby Kathy 😭💔

Hayley Marshall:

You being a werewolf/witch hybrid

Klaus threatening you to not hurt his little or littlest wolf or you won't be able to see the light of day again

Being a stepmom/mentor to Hope

"When I said give it your all and punch me in the stomach, I didn't actually mean it Hope!" "Sorry mama..."

Being besties with Rebekah and Freya

Hayley being super cuddley

Her being super protective of you. Even going as far as to threaten Klaus and Elijah

"If I hear that you two idiots lay a single finger on y/n, I will personally bite your heads off! Got it?!"

*Klaus and Elijah nodding, scared for their fucking lives* "we got it" "we won't touch her, we promise"

Being present when Hayley throws herself and Greta into the burning sun

Despising Elijah after that day and never forgiving him (I hated Elijah after that. I don't care if he didn't have his memories or what)

Only staying in the Mikaelson family compound for Hope's sake

When Klaus died, you adopted Hope and moved to mystic falls so she could enroll in the Salvatore school

Raising Hope because you knew that's what Hayley would want for her

Hope Mikaelson:

Being a Tribrid like Hope

Knowing her since you both were little kids

Hope being very closed off and distant with you at first

Her slowly opening up and being more vulnerable with you as time passes

Hope being a very affectionate person behind closed doors

Hope being super overprotective

This bby also gets very jealous very quick

You being best friends with Lizzie and Hope despising your guys friendship

Dark! Tribrid! Hope Mikaelson:

When Hope goes full dark Tribrid, you were by her side through all of it

Even when she snapped Lizzie's neck right infront of you

When Lizzie got sired to Hope you got jealous and protective reallll quick

You even went as far as to kill your own girlfriend to break the bond between them both

And let's just say Hope was not happy when she woke up...

"You killed me because you were jealous?! Fine, let's see how you like getting your neck broken"

After all the arguing you two weren't on the best terms

Hope distanced herself from you a lot and her trust in you went to 0%

Yeah, I wouldn't recommend dating dark! Tribrid! Hope and pissing her off...

Lizzie Saltzman:

Being a Tribrid

Lizzie siphoning from you a lot

You being very protective of this sweet, sensitive little baby

You helping her through her episodes

Being present when Lizzie wakes up and turns into a Heretic

You having to teach Lizzie everything she could possibly know about vampires

Lizzie being very clingy and vulnerable with you

Going on a rampage when you find out Lizzie was sired to Hope

"I swear I will gut you like a fish Mikaelson!"

"Baby...calm down please.."

Hope knowing to not mess with Lizzie while your around

Jade Salvatore:

You and Jade both being stuck in the prison world together

Her humanity flickering when she's around you

She's VERY possessive

Not to mention jealous

You despising Kai Parker

"Oh, would ya look at that. I get to gut you again today"

"Well shit-"

A/n~ i didn't really have many idea's for Jade, so this was all I could come up with

#katherine pierce x reader #katherine pierce #hayley marshall x reader #hayley marshall #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson #lizzie saltzman x reader #lizzie saltzman #jade salvatore x reader #jade salvatore

[cockslutpadalecki]

Come Around Sundown

Summary: What happens at Christmas is never just a one time thing, and when summer break rolls around, you find yourself repeating past mistakes. Or is it a mistake?

Characters: Tattooed!DBF!Steve x F!Reader.

Words: 2.3K.

Warnings: age gap relationship, use of pet name (little mouse), explicit sexual content, mention of previous sexual encounter (oral sex— fem receiving), reader is in her 20s, Steve being covered in tattoos, female masturbation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), cream pie, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: Inspired solely of the manip of Chris used above in the header which I promptly lost my shit at. It’s all thanks to @sweeterthanthis​ 💖 And thanks to @randomagnes0210​ for creating the best manip ever. Beta: @princessmisery666​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

“Hey Little Mouse,” a familiar voice teases from beside you, “almost didn’t see you sneakin’ around there.”

You flash a small smile at your dad’s best friend, Steve, hating how forced it feels pinching at your lips, hoping he can’t see the strain of it in your cheeks. Your gut twists, warming at the sound of the deep gravelled baritone. You’ve loved the nickname ever since he coined it for you, but right up until six months ago, it’s since evolved into a point of reluctant appetency when it comes hand in hand with the man who gave it meaning. 

A sweet, playful name that used to symbolise your meek and quiet nature. Now it represents something far more licentious, and you can tell by the way the epithet leaves his lips that he’s aroused by the association. 

The attractive woman standing alongside him gives you a clipped grin, not really knowing how to react to the exchange between you. Her presence sets you on edge, and you almost feel like he’s brought her here just to fuck with you. 

Well, it’s working. 

Trying to create some distance, you wander over to the kitchen island. Your gaze travels over the bottles of your parents’ alcohol collection, and knowing which to avoid after replacing most of them with water a long time ago, you smile to yourself.

The first time you tried the vodka with your best friend Trini, you were both violently sick the morning after. And the headache lasted for what felt like days. 

“Something funny, Little Mouse?” Steve asks curiously.

Finally glancing up, your eyes catch purest sapphire. The smirk on his lips makes warmth pool in the cradle of your pelvis. Deep-seated heat that could— can— easily bring you to your knees. You try to keep his stare, but your eyes are drawn to the open v of his shirt, showing off his tattooed covered chest.

“Why’d you call her little mouse?” The brunette tersely pipes up between you. Like she’s pissed off you have a nickname and she doesn’t. 

Steve finally looks towards his date. “This is George’s kid,” he explains like he’s talking to a five year old. She nods as if she knows who George is, but you can tell she doesn’t from the befuddled expression on her beyond pretty face. “She used to be such a shy little thing.” He glances back at you, lips threatening a fresh yet menacing smile.

Used to. 

She seems to accept the explanation without the need for more depth. You’re grateful. You don’t want her knowing the reason you’re no longer shy, or how Steve is privy to such private information. 

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” he continues softly, ignoring his date. “Your folks sure missed you over spring break. I know I did.” The way he stares you down both unnerves and arouses you.

“I had too much studying to do,” comes your clipped reply.

He narrows his eyes at that, completely unconvinced by the lie, but you remain stoic. He doesn’t have to know that you spent spring break with your roommate and her friends, or that the real reason you didn’t want to be here was because you knew he would be.

It’s hard to avoid Steve at the best of times, however since the incident at Christmas, he seems to be around more than usual. 

His existence is a constant reminder of what it felt like to have his face buried between your thighs— his beard both scratchy and comforting as his tongue lapped at you, humming against your clit.

The warmth in your gut starts to stir as he moves around the island, coming to face you over the sea of bottles. You try to keep his gaze, but you’re distracted by the sight of his thick fingers gliding over the polished marble. And it conjures up the memory of all the time he spent tracing delicate patterns across your skin, like he was painting a plethora of invisible tattoos to match the everlasting artwork adorning his. 

“Uh, this tastes disgusting,” Steve’s date suddenly spits, effectively ending your daydream. You look towards her a little confused until you spot the open bottle of vodka in front of her and have to stifle a giggle. 

”I’m so sorry, let me get rid of that,” you mumble. “Must have gone off.” You take the bottle away from her with an overly faux grin, thankful to be given an excuse to get away from Steve.

-

You manage to avoid Steve for the majority of the afternoon and late into evening just as the crickets start to sing. You’re grateful for your parents seemingly inviting half the neighborhood, making it easy to blend in and hide when you need to, but after a while you get curious, wondering if he’s still around.

You search the house, your hopes slowly dwindling as you go from room to room without any sign of him. Your heart sinks at the possibility that he left hours ago with his date, no doubt showing her just how talented he is with his tongue. Envy nips at your heels, threatening to discolor your thoughts when you finally spot him in the garden, laying on one of the sun loungers. 

He stares mindlessly up into the darkening sky that swallows up the fringes of pinks and reds painting the western horizon. Every few minutes or so, he brings a bottle of beer to his mouth and you find yourself daydreaming about how it would taste to lick the alcohol right off his lips. 

“Hey honey, you alright out here? It’s gettin’ a little cold,” your dad’s sudden voice says from behind you. You turn, giving him a small smile as he rubs his hands up and down your bare arms, no doubt feeling the flourish of goose flesh prickling up over your skin. “Want me to fetch you a jacket?” 

“I’m fine,” you return softly. 

“Okay,” he leans in, giving your hair a kiss, “we’ll be inside.” Dad squeezes your arm gently before letting go and disappears back into the house. This should be your sign to follow him, but your feet are firmly planted to the floor. 

Before you know it, your feet are moving— but not in the direction of the house. Maybe it’s the few vodka sodas that’s giving you the liquid courage to approach him, or perhaps, deep down, you want his attention. 

Eventually you reach him, pausing briefly as Steve looks up at you. As he silently returns his gaze to the ground, you step around the sun lounger beside him and smooth out the skirt of your dress before taking a seat. 

“Where’d your friend go?” you ask softly. 

Steve sighs a little. “She left.” He doesn’t sound particularly upset by the notion. 

“Oh.” 

“Don’t think she liked you very much,” Steve chuckles, taking another swig of beer as he stares up at the dusky sky. 

Your brow furrows. “Why?” 

“Kept making snide comments about you whenever she could,” he shrugs. “I told her to go if she was gonna spend the night insulting you.”

Your heart constricts in your chest at that and sudden guilt pulls at you. You’ve been cold towards him all evening, and he’s been nothing but courteous, even going as far as defending you against his best chance to get laid tonight. 

“Thank you,” you squeak. Just like a mouse. 

He turns his head to face you— a gentle tender look that sets your skin ablaze, and smiles softly. “No need.”

Returning it, you remain with your eyes locked until you feel a familiar warmth creeping up your back. You shift against the sun lounger uncomfortably before hurrying to stand. Brushing out the creases in your skirt, you’re desperate to give your hands something to do, besides grab hold of Steve and kiss him again. 

You turn to leave, but the rapid way in which Steve moves to a sitting position, combined with the feel of his fingers around your wrist stops you in your tracks. Your stomach twists when your eyes catch his once more. 

“Stay,” he asks of you. You’re distracted temporarily as he places down the empty beer bottle between his spread legs.

“I shouldn’t,” you reply when he glances back up.

“Why not?”

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time we ended up alone together?”

Without warning, he tugs on your wrist, and pulls you onto his lap, whispering with a deep husk, “Of course I do.”

You swallow deeply before quickly turning around to make sure nobody can see you in such a compromising position. You’re so far away from the house that the spotlights don’t reach this distance, the blanket of night slowly swallowing you as the sun sets. 

“Look at me.” 

You obey without a word.

“I think about it every fuckin’ day,” he admits quietly, letting go of your wrist and drapes his heavily tattooed hand across your bare thigh. His other hand slides around to the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer. “I never wanna wash the taste of you off my tongue.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and unconsciously, you roll your hips, grinding down hard into his crotch. Steve hisses through gritted teeth as you do so, his grip tightening around your neck and thigh. 

“Shouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” you tease, bearing down even harder as heat blooms beneath your cheeks with delight. You feel Steve react, pushing back against you as the bulge of his cock brushes your clothed sex.

“Because I’m this close to pullin’ your panties to the side and makin’ you ride me for real.” His lips brush yours and you let out a squeak. “There’s my little mouse,” he adds with a chuckle, finally pressing a kiss to your mouth. He tastes of whiskey and bad decisions, but you’re addicted.

You curse under your breath when he pulls away, his hand climbing higher up your thigh until it disappears beneath your dress entirely. His fingers tease the edge of your underwear, hooking them under the material to caress your skin as his thumb glides over the top of the fabric, spreading your folds apart. When he reaches your clit, you moan into his open mouth, quietly begging him to “do it.”

