could i request mean!ellie fucking you with her strap while wearing a suit? including a daddy kink if possible 🎀
mine
dark! mafia ellie x fem! reader
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, mean and dark ellie, jealousy, death of a second character, ellie commits murder, begging, guns, strap on! sex (r receiving), teasing, ellie being a menace, rough fucking, daddy kink, praise kink, praising, ass smacking, cum eating, use of good girl…
okay but what about mafia! ellie pissed the fuck off ‘cause one of her allies couldn’t just stay the fuck away from you during the mafia dinner; complimenting you, touching your hair, your dress. so she just had to show the motherfucker his place, and you, yours.
“you enjoyed it, huh? enjoyed the attention?” she groaned, her hips harshly smacking your ass as she pistoned into you, fucking your absolute brains out. “enjoyed that fucker gushing for you?!”
“n-no, daddy! i swear!” you cried out, your perfectly manicured nails digging on her desks wood, in which she had bent you over before dicking you down.
you whimpered at the sting of her hand landing on your ass in a harsh smack.
“it didn’t look that way to me. do you like it? like it when someone else rather than daddy touches you? you want him to fuck you?”
“no!” you shook your head, stuttering due to her relentless pace.
“louder. say it louder. who do you belong to?”
“to you daddy!”
“whose pussy is this?” another smack. her thrusts were kissing your cervix.
“yours daddy! my pussy is yours!” you babbled in between moans and whimpers.
“fucking right. you’re fucking mine.” she smirked. looking at the man tied to a chair in front of the two of you, muffled, watching. “now say it to him, baby.”
your watery eyes found the man’s, your lips puckering in a moan.
“i’m daddy’s. only daddy’s.” your high pitch voice promised.
“atta girl. that’s daddy’s girl.” you cried at the harsh thrust she gave you, one of her hands —the one that wasn’t forcefully pushing your head down against the wood— found your clit, overstimulating you. “now show him how much does this pussy love my cock baby. cum for me. give him a show before i blow his brains out.” you moaned, crying out ‘daddy, daddy, daddy’s! in between sobs as she ripped out of you an orgasm so big your ears rang and vision went white. “fuuck. good girl baby. soaking my fucking cock.” she chuckled, fucking you through it, watching your cum gather on the silicone. once you were completely fucked out of your mind, she pulled out, drops of cum splattering on her carpet.
she hummed, her hand circling her cock to pump it, your cum slicking her fingers as she made her way towards the man who had dared to touch you, to even breath beside you.
“you see this?” she inquired, bending over the man with her soaking hand showing. she slowly pushed her cum-covered fingers inside her mouth, smirking at the teary eyes of the man who muffled pardons for his life. “mine.” she whispered on his ear, the gun she had extracted out of her leather belt on the other side of the man’s head, against his temple.
that was the last thing he heard, ellie’s piercing eyes the last thing he saw, and the rope against the skin of his wrists and the napkin in his mouth suffocating him the last thing he felt. ‘cause thank god he didn’t felt the piercing of the bullet across his head, blowing up his brains.
ellie didn’t even flinch, wouldn’t even have nightmares about the dying light in his eyes as she saved her gun and made her way towards you once again, taking you in between her arms to pull you away from the body and to guide the two of you towards your room.
“i swear i didn’t mean it daddy. i only love you…” you whispered against her neck, and she hummed, kissing your head.
“i know baby. it was his fault. for touching what’s mine.”
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Feels Like Gold
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, breeding kink, Jake drives a car (the most dangerous situation of all), extremely mild degradation, etc
Okay, in honor of our collective jakedown, I rooted around in my unreleased work and then did a little revamping. This one is for you, @piratejakesgf thank you for your request ❤️ *loosely edited, fair warning
And kisses to @jake-kiszkas-smirk and her brilliant mind for titling this when I was at a loss 💋 xoxo
“Fuck, these are so uncomfortable!” you hiss with exasperation, tugging at the itchy nylon hell encasing your legs.
“Told you not to wear them.” Jake reminds you, flipping on his turn signal before switching lanes, though the freeway is dark and nearly deserted.
“You know how my family is.” you remind him right back, annoyed with his flippant attitude. “If I’d shown up to that wedding in a dress with bare legs I’d have been labeled the whore of the family tree. My branch weighed down with bad choices; exposed skin and a degenerate rockstar on my arm.”