Steve tugs your panties to one side and sinks his fingers into your velvety heat— one at first, then two. With whispered praise and encouragement, he manages to stretch you out to three— gaping and dripping all over his fancy dress pants. You’re on the cusp of coming when he snatches his fingers away and wraps his arms around you, pulling you with him as he lays back on the chair, knees propped up behind you.  

There’s a quick scramble as he fingers open his zipper, and you feel his thick veiny cock spring up between your thighs. And even though dusk has fallen, and he’s nothing more than a hazy shadow beneath you, you’ve never been able to see him more clearly. 

You work in sync, your bodies in tune as he coaxes you, with a hand under your ass, to lift yourself up. He drags the tip of his cock through your puffy folds— up and down, up and down— until you’re pushing against his hand, desperate to feel him inside you. He laughs gently through the darkness— a low echoing chuckle which slowly morphs into a groan as he finally allows you to get what you want. He slips into you with ease, your greedy wetness swallowing him inch by eager inch until he’s buried up to the root. 

You sit motionless for a moment, enjoying the feel of him swelling and twitching inside you, but impatience takes over quickly and you begin to rock back and forth. Steve plants his hands on your hips, helping to guide you back down onto his cock when you rise up. You place yours on his chest, and hard steel melts beneath your touch. Slowly you ride him, wanting to feel every ridge and imperfection in his cock perfectly fill you to your limit. 

You can tell he likes it. The muffled moans and under the breath expletives keep you in the moment, feeling pride swell thick in your chest. One of his hands moves from your hips to your neck, he pulls you roughly in to meet his lips with yours while he continues to groan against your tongue. 

“Fuck, you have no clue what you do to me,” Steve mutters between kisses as you lift your hips, letting his cock slip out to your entrance.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” You sink back down on him and the word, “fuck,” is sudden and hot on your cheek.

Steve soon takes over— fucking you long and slow, hard and fast— until your gut is tightening to the point where you’re not sure you can hold it anymore. Every thrust of his hips sends you careening further and further towards euphoria, and then you’re shattering into a thousand rapturous pieces. 

-

Your thighs still damp, you slink back inside the house. Steve is close behind, his hand hovering over the small of your back. You want his touch back on your skin— crave it like a high, but you know that you’ll only be able to take a hit in secret. As you enter the lounge, he hangs back, waiting a beat before following you in. 

“Oh, there you are,” Dad laughs when he spots you. “We were about to send for a search party.”

Steve perches on the arm of the couch before leaning forward to scoop some dip onto his index finger. The same finger that had been inside you. 

“Sorry, we lost track of time,” he replies, sucking the dip from his finger just as your eyes meet. “Me and Little Mouse were too busy catchin’ up.”

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel​ @broadwaybabe18​ @captain-asguard​ @chamberofsloths​ @cevansgurl​ @dreamlessinparis​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @hurricanerin​ @jvstjewels @kellhems​ @la-cey @ladybug05​ @livstilinski​ @ladydmalfoy @mugi-chwan95​ @navybrat817​ @otomefromtheheart​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @patzammit​ @rebel-stardust​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @sammykb1994​ @syrenavenger​ @straywords​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @sunwardsss​ @selfsun​ @threeminutesoflife​ @vicmc624​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @xoxonotme​

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @chibijusstuff​ @callsignrambam​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @deangirl93 @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @labella420​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2writes​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @roxyfan14-blog @sage-writing​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

[wildesqdreams]

sick in love

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

pairing - vinnie hacker x female!reader

a/n: kinda hate this, kinda don't. kinda disgusting, kinda cute. but anyways i'm sick, so this came to mind, hope you'll enjoy it even a little bit.

y/n's eyes opened as she heard her doorbell ringing. she closed them. the girl didn't have any strength to get up, since she had been vomiting all night, and finally had fallen asleep.

but as the girl thought the ringing would stop, she suddenly heard knocking with a voice, "y/n?! hellooo, please, open up... y/n/n?"

y/n sighed, as she got up.

she couldn't just ignore her boyfriend, especially when she heard his worried voice. the girl walked to the door, resting her hand on her stomach, as it hurt, from the vomiting.

she opened the door and saw the boy in front of her, "vinnie, what are you doing here?" y/n quietly asked.

"what am i doing here?!" vinnie answered frustrated, as he walked in, "you should have been at the house an hour ago," his voice raised a little, "and where the fuck is your phone?! you haven't answered my calls or texts."

the girl closed the door and turned to face vinnie.

slight panic was visible in his eyes and y/n mentally cursed herself for not giving him a text, about her not being able to stay with him for the weekend.

as she opened her mouth to say something, she felt the sickness come up, and she rushed to the bathroom, crouching down in front of the toilet.

soon vinnie's hand was felt on her back, while he gathered her hair away from her face, "hey, it's okay."

vomiting never came easy for y/n. so she felt horrible when her boyfriend needed to hear the sounds, coming from her. but his hand rubbing gently and soothingly on her back, made the girl relax a bit.

when she was done, y/n flushed the toilet and turned her head to vinnie, "i have been up since 4 am, vomiting my guts out, and i'm sorr-"

"hey, hey there's no need to be," she felt vinnie wipe the few tears away from her eyes, "i understand, it's gonna be alright," he pressed a kiss to her forehead, "wait-"

"what?" her eyes met vinnie's, as he pulled back and intensely looked at her. but when y/n saw vinnie's eyes flick to her stomach, she understood what he was about to ask.

"are you-"

"no, vinnie," she chuckled, "i'm not pregnant, just caught a virus, some kind."

"okay," he nodded, "well, then," he grabbed his phone from his sweatpants pocket, "i'm gonna text jack that i'm staying with you, and we're gonna go get some sleep," and with that said he sent his text and looked at the girl with a loving smile that made her heart melt.

vinnie got up and helped y/n just for him to put his hands behind her thighs, so he could lift her up. she wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck. the girl felt three kisses being placed on her neck, as she was carried to her bedroom.

the boy gently put her in the bed as she got under the sheets, him immediately joining her.

y/n snuggled closer to vinnie, as he put his hand over her waist, "i've really missed this... feels like forever since i've seen you."

the couple didn't live together. and since y/n studied in university, they didn't see each other so much, only on the weekends. but even those were sometimes spent apart, when the boy was traveling or the girl was studying.

"umm, actually i wanted to talk about something with you."

y/n hummed.

"well, i was thinking, maybe you would want to come live with me?"

the girl immediately pushed back and lifted her head, as she looked at her boyfriend, "you serious?"

she felt him put a strand of hair behind her ear, "yeah, i've already talked to the boys and they love the idea and that way we wouldn't have to spend so much time away from each other... so what you say?"

"i would love to," she smiled.

vinnie's lip corners lifted as he kissed her forehead.

y/n rested her head back against his chest, as the boy pulled her closer, "i love you."

"i love you too."

taglist: @willowpains @ellajjade21 @ilovejjmaybank @hallecarey1

#vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fic #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie x y/n #vinnie x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie fic #vinnie fanfic #vinnie fluff #vinnie blurb #vhackerr

[thewriterg]

𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐭

pairing(s); jj maybank x male!reader,

summary; from chasing gold, running from authority, and having having more near death experiences than you should at your age you and jj was as thick as thieves it was unfortunate that he couldn’t quite fully commit to you or his true current self —kinktober day; 25—

word count; 800+

warning(s); smut, kisses, hickeys, angst, homophobe luke maybank, hoping for the impossible, you both are 18 🤸🏾‍♀️, and language

A/n:—GIFs; @fdastory & @sarahmichellesgellar— I missed a day so two fics today because I’m quite literally getting over a concussion 💀 (GIFs do not determine race of r)

It was sacred to say the least, but that’s what it should’ve been. It’s what it was at the end of the day How could you be explain JJ Maybank to someone who’d never faced him before in less than three words it was simple; loyal, curious, and the love of your life

until he wasn’t

The blondes on top of you prepping kisses down your neck occasionally leaving a bruise that would darken by the morning time when the sun came up allowing the bloomed ladybugs and butterflies in your stomach time to rest from their continuous flying and fluttering, to give your lively heart a break from its abnormal accelerating while it beats against your ribs in your chest it’s gonna beat out, it’s gonna rip out your skin and jump into his hands while he will stares down at it and you wait to see if he’ll engulf it into him accept it as a part of him, or if he would drop it in disgust.

“You’re so pretty baby… such a pretty boy, my pretty boy” JJ whispers while you’re groaning at the phrase the sound of your pleasure going straight down to his cock that was buried into you the own head of your length red and angry looking leaking pre cum from your slit your warm walls are wrapped around him mixed cum rimmed around both of your stretched holes a reminder how you absolutely rocked his shit fucked him like you hated his guts until the very end until it was his turn to bring you back down to earth with his slow and deep thrust that edged the tip of your prostate

“F-fuck, don’t talk like that or I’m g’nna cum” You were panting out of breath like a dog in heat and the pale skinned boy could feel your erection lying flat against his stomach while he was atop of your figure when he felt the flat of your palms pressed against him fondling his ass in your hold mirroring your wolf like grin stomach dropping before picking up again until you begin to feel your chords chip off piece by piece indicating you were close and you could tell the blonde was too by his sudden needs to be vocal while his hip stuttered there rut into you causing you to move your fingers up the bottom half of his lower body those blue eyes that reflected the Ocean nowhere to be seen while he tucked his face in your neck hiding in your warmth needy voices that demanded your attention traveling right up to your ear drum while you took control of the blondes hips grinding him against yourself goosebumps the sizes of dimes appearing on your skin until you felt hot ropes shooting up into you and with a clenched of your hole your cum covered the blondes stomach

You both sat there panting making no mover to get up anytime soon you press a kiss to JJs grown out mane stray pieces of hair sticking to his sleek covered forehead while he didn’t same to you neck occasionally running his teeth over your pulse point making you shiver while his cock was plunged into you locking in his cum that had yet to spill from your depth basking in the peaceful comforting silence until you heard the front door swing open and JJ felt how you tensed under him and he moved barely an inch to lie his head on your chest it made you deflate just a little yet it was enough for him

“JJ!” The rough voice of his father carried through the house and he squeezed his eyes shut before yelling back a sound of acknowledgement the drunk mumbling about his footsteps rummaging around the house until they stopped abruptly probably when he crashed on the couch you try not to smile at him overcoming it by not hiding you going to kiss his pink plump lips but of course, a second spoke too soon.

“We can’t” He grumbled getting up from his position on top of you to sit beside you and you sat up suit your arms resting on your knees as you sight turned gaze fixed to him

“Why not?” It was a true, honest, question you had why couldn’t you kiss outside of having sex why could he tell Luke to go fuck himself on anything other he had negative to say or tried to put input on a decision in his life yet went hush puppy when it came to you it made you sick as you watched those piercing electric orbs stare into you

“I wish you were a girl”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify

Took me like 3 years to fully commit and stop being a pussy to writing a male reader

#🦇𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑;𝐆 #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x male reader #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #outer banks smut #obx smut #spooktober #kinktober #angstober #flufftober #male!reader #angst #smut #lgbtq #romance #i love you #thewriterg #2023

[xbalayage]

I WILL GO ON A WHOLE RANT ABOUT SILVIO.

Yes, he's an asshole at first, but if you give his route a chance, you see underneath all that hard exterior and everything that led for him to act and be that way in the first place. He isn't actually like that at all inside!! He cares so much and so fucking deeply; someone who actually hates his brother wouldn't have looked for him non-stop for three years. Or have gotten him matching gold earrings that Rio and him both still wear!! They have a 'I hate your guts, but I'd do anything for you' relationship. They're brothers. He was abused by the king several times physically and literally tortured and the queen both mentally and physically fucked up his views on things. Rio's mother was the only one that showed him love and understanding and even tried protecting Rio and his mother. He had to provide for himself when he was a KID. He didn't even get to have a childhood! Their brother is a psychopath who tried killing Rio and putting the blame on Silvio which the king's dumb ass believed! Because he hates Silvio! And through his route, he goes through such character development. Even to the point he finally decides to open up and be vulnerable with MC. He knew from the beginning that she was Belle and yet, still protected her and went through extra tribulations just to protect her. He actually doesn't even care for the glitz and glam! He wears all the fancy shit he does because it shows his wealth and power to other people so nobody fucks with him! This boy has gone so long without physical touch and someone who actually wants to see good for him that he pushes any and everybody away, for their sake! He says the opposite of what he means! He uses excuses to make up for his actions. Yes, he blamed Rio a lot through his route and pinned it all on that he just wants to annoy and take everything away from him that's his but in truth, he was trying to portray himself as The Bad Guy to keep himself from acknowledging his true feelings for both MC and his brother.

I probably missed A LOT because I'm just writing this at once on my phone but PLEASE give this boy a chance. He just wants to be loved and doesn't fully understand how to even do that. Money is all he's ever known that's been consistent and has gotten him everything he's ever wanted and needed. Now, he meets a woman with a pure heart, he finds his brother again and all he wants to do is protect them, even if that means he fails.

Silvio's character, in my unbiased opinion, story is so good once you get down to the nitty gritty of the core of his character, the relationships he's been around, the role he's played for years, and finally coming to terms that it's okay to be vulnerable and be loved.

I respect any all who may not like him, but I hope this rant, my entire blog and speaking to me could help you at all to understand and possibly love this puppy as much as I do. I love you all. <3

#spoilers #rant #silvio #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #ikemen prince silvio #ikepri #ikemen prince #ill probably brush up and rewrite this later but i love this man sn #so much #i would die for him

[ronearoundblindly]

The Root Of All Ransom (Finale)

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see previous or series)

Summary: Ransom figures out how to undo his disinheritance.

Warnings for language (I'm never kidding about how many f-bombs this boy drops), smut (blowjob, p in v sex that is consensually unprotected, general smuttery), vague contemplations of murder but we ain't going the canon route. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty else for you to read on my Light Masterlist. This is not your story!

I have somehow managed to put Ransom Drysdale deep in his feels. This is only OOC if you haven't read up to this point, but we do end on a soft!Ransom note. WC 6954 (oh my fucking wat???)

Ransom huffs out a foggy breath in the night air, cold in more ways than one. All the windows glow from the mansion, yet it looks completely different in light of what Harlan’s done.

Thrombey Manor is his birthright. He doesn’t love the architecture or the eccentric layout. He hates the furniture. He’s never really enjoyed anything about the place. It’s the polar opposite of his own house, but it was his in a way, part of his status, part of his baseline of existence. He’s not prepared for any other eventuality. Ransom built his life on a perfectly stable bridge that some idiot just blew up with C4.

No, no, not some idiot. His own family. The only member of his family he would think could never do this to him. Fuck Harlan.

Ran’s been flying high on a lie, and the magic money carpet’s been ripped away.

He has one lifeline, one option he’s grasping onto.

If he can manage this, nothing will change. He won’t lose the allowance. He won’t lose you. You’ll never know how unworthy he is. He can just have everything and never speak of this again.

Harlan. Marta. Inheritance. Killing two birds with one liquid stone.

Ran could do it. He will do it, but you cannot know. He can’t have you around. He has to push, to start giving you a safe distance, to leave you plausible deniability. If you suspect, you’ll leave him anyway. 

If he succeeds, worst case? He’s rich and alone. If he does nothing? He’ll be poor and alone.

One of those scenarios used to be acceptable, but not now, not anymore.

Pushing you away tonight might be the last time you ever look at him without pity, and he’s not ready for how heavy that sits in his roiling gut. He has to though. He has to make you leave, if only for the rest of the night—but it might be forever, his brain reminds him. Fucker. It’s not like Ran’s pleasant to be around. Getting away from him shouldn’t be a hard sell.

When you emerge from the house, however, what he hoped would sound sharp and dismissive sounds oddly open-ended.

“You could just walk from here,” he tries wishfully.

True to form, beautiful, pissed-off you sidesteps his expectations.

You take his coat, your coat, and the Birkin to the passenger’s side with a ferocious look.

“Get in the car,” you manage through tight lips.

Fuck. He misses you already. He hasn’t given up. He won’t, but his center of gravity is gone. He’s reeling from this.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale revolves around money.

His whole life he has stretched wide and greedy limbs to capture numbered, green rays of meaning. He hasn’t only lost the light of his sun now. No. Nuclear winter has just stripped him bare and knocked him on his ass. Ran cannot articulate all the reasons he’s so upset.

He values you and him together for relatively selfish reasons. From all he’s seen, you don’t need any more people in your life that exist so far below you. You don’t need ‘help.’ You need an equal, a free and independent equal. Ran isn’t even fucking close anymore.

With a stroke of a pen, he’s now dependent. It’s pathetic. If he stays without even the means to be your not-quite-equal, then he’s everything he hates. He’ll be clingy. He’ll be needy. He’ll be in the way. He’ll finally do it; he will annoy you.

He will bore you.

What a fucking world.

You snap him out of his dashboard stare.

“Do you want to talk about it now or at home?”

“Neither,” he quips easily. “I’ll drop you at the Carlyle’s.”

His eye twitches at his faux pas. You don’t have to correct him. He knows it’s your place, your name, your property, and your right to claim. He doesn’t need reminding.

His key twists in the ignition just as your hand comes up to his shoulder.

He can’t even glare at you properly because a tap rings off his window pane. Both of you jump in alarm because night fell hours ago. Who sneaks up on a car in the fucking dark?

Ran’s father is fucking who. Of course. The window peels down, and Ransom feels as if the last seconds of his life are draining away after the plug’s been pulled.

“Trouble in paradise, you two?” Dick asks with cheeky concern.

“No, Mister Drysdale,” you say politely, no hint of insincerity in your smile.

“Richard, please, honey. You’re practically family.”

Smug asshole, do NOT call her ‘honey.’

“Eat shit,” Ransom mutters overly loud again, but your sudden slow grip on his kneecap tells him to behave. Ol’ Dick has no right to call you ‘honey’ though. Ran’s not even sure what he’s allowed to call you, and he’s pissed, sure. He’s…something else, too; he’s obedient beneath your hand.

Richard ignores Ran’s attitude. “Listen, son, I just wanted you to know that whatever happens, your mother and I will always love you. In case…ya know, in case you ever doubted, and…well, we’re family. We stick together.” He even gives Ran a squeeze on the shoulder for emphasis.

Ransom has no fucking clue what his father intends with that entirely useless statement but doesn’t fucking care. “You know what?” He’s about to lunge out the window to choke that fucking prick. “Definitely eat shit.”

Your grip tightens, and Ran’s insides clench, knowing he toes a line.

“We should really go,” you add with a now painful, strained civility.

“Okay, you crazy kids,” Richard pats his heavy hand on the door frame. “Thanks for coming to the party and we’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Of course, Richard.”

Ransom rolls the window back up without looking at you. That sure as shit was not his father’s reaction to Harlan throwing millions at Marta fucking Candelabra. He can’t be near these people anymore, so Ran slams his foot on the gas, peeling out of the driveway, and scattering gravel in his wake.

Your sigh releases with the pressure on his knee. “I suspect it’s about his affair.”

As if that narrows it down. “Which one?”

“The first one as far as your grandpa knows,” you snort, “which hopefully Linda buys too from the way you’ve talked about it. Jesus, really? Slow down!”

Ran doesn’t want to slow down. The car is finally catching up to his racing thoughts and a plan coalescing. If Harlan knows about Richard’s affair, then his mother will absolutely divorce him, leaving Dick with nothing—and if you know that Harlan knows about it then—

“Hugh—” the hand has slid from his knee to his crotch, the heel of your palm gently digging into the stiff fabric of his jeans “—we should have taken care of you before…”

Fuck, that feels good.

You’re right, of course. Ran really should have planned a few minutes of privacy for you both to get off after the airport. Not that it’d have to be private for him (parking lot, terminal, or tarmac—he wouldn’t fucking care), but the thought flashes in his mind like the bright spots behind his eyelids that he might not get to fuck you again. That’s profoundly upsetting, and your grip on the outline of his swelling cock is profoundly distracting.

He swats at your arm, blood rushing to his tension-white knuckles only for a second, but you simply swivel in the seat to change hands, dragging down his zipper.

“Sweetheart“ slips out. Is he allowed to say that anymore? He should still act normal, right? Except he’s been a raging mess for a quarter-hour already and oh fuck. “What are you…”

Ran’s been wrong this whole time: you are a road head bitch.

He’s so taken aback by your spit-slicked lips cooly brushing the head of him that he nearly elbows your spine. The car swerves slightly as he strains to collect himself, to think of just one other thing instead of your fucking tongue sliding down his length to tease at his still-covered balls and—

Mother of fucking mercy, he has to pull over.

Only by some miracle, some blessed (or horrible) gap in his distraction, is he able to consciously choose parking off the lane just beyond the menagerie elephant statue because, otherwise, that pervy-ass groundskeeper could relive his long-forgotten past of grainy porn. Because that’s what this is turning into. Pornographic is the only way to describe the choked grunt Ran finally lets out as he slams on the brake and you snap the car into park just to get the gear shift out of your way.

“I’m only here three days,” you say around a mouthful of cock, bobbing a few more times before switching to your hand. “I’m not letting you ruin it by being fucking baby.”

“I’m not—fuck—“ he’s not expecting you to climb over him in the cramped car “—you don’t understand.”

“So you don’t want me right now?”

He shakes his head furiously, half in hope of collecting genuine thought, half in desperation for you to continue.

Space is so limited between Ran’s body and the steering column that your bent knees pin his arms to the door and the console. It should hurt but fuck if he’s gonna say anything while he watches you peel your panties to the side and line yourself up. 

“Gah, you just—“ he pants as his heart rate spikes. Instead of putting him in you, Ran’s paralyzed to stop two of your fingers from sinking into your soaked pussy. You’re drooling for him, mouth and cunt, and goddamn, he is so torn between pounding you into next week or tossing you out of the car to get on with his plan.

It’s about an 80/20 split in favor of fucking you.

And then he thinks…yeah, he could definitely get off and get you to the Carlyle’s—your place—in time to sneak back. So he just lets go, shoving his face forward to capture your lips, enjoying the wet sounds as you prep for him, and eating up your moans and curses. He knows you’re purposefully dragging your knuckles against his dick as you bring them out with each stroke. Why are you so fucking hot? Why can’t he just have this without Harlan’s help? 

He’s dependent.

Ran realizes he always was, but he fucking hates it.

Removing your fingers makes the bunched-up dress pool over your hips and graze his raging erection. Great, now your spit and his precum are smeared all over your clothes. Normally, that wouldn’t bother him. Normally, that would be even hotter. Now, Ran wonders how much that damn thing costs because he never even looked; he just knew it suited you.