“I mean, to their credit, I actually am a degenerate so they’re just calling ‘em like they see ‘em.” His eyes are locked on the road, but a tiny smirk tells you he’s pleased with his cleverness. “Plus, your aunt tried to fuck me, so you aren’t the only whore in the family.”
An abrupt laugh trills out of you. “Right. Which aunt?”
“Does it matter?” he shrugs. “She told me she slept with Joe Perry and it left her with a taste for guitarists…I told her Perry could suck my dick because I could stomp his riffs any day, but that only turned her on even more.”
“And then what happened?” you giggle, falling into his little pretend world.
“Well,” he sighs wearily, “Promise you won’t be angry with me?”
You’re solemn and stoic, as if this is very serious business, “Scouts honor.”
“Then, I excused myself and wound up fucking your uncle in the bathroom, instead.” he squints at an upcoming exit sign to be sure you’re headed in the right direction, and then settles back into a more relaxed state, wrist guiding the steering wheel casually.
“Was he any good?” you ask, mock sincerity laced through your tone.
“I’ve had better.” He shrugs.
“You’re so stupid.” you shake your head with a doting roll of your eyes, and reach under your dress to roll the torturous hose down and off.
He watches out of the corner of his eye, stealing glances as safely as he can while driving.
“Jesus, they were thigh highs all this time?” he sounds a little like he’s considering jerking the car over onto the shoulder of the highway to drag you into the backseat.
“All this time.” the garment in question lands in his lap.
“Lemme see.” he orders quietly before you have a chance to remove the second.
Up the hem of your dress travels until he can get a good look at the black lace resting at the top of your thigh. “Fuck, pretty girl.”
“You like that?” you tease in a silken voice.
He nods, tightening his grip on the wheel.
You push a little further with, “Are you hard?”
“I’m gonna kick you out of this car and make you walk home.” he lies, reaching out to snap the elastic lace against your skin. “Take this one off, too…it’s doing unspeakable things to me. Especially since you’re only wearing the one. You look sloppy - like I just rocked your shit in the back of a tour bus.”
“Jacob Thomas..” you gasp lightly, as though scandalized “Someone seems a little worked up.”
“I might be, if only I didn’t have such a firm grasp on the power of will, my darling.”
He’s being untruthful, but he does it so elegantly - in that soft, slightly British lilt of his, you decide to grant him a very gracious pass and drop the second into his lap.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Kiszka.” You wiggle your polished toes, enjoying the freedom. “My baby cousin, the one you let dance on your feet? She asked me if you were a pirate.”
This tugs an honest laugh out of his chest…a gorgeous sound that colors your cheeks pink. “You told her yes, I expect?”
You hum in confirmation, “I did. And I told her that you have a special sword with strings on it and it makes beautiful, dark music that people come from far away lands to hear. Just like the sirens in Peter Pan.”
His face visibly softens in the flickers of light shed by the street lamps whipping by. “You always did know how to paint a lovely picture, pretty girl.”
The low purr of the engine lulls your head against the window, but just as your eyes begin to grow heavy, he pulls you back to him with a quiet, “Hey,”
Turning your head against the seat, you study his profile, charting the map of your favorite face, “Yeah?”
”Whose baby was that you were holding? The tiny, tiny one,”
It seems such an odd thing for him to ponder, and you have to mentally sift through the reception a bit, you held a great many babies tonight…it seemed like every cousin and second cousin in attendance was weighed down by a diaper bag stuffed full of diapers and pacifiers.
”The one with the little headband bow-thingy.” He clarifies. “She was so small.”
“My cousin’s. He and his wife’s third in almost as many years. She’s only like a month old and smelled like heaven.” You draw in a breath and wish her silken tufts of hair were still pressed to your cheek, “Why?”
”I don’t know,” you know him well enough to know that’s a damn lie. “I just- I don’t know…do you ever think about it?”
Caught off guard, you opt for a little joke, “Does Jakey have baby fever?”
He smiles, and there is a touch of shyness that lives there, “Shut up. Do you think about it?”
“Do I think about having babies? Well, I-“
He interrupts quickly to set you straight, “Do you think about having babies with me?”
Oh.
Where is he heading with this? Will a bit of honesty scare him? Will it scare you?
Deciding to take the plunge, this is simply a conversation after all, and a subject that he broached to boot, you choose truth. “Yes, I’ve thought about babies with you. Although that whole twin thing is fucking terrifying.”
Again, you joke. Again, he doesn’t take the bait. “Identical twins aren’t hereditary. We’re just an accidental fuck up. When you think about it, what do you think?”