A steady grip at his base and suddenly Ran can’t wonder about any fucking thing under the sun. Your walls welcome him inch by inch like he’s goddamn worthy of that silky squeeze, but he can’t say shit. All he can manage is craning his neck forward to mouth over your nearest breast, arms still pinned. Fuck it. More fluids on the dress. If you don’t care, he doesn’t care. Maybe. Maybe he’ll just care later. Maybe he’ll learn to look at the cost of things. Maybe he won’t have to when he succeeds at fixing this dumpster fire of a situation.

His teeth graze against a barely felt but hard-peaked nipple, and you gasp out another moan. You have to shift to wedge your leg down by his side and repeat with the other one. One of his forearms is tingling, asleep, so he switches his mouth around and uses the functioning arm to play.

You’re moving so slow, too slow.

“You fucking love to mess with me,” Ran growls, all but biting through the layers before yanking at the neckline, savoring the plush skin he exposes. “Love fucking me,” he mutters again.

“Yeah, baby, why do you think that is?” You use the name so condescendingly and roll your hips so deliberately that Ransom bites back a ‘fuck you,’ instead forcing out a strangled whine. You just drag yourself up and down until he answers, pushing his t-shirt and an errant tail of his cardigan out of the way. Your fingers gently scratch the flat plain of his abs.

“Say it.”

He knows the answer. He’s known for a while, but that’s not something Ran’s ever gonna be ready for. It’s just already the truth.

It’s as soft as a hum against your skin.

“Say it, Hugh. Tell me why.”

He can tell by how you’re getting sloppier with your movement, by how hard you grind forward against him, that you’re close.

“Because you love me.” Ran winces at how desperate he sounds. It’s almost a cry, but he can’t really resist repeating it. “You love me.”

Your hands bury in his hair, and he’s literally covered in you while trapped in this fucking steam room of a car. He can’t control anything he’s doing.

“You love me,” he says again.

“Yes.”

“You love me.”

“Fuck, yes, baby.”

You’re fluttering around his cock like a dream, shouting encouragement, and it just slips out.

“I love you.”

He has no idea if you even hear him because you come so hard that your back bends, slamming you against the steering wheel.

The horn blares in the quiet woods.

You wait for him to yank you forward and erupt into sated giggles while Ran is a whole different kind of paralyzed, hiding his face in your chest for as long as you’re simmering without care.

Your fingers card through sweaty hair, your heartbeat slowing more than his does.

“Think you need this,” you say in a breathy whisper. You pull away to cradle his face.

He’s terrified you’re gonna ask. You’re gonna want him to say it again, he thinks, and Ran’s not sure he can with your eyes boring into his, knowing what he knows, being what he is until the will is void.

“I want you to come, Hugh.” Your thumb traces across his bottom lip, gaze following before it flickers back up.

You sound so fucking innocent while your slick is smeared all over his low belly and seeping through his underwear. His boxers are kinda in the way but kinda immovable while in such cramped quarters. Pushed aside, they hinder only as much as your bunched-up panties do. Easy enough to live with.

You keep staring expectantly.

“Do you want me to stop—“ fuck NO “—or will you give me what I want?”

Ran’s whole chest clenches, and it’s only because he slams his mouth to yours that you can’t see his eyes roll in fucking ecstasy. Perfect. You’re goddamn perfect. He couldn’t deny you anything much less this, and he knows that if this is the last time, he has to take advantage.

Sliding down slightly on the seat (because everything operates in centimeters at most this close), he takes two giant handfuls of your ass and spreads you, lifting so he can thrust his hips up at a brutal pace. He doesn’t fucking care if his knees bang against unyielding metal. He doesn’t care that a vein in his neck might snap from strain. He just needs this one thing, and then he’ll let it go. He’ll be ready for whatever outcome Harlan’s death triggers.

Because Ransom needs money. He had money long before he had you. It’s what he needs the most in life. He loves money.

If losing you is what it takes to keep the money…

That’s the thought he can’t finish as control of the urge to come slips from his bruising fingers. His desire for his status quo is faltering. His equilibrium’s changed.

He does love money. He does.

Now, to Ran's surprise, he loves you, and he has no fucking clue how to love both. He doesn’t know if he can keep both.

But friction is friction. He’s surrounded by the feel and sound and smell of sex. It’s familiar and more than a little haunting to him if this is the last time, but Ran crests that mountain before any coherent thoughts form. He can’t trust himself to speak. He might repeat what he never should have said aloud.

The groan when he empties himself inside you is almost pained, swallowed immediately by your adoring and hungry kiss. He’s sweat straight through his t-shirt and his jeans are a fucking mess. Your dress is damp, stained, and wrinkled. You’re practically bonded to the leather seat, but he just absently runs the back of his fingers up and down your thighs while he comes down.

When you release his mouth, your arms settle across his shoulders, and he buries his face in your chest again, hiding, relishing, stalling.

Shit, he’s gonna miss this.

After a minute, you rest your forehead against his and lift your hips until his limp dick slides out of you. Through half-closed eyes Ran watches you bite your bottom lip, gnaw on it like he wants to, like he moves to—

“Is this about the will?”

Ran freezes.

“Did—Harlan told you, didn’t he?”

“WHAT THE SHIT.” Ran’s rage explodes, heaving you off of him and into the passenger’s seat. “YOU FUCKING KNEW?!”

He shoves himself back in his pants and scrambles for the damn zipper.

“Ransom, it’s fine. He just—“

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you warn me? Jesus FUCK.” He’s unlatched and kicked the door open before you even get a word out.

“Harlan is my friend and—“

But he slams it shut, leaving your words muffled while Ran fumes in damp fucking clothes in the frigid air.

His fists almost—almost—pound on the hood of his car as he bites out, “I could have killed him.” 

Ran’s pacing toward the tree line when you finally shuffle from the beamer, pulling your dress back into place.

“Harlan’s my friend and he asked me in confidence if it made sense.”

“I’m sorry, he asked you? As in, my grandfather might not have done this if you hadn’t thrown me under the bus.”

“It wasn’t just about you.”

“It makes sense to leave me destitute? And you knew! You lying bitch,” he growls, immediately wishing the word hadn’t popped out, clawing at his scalp in a punishing attempt to think. “You watched me throw all that fucking money away and didn’t think I deserved to know?!“

“I’ve met you. Why would you listen to me about how to spend your money? That isn’t something you do, Ransom.”

“That’s not the point!” And stop calling me fucking ‘Ransom.’ “I can handle myself.”

“Then I guess your answer is ‘that’s how you spent the money,’ by choice.”

“I wasn’t given a choice. You lied to me. You’re the one who didn’t trust me.”

Your stalk forward in the dry leaves, stopping just outside of arm’s length away. “What the hell did I just say in there, huh? I love you. I said I love you, then you go and call me a bitch, so who’s the liar between us, huh? Who’s got trust issues?”

Ran’s face scrunches in distain. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Guess,” you spit back easily. 

Well, he isn’t fucking saying it now. Fuck you. Fuck this. This is the worst-case scenario: poor and alone because if you know, he can never get away with his plan.

“Why do you always do that?” he growls with a venom that poisons no one but himself. “Why the fuck are you here then?” Why are you with him?

“I’m here to support my piece of shit boyfriend at a piece of shit family event because Hugh asked me to.”

Nope. The right name is wrong. It sounds much worse than he expected.

Ran doesn’t know what to do with all this sick energy churning in his gut except burn through it. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with his life.

“There it is. There’s the truth,” he yells, leaning into your face. “I know it. You know it. This isn’t going to work. We’re not the fucking same. We’re not even close—“

“I don’t want someone the same as me.”

“I’m a useless—”

“Ran.” Your hands fly to gently land on his face.

“—talentless—“

“Seriously, please.”

“—sack of shit and you—“

“HUGH!” The grip at his jaw slips as he jerks back.

Ran tenses, shoving his chilled fingers into his jean pockets, pushing the wet material in front away from his crotch. He goes awkwardly quiet.

Yelling. He remembers the yelling. He’s been comfortable with yelling for longer than he’s been comfortable with affection.

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up.” You cross your arms over you chest and shiver. “This. This bullshit is why I didn’t tell you, but so what? You don’t have your own money. How do you think Harlan and I started out?”

He gives a look that shouts back everything he can’t put into words.

“You’re not useless or talentless. You’re entitled. That’s all, and you can change that state of being pretty fucking easily.”

“How? What am I supposed to do? Be a houseboy who eats you out once a week?”

“A week? Well, I hope I pay better than that.”

“Oh, what the fuck,” he grouches.

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that. “You started these jokes!”

“You don’t have to rub it in—”

“—just rub it out, huh?”

He doesn’t want to laugh. It’s not funny. His fate isn’t a laughing matter, but like everything else tonight, he fucking fails. A smile twitches at his lips.

“Ok, asshole, you want to be useful? How ‘bout driving us home? I’m freezing.”

He starts to protest but is cut off by a flinging arm.

“If you don’t get in this damn car, you will be helping me balance to pee in those woods.”

“Fucking gross,” Ran whines.

“Yeah, well, your ability to self-access is appalling too,” you jovially clap back, “but we’re working with what we’ve got.”

Fair.

Savage but fair.

He frowns and follows you into the car.

You talk his ear off on the way to his house, but he isn’t in the least bit annoyed. He’s engrossed. It’s all a type of flattery Ransom can hardly fathom: honest praise.

“I was miserably alone before you.”

He wouldn’t have pegged that based on how he saw you at all those events, but now that he considers how you’ve opened up about your frustrations and the exhaustion of being the center of attention, it makes sense. Ransom takes attention away from you. He loves that shit. He doesn’t even care if it’s negative attention. Hide behind his broad back and shine that spotlight on him; he’s game.

“You know what people you pay to be around you—people who want something from you don’t do? Argue. No one has a real conversation. No one has an opinion contradictory to yours. No one calls you out on your shit. It’s so…”

“Boring,” he whispers without thinking.

There’s a long pause until you continue softly.

“No one calls me out on my shit except you, only you.“ 

Your hand finds his. Though your skin is cold, he’s warmed by the touch. 

“So no, I don’t think my money will change anything. If money—mine or yours—were going to change you, it would have done it by now. I mean, sure, you could stand to be less of a dick sometimes, but you don’t have to. I already…”

Your voice trails off, and Ran knows. That’s just it. You love him and he’s a dick, the poor asshole who understands what the feeling is, the one who can’t say it, not on purpose, not yet. The tectonic shift in his life’s framework leaves him uneasy. As wonderful as you are, as perfect as this has been, he has to start over.

He has to build himself up from scratch. He’s been transplanted to an alien planet that he doesn’t have the means to make hospitable. Money was his means to everything. Money provided for him. Money protected him. Money separated him from others.

He never had space for two in his now-demolished castle of selfishness.

“I thought I’d be with someone so different from you,” you laugh without heart. “I’m…glad I was wrong.”

All he can manage is a squeeze of your hand.

“But Hugh, you’re proud of my success, not fucking threatened by it. You let me work, but you also know when I need a break and won’t take one. You’re devoted without being smothering because you have your own damn life, things you want to do. You aren’t intimidated by all this shit in my stupid world or the money. You don’t give a fuck what other people say.”

That’s true.

“You make me laugh,” you say quietly, and though he can’t see your face in the dark of the road leading to his neighborhood, he hears your smile. “You asshole.”

As he turns into the driveway, he glances over and winks. “I try my best, sweetheart.”

He watches that throwaway statement melt you, and then he realizes why.

Ransom trying to do absolutely fucking anything is a big fucking deal, and he has tried. He simply has no idea where to go from here.

He turns off the beamer and makes no move to get out.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Your hand releases his to glide up his arm and lace through his hair, lightly rubbing the base of his neck. “Help me,” you breathe.

“How the fuck would I help you?”

“Hugh,” you cock your head to the side, retracting both arms to brush your palms down the fabric of your (ruined) skirt, “you know damn well you’d like to control my whole wardrobe. You would do far better dressing me for all those functions than I do…and undressing me.”

He knows what you’re doing, but instead of smiling or laughing, he tightens his jaw and huffs. “Can I burn some of your—“ he does half air-quotes “—'wardrobe?'”

It’s so hideous. That one black dress you keep fucking wearing? No amount of dry cleaning will make that look new again. That’s getting flambéed.

You purse your lips. “Donate, but yes. I would consider that a huge help.”

“You’re serious.” Ran’s not sure whether he means it as a question or a statement.

“Yes. I am. Thank you for noticing.” You swivel to open the door. “Now, you can also help get my bag in while I use the restroom.”

The dance of readying for bed becomes you pointing out things you have now that you did not have before him. Taste being one of them, Ran thinks to himself. The important thing is he could say that to your face, but he’s strategically not pushing his luck tonight.

It’s true. Nearly every article of clothing and every toiletry now links back to his insistence that you have nice things that are for you, not just for life in general. You come before the rest of the world; you come before your work. That’s his gift. That’s what he’s good at, and you make it clear: you need him for that talent.

All of these nice things, all these reasons he seems good to you, and all this need for him have Ran feeling some sorta way when you crawl into his bed naked and reach to turn off the light.

He grabs your hand before you make it to the switch, forcing it back to the mattress, keeping you facedown. His heated breath and heavy body roll over you, teeth grazing your shoulder and moving slowly to your earlobe.

“You know what else I’m good for?”

His free hand slips between your thighs and finds what slick you couldn’t clean up. The knowledge that some of it is his cum still inside you makes Ran shudder. How would he ever have lived without this?

You sigh, your mouth falling open at the intrusion, and your eyelids flutter closed.

“Fuck,” you moan, high and quiet.

“That’s right, baby,” he hisses, mimicking your condescension from the car. Oh yeah, he’s gonna ruin more than that goddamn dress tonight.

He takes time to torture you with his fingers, his weight rendering you immobile. Ran sweeps falling hair out of your face with free reign to pepper open-mouthed kisses across the stretch of skin he’s claimed since that very first fuck.

You always knew what you wanted. He never thought you’d truly want him, certainly not for more than a day. After tonight, it’s inconceivable you want him still, yet here you are, burying your face in the sheets to muffle little cries as he humps your ass cheek to get harder and harder.

Good god, why do you want him? He fucked around, he yelled at you, he called you horrible names, he left you for weeks at a time in a foreign country alone, and yet you are here.

Then your words spring to mind. He argues with you. He has opinions. He makes you laugh. He treats you like the independent person you are. He treats you like your money doesn’t matter.

Because it didn’t to him.

Ransom realizes now that you treat him as if his money didn’t matter because it doesn’t to you. Nothing changed when you knew he wouldn’t have it anymore. Not a single thing. Somewhere over the last months, Harlan told you his plan, and the only perceptible difference to Ran was you falling in love with him.

Because you love him. He is so grateful he’s almost angry. You could do better. He can give you better.

By the time you come on Ran’s fingers, he’s completely feral thinking about all those little ways you showed your feelings, all the ways you showed him kind touch is not weakness. You also showed him that touch doesn’t have to be weak to be kind. He can be rough with his feelings for you, intense as they are. He can sink his cock into you, practically screaming that he loves you, too, but the words aren’t spoken.

He presses a thick forearm across your back to keep you pinned. He spreads his legs to widen yours. He thrusts in possessive and messy movements. No words escape. His range of motion is limited this way, but he gets all of your glorious noises. They’ve become his favorite sleep track. It’s hard for him to rest without hearing your happy, panicked pleasure beforehand.

You make desperate fists in the sheets and arch your ass up higher. He sees the unnatural strain in your body, all for him, all so he can have just that fucking tiny bit more of you.

He can’t stay in this position forever though. You’ll never come again like this, and he wants to see your face. The car was dark, but the lamp is still on. He can watch you fall apart with him deep inside.

“Turn,” he orders, enjoying how dazed and shaky you are as you struggle to control your muscles.

You’re a sight. Erratic breaths hardly settle your gasps. Pliable and ruined. Torn to whimpering pieces and stitched back together only to be split apart again.

He drinks in his handiwork, climbing slowly between your legs, delicately helping to cross your heels at his ass, and sinking back into your heat slowly, so slowly, like your teasing in the car.

“Hugh,” you mutter, and fuck, he has never heard you beg.

Ransom has always loved sex, but this is different. He meets your glazed eyes with floundering blue depths and wonders why he can’t just enjoy it as basic sex anymore.

He’s always loved money, too, and although he doesn’t want to take it from you, Ran feels the weight of your charity. Money was his sun, his whole world, but it was not enough. You provide more, warmth that lets him spread out in contentment, light that keeps him from withering.

Money doesn’t need his love; it’s indifferent.

You, on the other hand, you are fucking radiant, glowing and hot with his arm tucked beneath your shoulders to grab at your hairline. He makes you look at him. Your fingernails scratch at his back while your hips grind together.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles, nose almost touching yours. “Come on, sweetheart—“ Ran drops to lave kisses down your bared throat “—one more for me.”

This time, you have no words, only grunting uh and hng as he speeds up. Your noises get higher. Ran gets rougher, a brutal rhythm for a brutal realization.

He can’t hold back when he sees you like this; he’s gonna say it.

He gets close, so very close to breaking, but you fall first.

“Please—ah.”

You fucking writhe beneath him, your whole body spasming like your silky pussy ripples over the sensitive skin of his cock.

“That’s it,” he coos in your ear. “That’s right. Good girl.”

He has to chance meeting your eyes because he wants to see you unravel again. Ran always does whatever he wants.

He slows his hips to intermittent thrusts that sizzle your nerves over and over, pulling his arm out from under you to lift your chin. You’re open for him in every sense of the word, and he is fucked in every possible way.

He’s an amoeba of a man staring evolution in the face.

You’re his. It’s clear in the light that he owns you. He’s earned you, or at least, he’s trying to. That’s a big deal for Ransom Drysdale.

Quivering, your mouth hanging open, his thumb rolling over your swollen bottom lip, he gets one word.

“Daddy.”

Barely a whisper, partly a question, but mostly an invitation. He slides his thumb up into your mouth, only letting you suck on it for a moment before it drags out.

Ran never thought you’d ever say that. He never imagined you’d beg either. You’ve always known what you want and taken it. You have never needed anything from him.

“Please,” you say again, holding your mouth wider still.

Shit. He throbs at the prospect, and he’s too far gone to deny you this. He plants one small peck on your jaw before pulling out and clambering over your hips and chest.

“Ah fuck,” he moans when you suck on one of his balls, stroking him with a smooth and firm grip. “Love y—love your mouth…so much.”

Ran leans against his headboard, hand clamped over his trap in a desperate attempt not to blabber, but you continue. You’re in tune with when he’s ready, when you’ve taken the teasing far enough and he needs to come. His hips stutter to shove himself just a little farther down your throat. He collects his wits only enough not to choke you, muffling a cry.

You’re gentle with him as he loses his absolute shit trying to keep it together, thighs shaking, breath hindered, biting the fuck out of his hand.

“Sorry, I…” he tries.

“I…I—“ he tries again.

He just can’t fucking do it.

Ran digs his palms so hard into his eyes he sees stars. His chest is tight like it’ll explode any second. The relief of orgasm has evaporated instantly, and he just really fucking can’t.

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, shifting up onto your kneels behind him, “it’s okay.” Your warm arms encircle his chest, over one shoulder and under the other, and you pull his own pliable and ruined body toward you.

He collapses back on his heels, leaning against you.

“Hugh, it’s alright.” Your whisper makes his eyes sting. “I know.”

Ran raises his arms to hold your wrists. His head drops to kiss the back of your hand. He still stays silent.

“I know…”

Your bare legs stretch across his lap, and Ransom lets the hand warmed by his mug grasp your ankle gently. You’re off in your own mind, staring out the window of his living room, worrying your bottom lip. He watches while you don’t notice.

Ran never particularly liked the unknown, and after Harlan’s shit last night, he’s off surprises for a fucking lifetime. This, however, this with you, sitting in comfortable quiet, makes him feel perfectly at ease with an unsure future.

For someone so fascinating to him, you’re so normal.

Sure, you’re beauty trumps the view outside, you’re dedicated to your work, and you’re smart enough to run circles around anyone, but…

You’re just you, sitting with a hot drink on his couch in the morning, wearing one of his sweaters again. Could be a sixty-dollar sweater from a thrift shop—or six cents for all Ran knows about secondhand sales—or the six-hundred-dollar one that he stoopidly bought three weeks ago; it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing that matters to him now is who wears it. That garment means nothing without you in it.

You sip at your tea, and he follows, staring at you staring at the world.

You two spoke more about it last night in the dark about everything but that one little phrase that’s eating him alive, a tangled mess of yourselves and the sheets. Nothing has to change except where the money comes from. Ran gets what he’s wanted all along: control over your wardrobe and, essentially, your entire presentation to that world you’re staring out into. He is not, however, permitted to burn your favorite Little Black Dress, but for fuck’s sake he’ll get all of its seams checked and the damn thing refitted. He’s hoping if he makes enough fuss, you’ll choose to toss it just to shut him up.

Fucking rules. Ran hates rules. If you kept standards on par with your New Money maybe he’d follow your rules. He’ll get you in the good stuff: the good house with good furniture, the good clothing with good lingerie beneath, right down to the good wash and lotion.

You can keep your perfume. He likes your perfume.

Yes, he’ll get you into what he wants, when he wants, where he wants, and all that implies. Ransom always gets what he wants…because you let him.

It’s remarkable what you let him fucking do, too.

He slides his hand from your ankle to your knee, knocking you out of your reverie just in time for his phone to buzz.

He holds your legs to him while sneaking a glance at the screen. Linda. Fuck no, he’s not answering that. It’s not Sunday and he’s not ditching anything. Fucking wait. Fucking choke for all he cares.

Ran instead sets his nearly empty mug down beside your two phones on the coffee table and curls up in your corner of couch. You open your arms to tuck him into your chest, and sure, it’s cutesy and gross in a way that should make Ran want to gag, but who fucking cares when he’s this comfortable. He plants a kiss right on your nipple through the knit for fun, feeling you shiver, then listens to your heart.

His phone vibrates again, dancing closer to the stoneware he just put down.

His mother’s persistence is as admirable as it is annoying. Predictably, Ran’s bored by her usual shit and ignores it again.

Instead of pushing up his sweater to wrap an arm around your waist though, he shoves his now chilly fingers between your hot thighs and sighs. His ear rings with the airy sound of your laugh through flesh.

Then your phone dings, and he just fucking knows it’s her. His groaned protest goes unheeded as you swap your mug for the device and bring it to you.

Ran snorts, and you smooth your free hand over his hair.

“Hello—“ there are harsh but restrained mumbles but he can’t make out the words “—Linda, why on Earth would I be with a man the night he yelled at me like that?”

Because you love him, Ran thinks, but he hears garbled disappointment from the other end.

“And after how your brother and his wife acted—” more rushed excuses “—I don’t have time to go around looking for your adult baby. I have work to do and a plane to catch.” There’s obvious desperation in Linda’s tone, but you don’t care. “Goodbye.”

You let your phone drop to the rug, carding fingers through his hair before finishing with little scratches. Your nonchalance is still pure honesty. You wouldn’t waste time on him, not if you didn’t want him, and you did not let him speak to you that way for more than three sentences because you knew exactly how to shut him up.

“Vicious little bitch,” you mutter.

And…in all your perfect, honest, niceness, you called his mother a bitch—not to her face but you’ll get there, Ran’s sure.

He fucking loves you. He is really so fucking in love with you that it’s fucking gross. He’s disgusted and doesn’t fucking care.

After a big sigh, your hand finds his between your legs and moves it to cup your sex. “Where were we?”

Ransom shifts up over you at the same time as you slide beneath him on the buttery leather cushions. His wildly true and blue eyes meet yours with stern sincerity.

He’s looking at everything he ever wanted, and it’s not money. There are all sorts of things he can use to survive, loads of things he can replace, an infinite amount to take, but only one you, only one complete package. Not a thing. Not replaceable. Finite. Earned. New. Fascinating. Teasing. Messy. Sexy. A total hardass badass with a great ass.

Ran lays his hand heavier on that thin layer of silk, possession laced in the caress, and the words just flow right out.

“Marry me.”

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

Oh my god, gang, I can't believe I fucking did it. Truly, this fic has been one of the craziest things I've ever attempted, and honestly, I'm so damn proud. I'm proud that I wrote it, I'm proud that it's over, and I'm proud of whatever reception it gets. I murdered my soul for this and am delighted. Thank you all so much for reading!

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #the root of all ransom #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom smut #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fluff

[fairysluna]

aegon angst please im begging on my knees OLEASE OLEASE

this is perfect bc I've been planning on writing an angsty drabble based on this song for so long and i finally got the excuse lol. hope you like it!!🤍

Songfic #6

is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together? So I can love you.

PAIRING – Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader.

TAGS – angst, hurt no comfort, alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of cheating, established relationship, mentions of family issues. if something is missing let me know!!

You saw the clock hanging from the wall, biting your nails and sighing with despair. The feeling in your gut was giving you bad news, and the voice inside your head was trying to convince you to call him one more time with the fanciful idea of him picking up feeding your need to do it. You felt a hole in your belly where your stomach was supposed to be, and your body seemed to be unable to remain still in one place. 

4 am, and the last time you heard about Aegon was when he left the apartment and told you he would come back before midnight, for tomorrow he had a very important job interview early in the morning. Needless to say, he did not keep his word, and when the clock indicated that it was the middle of the night, you found yourself alone in the darkness of the living room, at the verge of tears produced by the worry and anger. Your cellphone remained quiet, no phone calls from him arrived. That only made you angrier, for he did not even think about letting you know whether he was alright or not; he did not even think how you had a sleepless night filled with pure distress due to the unavoidable concern. You called him at least twenty times during the night, and none of your calls were answered; you had already memorized his voice mail recording by heart. 

When the main door opened, your lost eyes found their way to the frame of it, and the first thing you saw was your boyfriend stumbling inside the living room; a green shirt ripped in the neck, leftovers of red lipstick on his neck, chin and cheeks, and sleepy eyes. You were already used to seeing that aspect on him, though you had naively believed that it would stop. But it never stopped. 

“Hello there, beauty,” he greeted you. He dragged his words as if his tongue was as heavy as a rock, holding his body against the door handle.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, you had the intention to scream at him, to yell at his face how much you hated him for doing this to you once again; but nothing would come out, your words would be stuck in the back of your throat, your mind too blurry with disappointment to even think in what to say; so you just stood up, grabbed your phone and left towards the room without uttering a sound. You heard how Aegon closed the door, and how he dragged his feet behind you as he followed you, but you did not even bother to turn around. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, and your heart fell to your stomach as you stopped walking. Once you finally had the courage to turn around to face you looked at him with disdain, as if he was mocking you without shame by asking something so stupidly obvious that it was insulting. 

“It’s 4 am,” you spat, already breathing heavily. “It’s 4 am and you just got home… it’s Tuesday!”

“Oh, Gods, I’m sorry, love…” he muttered, trying to step closer to you but you stepped back, rejecting his touch. “Arryk just got a new job so we went to a bar downtown and celebrated for him.”

“And did you forget that later today you have a job interview?” You reminded him, fuming already with rage burning through your eyes. You were barely able to keep it together, your nose already itching as you saw Aegon widening in surprise by your words. He had forgotten, he always did. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Love, listen-” his hand tried to reach for you once again but you slapped it away from you. 

“No, this is enough, I won’t listen to your pathetic excuses anymore,” you shook your head and your eyes became watery once you noticed the marks of lipstick on his skin. “I’m so tired of being the only one trying to keep us afloat.” 

“That’s a lie…” He accused you, narrowing his eyes. 

“Is it?” You chuckled incredulously, “I’m the one paying the bills, working my ass off so you don’t feel pressure to find a stupid job, but all you do is drink and live as if you were still a fucking teenager!” You raised your voice, making him shrink in his position. He took a step back, looking at you teary eyed. That would always be enough for you to soften to him, but not this time. “You’ve told me multiple times how your grandfather would yell at you to do your shit so I tried to be empathic with you and give you time, but I just-” 

A sob interrupted your words, making you choke in your own sorrow as you covered your mouth and quickly looked away from him. You closed your eyes for an instant and you slightly shook your head, feeling your heart being torn apart by the impact of reality against what used to be a fairytale. A shake breath came from your lips as you wiped your tears away and looked back at Aegon, who was standing as if he was a scolded child waiting to receive his punishment.

Those lilac eyes of him made you remember the beginning of your relationship, before you truly figured Aegon out. The first stages of a relationship were always perfect, relaying on the rush of adrenaline and excitement that a new feeling would provide; but now that it’s been four years, all that magic had vanished… sadly, the love and devotion you had for him was still making your heart beat, which is why it was so hard for you to pronounce the following words,

“I can’t allow myself to love you anymore,” you struggled to say, the sobs that threatened to escape you were making you choke and gulp. “Why can’t you get your shit together? Why can’t you grow up and act like a fucking adult?”

“You know it’s hard for me,” he excused himself, but you sighed. 

“And you think it isn’t hard for me too? I stay awake every night you go out, scared to death. I have two jobs so we can keep this fucking apartment so you don’t go back and live with your parents. Because that’s how much I care about you.”

“And I love you for that.”

“Then fucking prove it to me!” You gave an exasperated yell, “Prove me that you love me! Because lately I feel like you’re saying all these things just because you’re used to them.”

“How?” He asked, “what do you want me to do?”

And there it is, the disappointment crossing your face once again. You could speak to him, scream and yell a bunch of words, but he would never listen. He would always disguise his lack of attention with questions like this, even when you had been screaming the answer to it ever since he stepped into the apartment. 

You did not respond to him; you just shook your head as you made your way to your bag. You grabbed your keys, your phone and your wallet. Aegon frowned after looking at that action, and he tried to follow you around but his feet felt so heavy that he only stumbled in his place. 

“Where are you going?” He demanded an answer, “what are you doing?”

Once again, silence was the answer to his question and his eyes filled with tears followed your frame until you stopped in the middle of the door frame of the room. 

“My love…” he whispered, already feeling himself being sobered up by the anguish he started to feel inside his chest. “Please, don’t. Not you too.”

“You’re losing me, Aegon,” you muttered, loud enough for him to see. “Be aware of that.”

Once you closed the door behind your back, Aegon broke into silent sobs and cries. He had underestimated your limits, stupidly believing that you would always be by his side. Now that he found himself alone in a room filled with memories, the only thing he was able to do was to regret.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jamespotterismydaddy

AEGON TAG LIST — @lovelykhaleesiii @ganymede-princess @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon the elder #hotd aegon #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #house targaryen #modern!au #modern hotd #hotd x reader #hotd au #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #house of the dragon imagine

[sadhours]

scumbag blues • battery acid

gator tillman x f!original character

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+minors dni, unsolicited dick pics/videos, mean texts, drinking, kind of smut??? Gator tries

Daisy’s depressed. She’s been turning away clients left and right. The money from Roy keeps the bills paid but it’s tighter than before and her pops has noticed. Says something about it when Daisy’s cooking him lunch.

“I don’t know why things have taken such a turn, Daisy,” he sounds stressed. “We haven’t had a single guest in two weeks.”

“It’ll turn back around,” she assures him, “always does.”

Her mothers voice rings in her ears. Same mantra about how women have to take care of things. How women have a magic money maker between their legs and they’d be fools not to take advantage.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, she pulls it out and looks down at the notification. Gator. Hasn’t had the guts to block him like she should. She slides it open and is met with a photo of his cock. Hard as hell. He’s on his bed, she can see his cargos bunched up around his ankles and his combat boots. He’s sent You can’t quit me, baby along with the photo and she hates the way it ignites a flame in her stomach. She locks her phone and shoves it back in her pocket, resuming the can of tomato soup she’d been heating up. She wishes Gator would just give it up. There’s plenty of other women for sale in this county. But she knows he likes her. Their sexual chemistry is undeniable. And she’s certain Gator hasn’t been with any other woman. Yet, she doesn’t even know how many men she’s been with. It’s unfair. She can’t quit this. And that’s what Gator deserves, so she’ll have to quit him.

She butters up the bread for grilled cheeses, determined to get out of this funk and start taking clients again. Her mother would tell her she’s pathetic. Gator’s always been a client, he started out as such and it’d be laughable to think they could be more. It’s a god damn pipe dream and they both know it.

—

When Daisy reads his message but doesn’t respond, Gator gets furious but his cock is still hard. The arousal mixed with the anger facilitates in a bit of harassment on his end. He records himself jacking off, mumbles about how he knows she wants him. How she’s gonna watch it later and play with her pretty pussy. Which he fully believes. Records himself cumming, muttering, “Wish I was cumming in your tight hole, baby.”

Again, Daisy opens the messages and doesn’t respond. And now that Gator’s cock is softening, the anger takes over and he sends a handful of messages.

Whatever, bitch. Ur not even pretty. Just fucking easy.

Ur used up.

Probably should get tested. God knows ur fckn infected. Nasty slut.

Fuck u bitch

Then, Gator realizes these won’t help his case in any way so he sends another.

I’m sorry. Just miss u and I ain’t good at controlling my temper

The last message never delivers and Gator’s feeling like a pathetic loser with his cum drying on his stomach. Cleans himself up and grabs his keys. He needs to get as drunk as humanly possible. Fuck, he doesn’t care that it’s only noon. This pit of dread filling him needs to be released and alcohol can dull it. The Esquire Club opens at 10 am. He’ll be with like minded company. And well, if it’s two blocks from the Inn, that’s just a coincidence. He isn’t hoping that Daisy’ll wander in desperate for money. Definitely not.

The place is dead when he gets there aside from a couple of dudes rambling about sports. Gator doesn’t keep up with football anymore. Too bitter about high school. He would’ve been scouted, out of this shithole and never would’ve touched Daisy Way if that prick hadn’t busted his ankle. Swears if he ever sees that fucker again, he’ll kill him.

The hours drone on, Gator filling his belly with cheap whiskey and countless beers. Is absolutely stumbling around when the sun goes down. There’s girls in here tonight. Ones that know Gator’s the sheriff’s son, girls that touch his biceps and ask if he’s ever had to shoot anyone. He tells grandiose stories, fibbing on the extremities. Yeah, he sees a ton of action. Yeah, Gator’s a fucking badass. He’s a fucking winner.

He gets one of the girls in the bathroom, a brunette with heavy makeup and a short skirt. Has her leg propped up on the graffitied toilet. Limp dick in his hand as he tugs it, pleading internally for it to fill out but it just fucking won’t. He knows it’s the whiskey, his whole body is fucking numb. But he can’t help but think that if this were Daisy bent over for him, he’d be hard as a rock. It’s pathetic and it’s weird, but he grabs hold of the girl's hair and tugs her head back so he can grunt into her ear.

“You want me to fuck you, Daisy? Huh?” he laughs, “Want me to stretch you out so bad?”

“My names not Daisy?” the girl replies, confusion dripping in her voice.

“Shh,” he hisses, pulling on his cock and focusing on the fantasy, trying to will his dick to life. Nothing. He balls his fist up and slams it against the stall, “Fuck!”

He shoves his flaccid length back into his cargos and barrels out of there. Leaving the girl stunned and exposed. He’s a fucking loser. If he goes by the Inn, it’ll be pummeled into his head what a fucking loser he is. Somehow, he winds up at Faye’s apartment building. Hits the buzzer. Over and over until he hears her sleepy voice.

“Who is it?”

“Faye, it’s me— er,” he hiccups, “Gator. Can I come up?”

“Gator, it’s the middle of the night,” she sighs, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please,” he whines, hates how pathetic he sounds, “I have nowhere else to go. I won’t be fucking weird. Okay? I just… please, Faye.”

A beat of silence. Then the buzz and a green light. Gator tugs the door open and stumbles inside, looking down the hall until a door opens. Faye steps outside, rubbing her eyes and she’s wearing a long, flowy nightgown. She lets him inside and because of his intoxicated state, he clings onto her and fucking cries. Like the pathetic loser he is. But she wraps her arms around him.

“Gator, what happened?”

“I’m… I’m such a fucking loser,” he sobs, “I ruin everything.”

Faye squeezes him tighter, rubs his back soothingly. “Oh, Gator…”

She pulls back and puts her hands on his face, “I’m gonna make some tea. Sit on the couch and we’ll talk about it. Okay?”

She’s so good. So pure. So sweet. Gator hiccups and nods, moving to rub his fists against his teary eyes. Then he trudges to her living room, waiting for her to return.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator x daisy #gator tillman x original character

[statelysapphic]

Letters to Emily

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: When Ian Doyle takes away the one person you love, you find solace in writing her letter.

Warnings: Typical talk of Emily being dead. Hurt. Let me know if I missed something<3

A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a while. I’ve been working on this for a while, and idk how I feel about it. I very lightly edited this. Feedback is appreciated as always. Ao3 Link. Enjoy!<3

July 26, 2011

Emily,

I accepted the job. I’m not sure what would piss you off more though: the fact that it’s a desk job or the fact that it’s in Phoenix and I’m leaving Quantico. Leaving the team. I know you’d tell me that I’m making a huge mistake but it’s just too painful.

JJ brings me coffee every morning, just like you did, and even though I know she means well, it’s a painful reminder that you will never bring me coffee again. When I look up from my desk in the bullpen to see the empty one across from me, I’m reminded that I won’t be able to watch you work anymore. I loved watching you pour over files, watching the gears turn in your head. Putting the pieces together and catching the bad guy. You were brilliant.

Emily paused as her vision blurred, the burning sensation of tears threatening to spill catches her attention and shifts her focus. She was angry. Angry at Doyle for forcing her into this mess. Angry at JJ for not telling her that you transferred. Angry at Hotch for even approving your transfer request. Angry at Derek, Spencer, and Penelope; Did they even try to convince you to stay? She took a deep breath, and then another. As she felt her heart rate return to normal, she wiped the tears away from her cheeks and continued reading.

Everything here is a painful reminder of you. Everything. I walk past a framed photo of you every single day and it guts me. Every single time. I can’t keep doing it, so I’m running. I know you’d be so disappointed in me. Virginia isn’t home without you, Em. It stopped feeling like home when JJ told me you “never made it off the table.” I don’t think I’ll ever find your feeling of home again.

I’m not sure how to tell the team about the transfer. Maybe I’ll buy them a round after this case and break the news to them then. Booze and karaoke should soften them up, right?

I don’t think they’re going to take it well. I just hope they skip the guilt trip.

I hate to end this on a sad note, so I will say that I think Arizona will be good for me. Lots of sunshine and wide open spaces. New people, new experiences. I actually think I’m excited, even though I feel guilty for it. I suppose that will get better with time. I don’t know if I’ve told you this, the one item on my bucket list is to go rockhounding out west. Maybe I’ll treat myself once I get settled.

I miss you so much, Em. But I love you even more. Always.

Emily refolded the letter and slid it back into its envelope. As she placed it on the coffee table in front of her, she finally allowed herself to cry. She had done everything in her power to protect you from Doyle and her past. Although you were physically safe, it was clear from your letters that the emotional toll was severe. She was only about halfway through the stack that she found in your bedside table, and she still had three months worth left to read. She knew she wouldn’t finish by the time you got home, but that was okay.

The raven haired woman sighed, picking up the next letter in the pile.

August 12, 2011

Emmy,

Fuck I miss you today. I wish you would’ve been here to ground me though that. Or kick some ass for me. The movers were nice enough to break my bed frame while bringing it up the stairs and then denied doing it. I watched him drop it, babe. I wasn’t even mad until he denied it. Don’t worry, I called the manager and received a full refund for the trouble.

I wish you were here to cuddle on this couch with me. I miss the way you’d hold me. I felt untouchable when I was in your arms. I think you’d like this new apartment though. The master bedroom has a killer view AND a balcony. It also has plenty of south facing windows for my houseplants, and room for many more. My collection has grown exponentially since you’ve seen it last. As odd as it sounds, they’ve helped me through this.

Sorry for the short letter today. Who knew moving halfway across the country would be so tiring? Could’ve fooled me. I love you, Emily. Always.

Emily chuckled lightly at your sarcasm, but soon felt the tears return.

Sadness began to fade within Emily, and anxiety soon took its place. She was unsure of how you would react when you came home after a long day at work to find your not-actually-dead partner sitting in your living room, reading your private letters, no less. Sure, they were technically addressed to her, but she knows you never thought anyone would read them. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to do this, but Emily vehemently rejected all help that the team offered. Hotch offered to call your Supervisor to have them sit you down to talk you through it. JJ nearly begged Emily to help in some capacity, already feeling immense guilt over the situation. Though, she almost let Rossi accompany her when he offered, and she was beginning to regret not doing so.

The regret faded almost instantly as Emily heard a key in the front door. Her heart rate increased and her chest became tight. The reality of the situation had settled in for Emily, and the uncertainty was paralyzing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a sorry attempt to calm her nerves, as she braced herself to face you. She heard the door shut, followed by footsteps that grew louder and louder until there was silence. Emily didn’t dare look up. Even as she heard the loud clatter of what she assumed were your keys colliding with the hardwood apartment floor.

“E… Emmy?”

~

#emily prentiss x reader #wlwfic #wlw fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[ghostiiess]

[NSB HEADCANONS] - regie's reactions when he saw you crying in the bathroom

pov: the title say everything (other title: hate comments from the stars directed to you)

warnings: feelind sad, mention of hateful comments, headcanon about online hate, mention of swears here and there, mention of crying and hating ourselves, mention of gaining weight or losing weight (regie is saying he would still love y/n whatever the weight they have. BTW, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Do not change for others people.)

type: comfort

member: regie macalino

reblogs and likes are very appreciated!

please, if you know someone, or live this situation, please do not keep it to yourself. you do not deserve this. if you don't feel to talk or don't know what to say / who to tell, my dms are always open and i put some websites at the end of the post :)

So regie just finished his job with the boys

And like he usually do when he have time (and when he’s available), he visit you at your apartment

Today, without really knowing why, he missed you more than the usual

He always miss you when he’s at work

(More under the cut!)

But today?

Damn.

He was like “damn i hope she’s okay” and “i hope she’s smiling right now”

like he was just having gut feelings that you weren't 100% okay? if i can say it like that?

So when his work got done, he quickly went to your apartment

and saw your car was there, which made him happy bc he really wanted to see you! and your car were there, so it probably meant that you were here

He rang on your appartment’s number door ring and got no response

He trust you with all his heart, but tonight, he felt like something wasn’t good

Like if it was his guts saying something to him

Obviously, regie had the key to enter, but he didn’t want to enter just like that

He wanted you to know he was going to come in to see you

He quickly got a text from you, saying you weren’t feeling great, which made regie’s worrying even worse

“What’s up bby? Do u need smth?” Regie quickly texted back

When he didn’t got no response, regie quickly took his key and texted he was going to see u

When he stepped into your apartment, and closed the main door, regie’s voice went all around the house

“Hey baby, it’s me! are you there?”

Ofc, you were there.

He knew it. But he wanted to hear your voice.

But, he didn’t.

Now, he was starting to feel a bit nervous.

You didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to talk or text… it wasn’t really you to do that kind of thing

For sure, when you had bad days, you were feeling not very.. social, but never you were acting like this

And regie knew it.

Regie quietly walking in your appartment and knocked on your bedroom door before open it

“Baby?”

"Ayo? Are you dead or what?" he jokingly said (not funny)

When he saw you, in your bed, the phone’s in your hand and your cheeks all wet, his heart started beating so fast

He thought his heart was going to get out of his chest

"fuck..."

“Baby? Are you good? What happened?”

You didn’t reply

“Baby… i hate seeing you like this, you know that.. what’s up? Did someone said something? Istg if someone did, imma beat their ass so hard bruh. No ones disrespect my baby.”

You shook you head

“Do you want to talk about it? Do you want me to leave you alone?”

You nodded

“You said yes bc you want to talk about it, or because you want me to leave you alone?”

When you said “first option” with your tired, and sad voice, his heart broke

“Omg, baby… shhh it’s okay, i am here. Im not going anywhere”

He layed on the bed, next to you and quietly stroke your hair

“Talk when you’re ready, my love. I’m here. And if you do not want to talk about it, then that’s fine too. I can just stroke your hair and tells you about my day if thats what you want”

He kissed your cheeks and your nose “you do what you want, okay? im here for you”

When you started talking, and couldn’t talk without letting some tears rolling down your face, his heart broke even more

“Shhh… it’s okay, try to breathe in and out, okay? You can do it, take your time”

When you finally explained the whole situation, he thought his heart was going to die

yes his heart did live a lot of thing-BUT YKWIM

His fans (the stars) were making fun of you on your social medias

"they did WHAT"

"WDYM IT'S OKAY??? its not!! omg, why didnt you tell me?"

"baby, omg... im so so sorry"

“Please, do not hate yourself. You are so amazing and so hardworking. You're so beautiful and so talented, i have no words to say how perfect you are to me”

“You’re always thinking of others before yourself, you always make sure that everyone’s okay, and you always find compassion and respect in people who clearly don’t deserve you”

he started having tears in his eyes

“ you are perfect, just the way you are.”

But you just couldn’t keep it in yourself anymore, it was too hard :((

“Baby, show me your phone, please. I need to see these”

“I am so sorry, my love. I am so so so sorry you had to live this and hide it from me…”

He stroke your cheek

“Why did you hide it from me…? I feel so bad, baby.”

“Baby, i would have care! I'm your boyfriend, you're my girlfriend! I do have a busy schedule, but I’ll always make time for you. Always.”

He sighed

“I always try to make time for you as much as i can, please do not think that your problems are bothering me. We are dating. Your problems are my problems too. You can’t hold everything on your shoulder and expect you to not fall. You need another person to help you holding all the problems off your shoulders and that person is me, okay, baby?”

When he went on his social medias, he blocked *each* star on the platforms

literally.

he also wrote on his social medias’ stories:

“Jsyk, if you can’t love my partner or at least respecting them by not writing hateful comments about them, please, stop following me. I would not accept any form of irrespect about me and the people im close to, even more if its about my wonderful partner. Do not write any hateful comments about my partner saying how’s they’re ugly or how they don’t deserve me (which is isnt true btw). If i ever see others comments like this ever again, you will be blocked. Me n the guys respect you, so we expect the same things coming towards you stars. I hope i won’t have to say it again, thank you.”

Let’s say that most of the comments about regie’s stories were like “omg, how dare some stars say hateful comments to y/n??” Or “istg, some stars really do not deserve the guys and y/n.”

“If it ever start again baby, please let me know. I won’t let my own fans treat you this way, okay?” Regie said while kissing your cheek

“I love you so much and nothing will change that. You are perfect the way you are, and even if you gained weight, or lost weight, or were looking like another person, or things like that, you’d still have my heart. you're so beautiful and no ones should decide how you dress and how you eat.”

Please, trust regie when he say things like that, you are so precious and so beautiful, like just look at you now, you are so cute and so pretty and beautiful and so cool

You are so stunning, like whoever write comments about you are so dumb, like idk what they are doing, but they are dumb, you look like a supermodel babe

Who’s Bella hadid? Idk, i only know you

PLEASE READ THIS:

Please, if you are in a situation like this or know someone in this situation, please talk about it to someone. A lot of ressources (such as 7cup who’s a website that can help you telling your problems or situations to random people. its totally free!) are there to help you. I am here too if you guys need something. Although, i am not a specialist and a therapist, i am always willing to listen and help you guys!

Please, do not keep this for you, this is not okay. If you can’t find someone to talk to, or feel too shy to talk about it, or can't find / afford a therapist, go on character.ai (or any other app, idk the names) and search for therapist ai in the search bar. It might sound weird, but it could (maybe) help you, since you are not talking to an irl person and it allow you to vent and be listened without having to feel ashamed if the person behind the screen judge you or not. (AI are not real therapist. do not consider every things the AI says. It's only a solution and can't be remplaced with real professionnals.)

Taglist! (Open! Send an ask if you’d like to be in it!) : @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0 @yawnzzznnn @ghostyycat7

Bold can’t be tagged.

#ghostiiess #nsb #northstarboys #north star boys #headcanon #headcanons #nsbheadcanons #northstarboys x reader #northstarboys x female reader #northstarboys x you #nsb x you #nsb x female reader #nsb x reader #nsb headcanons #regie macalino #regiemacalino #macalino regie #please reblog #reblogs really help

[mushroom-witch-writes]

Act Like You Forgot

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader 18+

pt.1

Warnings: smut, swearing, fwb, angst(?)

Genre: smut, enemies to lovers, fwb

Summary: you and Eddie hated each other's guts, being the sub in their D&D session helped you talk about something that's been bugging you for a long time.

a/n: I have to start posting more, this is a start. Hope you like <3 also FIRST SMUUUUT WOOO

Word count : 2.046

Eddie Munson. You could swear this kid’s life purpose was to make your days insufferable, but things weren’t always this way. Most of the time you and Eddie would ignore each other’s existence in school. You both had the same style , same movies and music preferences ,but found yourselves in different groups. All was fine until that god forsaken day. The cafeteria incident as you and your friends called it. Eddie had made another one of his famous speeches and you couldn’t help but talk back. “right, so whoever doesn’t enjoy the same things as you is lame, right Munson? Yea I’m sure you’ll get much more acceptance now.” You had said and Eddie felt threatened by his own ‘kind’ at that moment or whatever. He would make comments when he saw you on the hallway , always making sure you heard and you would snap back immediately, never missing the opportunity to shut him up.

You worked at the family video in the afternoons so you ,Steve and Robin had gotten pretty close which of course meant that you had befriended the kids that followed them everywhere as well. Once you walked in for your shift that afternoon your friends gave each other a knowing look as you stormed around the place looking like a crazy person. “okay what did he say this ti-“ Steve started ,but you cut him off “ He called ME, ME of all people, a fucking POSER. Like , what the fuck Munson, look at yourself, with your long ass hair and all the band patches. Wonder if he even listens to them.” They both laughed at you “don’t laugh he’s fucking annoying as shit” “his long curly hair and soft smile and ringed fingers ,that Munson?” Robin said half laughing. You had said those things, but you were drunk and it was before he became THIS annoying. “yea yea Robin, that one. And by the way I don’t stand by those words anymore” Steve then chimed in “is that why you keep looking at him in awe every time?” you shot him a glare “shut up Harrington”. They started laughing again. Some time passed and suddenly the two shits burst into the store. “ y/n!” Dustin yelled “ I’m not here,  fuck off ,no “ “ y/n please he will kill us, we just need a sub” you came out of the counter and folded your arms “ What’s in it for me?” he smiled “You’ll get to play after a long time and if we win you’ll have something to tease him about , please pleeeease” you looked at mike and he gave you a smile “fine”. You hated the fact that you accepted ,but what else could you do. Dustin was right, it would be fun beating Munson at his own game.

Friday came and you got ready. Picked the too shits from their places and headed to school. You regret saying yes the moment you walked in the hall. They opened the door and motioned you in. “what’s this?” Eddie said half laughing when you walked in “she’s the sub” Dusting smiled and Munson started laughing “absolutely not ,forget it” you sighted “what’s up Munson? Afraid you’ll lose?” he came closer. You could smell cheap cologne and cigarettes on him “no no my dearest y/n. I’m just scared that you’ll spoil our night” he said  smirking and bending down to your level “look , I’m doing this for the kids, if you want me to go I will ,just make something up so they won’t be too disappointed. I don’t want to deal with this today.” You whispered and his face softened. “ Let’s see if you can even get close to beating me. Welcome to Hellfire” he smiled and gave you his hand to shake. The session went on for about one hour and ended with success. Everyone cheered for you and hugged each other “ told you we’d beat him” Dustin yelled excited. “yea yea it was fun. Now, time to head back yea?” you said and they frowned “I can take them” Jeff said “oh , uh sure yea, thanks” you replied and started organizing your stuff in your backpack while they left “you actually care about the shits huh?” Eddie said behind you in a low voice. “why wouldn’t I ? besides, you should have seen their pouty faces. Not even you would be able to refuse.” He looked at you puzzled “ not even me?” “oh you know heartless and mean and basically a major asshole” he touched his chest as if he got hurt by your words “how could you say something like that about me y/n?” truth is , you and Eddie had history, even if you both pretended you forgot. You and him had been in a party once ,one thing led to the other and before you knew you were bent over the bathroom sink looking at yourself getting absolutely destroyed by him. You blamed it on the drinks and the weed and never really talked about it. Well , you tried talking about it , but he pretended to be clueless so you dropped it. You zoned out while looking at him because of the image that popped in your head.” y/n, hellooo” he waved his hand in your face “sorry, yea , it’s pretty easy to say such things about you Munson, given the fact that they’re true” now he looked actually hurt. “oh, y/n all these days I was just playing along, I don’t actually hate you” you huffed and looked at your feet “ no I know, but I should hate you. I’m going, it was fun” you said leaving the class and walking in the empty school to your car. How could he not remember. Sure you were tipsy ,but you drank just as much as he did. Steve and Robin had told you not to pay too much attention to it. You couldn’t. It’s been almost a month and you couldn’t get his image out of your head or the way he made you feel that night. That was maybe what made you turn around and walk back into the class. “hey, I can’t keep this inside anymore ,we need to talk” you said when you walked in and he just dropped his things and sat on the table facing you “ we can talk” you walked closer “ I know you said you don’t remember anything about that night at Rick’s, but I do and I can’t seem to get it off my mind no matter how hard I try” he looked down ,he knew you’d bring it up again. “ why can’t you just leave things be? We were drunk and we fucked” this man had a talent pissing you off “ so that was it, you just got horny and thought I look desperate enough so why not ?” he got up and walked around not looking at you “ y/n we just fucked, I don’t like you and I know for a fact that you don’t like me. We both needed a warm body, that’s all” you stared at him with tears threatening to spill. You were tough, not tough enough to just stand there and hear him talk about you like you were nothing but a way to blow off steam. “ I was too drunk and made a mistake” he said.

A couple of tears slid down your face “so I was just a warm body to you. You know what my mistake was Eddie? My mistake was not being drunk enough. If I was maybe I wouldn’t remember and it would be best for both of us. Also fuck you Munson because you are an asshole, the biggest one of them all. Congrats !” you said fully crying now and wishing you never told him anything. You stormed off not caring about the fact that he just saw you cry for him.

The whole ride home all you could think about was how much you hated your self for not hating him. Once you got to your place you dropped your bag on the floor next to your door and headed upstairs to your room. You’d normally lock your door so your family wouldn’t burst in , but they weren’t home. You got undressed and curled up in a little ball on your bed ,crying your eyes out and feeling embarrassed for even thinking he would ever care. Time passed and you had fallen asleep naked. A soft knock on your window woke you. For your own sake your curtains were closed and behind them you could make out a long haired figure with a leather jacket. ‘is that man serious?’ you shot up and wrapped a sheet around your bare figure before drawing the curtains and opening the window “ what the fuck do you want psycho?” you asked looking at him wide eyed. “ I fucked up, I – we need to talk ,for real this time” he said and you sat away form the window letting him in. he jumped on your bed after taking his boots off and throwing them on your floor. Why would you even give him a chance to speak after everything he’s said? Oh yea, because you couldn’t resist this boy and the effect his eyes and words had on you “what is it Eddie?” you asked rubbing your eyes and yawing. He wasn’t talking , he couldn’t talk. He had just realised that you were standing on your bed with him with just sheets covering your naked body, the one he had tattooed  in his mind, the one that he would see every time he closed his eyes, trying to find some peace. “hey!” you spoke again getting him out of his thoughts “yea sorry , I , uh , I remember everything that happened and I know that I’ve been acting stupid for a month saying I didn’t.” you folded your hands on your chest and looked at him with the most disgusted look you could muster. “also, the only thing I regret about that night was being too drunk and high and not being able to last longer” he joked leaning his head to the side and smiling “ that doesn’t make up for the fact that you used me because you were horny” you replied bitterly and truth is, he didn’t. Every time he saw or even thought about you he would go crazy, even before you and him got intimate. He couldn’t tell you that, he wasn’t the kind of guy to confess his utter admiration and love for you right there and then  and get rejected. Still he wanted to be close, he wanted to be able to talk to you and piss you of , make you smile, worship you, use your beautiful body in any way imaginable and make you come all over him like no guy ever had. “ I know, I also know that you couldn’t keep it in your pants either, well, your torn up fishnet tights or whatever.” He felt himself trailing off in the thought of him tearing up your tights and bending you over. God Eddie felt as if he could listen to the desperate little sounds you made one more time , he would die happy and complete. “my point is , dear y/n , the sex was great and I personally would do it again, no strings attached, no labels and shit. Pure, filthy fucking here and there. What do you say?” your mouth fell slightly open at his words. Not because they socked you or anything ,but because the way he talked about it gave your entire body goosebumps. “no strings no labels?” you asked again and his smile grew “exactly sweetheart” you grinned and rolled your eyes “ I’m afraid you won’t be able to live up to that term Munson, but yea fuck it” he smiled and gave you his hand to shake. He held it for a little longer and you could feel this simple touch do things to your mind, things you had promised your self you wouldn’t allow to feel for him again.

_______________🍄✨🌼_________________

Pt2 coming soon <3

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