”A lot of things.”
Smoothly, he guides the car onto the off-ramp that leads to home. “Very informative, darling. A veritable treasure trove of information.”
He hasn’t tipped his hand and you aren’t about to let him off so easily. “”Do you think about it?”
”Honestly, not before. I mean, I think about how you’ll look in your wedding dress and if you’ll wear your hair swept up the way I like, and I suppose that’s sort of the same thing. Or headed in the same direction, anyway. But watching you hold that baby tonight…”
Your chest suddenly feels a little tight. You’re touched by his admission.
And how endearing that he wonders how you’ll wear your hair. You reach out and stroke the back of your hand along the cut of his jaw, “When the day comes, I’ll wear it up for you.”
~
Later, he’s draped across the bed watching you glide about the room in your bra and panties. Earrings unfastened and placed gently on your jewelry tray, necklace hung carefully, hair let loose and shaken out at long last.
Hands folded behind his head, he speaks up, breaking the spell you have unknowingly cast over him, “You said ‘a lot of things’. Elaborate.”
You turn, eyes drifting over the king lounging about upon the bed you share, in nothing but the dress pants he hasn’t yet bothered to shed. “What?”
He cocks his chin, summoning your attention further ”Babies. You said you think about a lot of things.”
He looks so fucking sinfully delicious…a sickeningly sweet cake sent from the bewitching trenches of hell to rot your teeth. “The normal things. Baby things.”
The heavy wooden frame creeks quietly as he pulls himself into a sitting position to study your expression, “Liar.”
”Oh, I’m sorry,” you dance around the accusation, “I just happen to be looking at a disgustingly attractive little shit waiting for me to climb into bed beside him. Forgive me for looking flustered.”
”Don’t be coy, darling,” he tsks, clicking his tongue against his perfect teeth. “I can see it written all over your pretty face. You’ve got a secret.”
He’s moving towards the edge of the bed now, drawing you in closer with his devilish stare. “Tell me.”
”I don’t have a secret.” Whose voice is that? Surely it’s much too quiet and meek to be your own.
”Tell the truth.” He hums, a knowing twinkle flashing in his gaze. “What do you think about?”
Your eyes refuse to meet his own as your stomach knots, warm and vibrating. “I guess…sometimes I - sometimes I think about the trying part of it all.”
He’s watching you closely, you can feel it like warm fingers dancing across your blushing skin. “So you think about fucking?”
He almost sounds disappointed. He had expected more judging by your hesitancy to share.
”Well,” your fingers are plucking at the comforter now, rooting out a loose thread to spin around your finger, “Yes, but it’s kind of more than that. I think about you… inside me.”
At last, you peek up at him. He looks curious, as if he can’t quite figure you out. “Why are you being such a little mouse about this?” His palms are cupping your face now, calluses soothing you like a song. “I’m inside you all the time, and I think about it all the time, too.”
Shaking your head gently, you find your footing…at least a smidge, “Not like that. I think about you inside me. The way you would have to be if we were trying.”
Your birth control rendered condoms unnecessary ages ago, yet he has always pulled out - ever cautious and responsible. Confusion is still painted across his features…until it isn’t.
“Oh,” a lascivious grin appears and you long to curl your tongue over his lips, “you fucking filthy little thing.”
In a blink, you’re dragged onto the bed and into his arms, tossed down with your back against the sheets. his body heated and flush against yours.
Mouth suckling and nipping at your throat, he rasps into your skin, “Is that what does it for you? Pretty girl wants my cum?”
Your body’s reaction is visceral, primal, and almost embarrassing. You’re arching away from the mattress, desperate to be even closer than you already are.
“Answer me.” He huffs, sinking a bite into your jaw.
”Yes…” your hands are in his hair, thighs around his waist, “I want it.”
”Say it.” He’s rocking against you now, hard and straining against your panties. “Say what it is that you want. What you think about.”
”I think about you fucking me,” once again, whose shaking voice is that? “I think about the way you sound when you finish, and the way your cock throbs and twitches in your hand, and how it might feel inside me.”
”Keep going.” He orders, soft and wavering in your ear.
”I think about how warm your cum would feel inside of me, and maybe I wouldn’t be able to keep it all in. Maybe it might tickle a little when it leaked out.”
”Fuck, baby…” his hands are everywhere, yanking your breasts from the cups of your bra, winding your panties down your thighs, fingers sinking into your soaking, clenching cunt with a groan that sounds pained.
He seeks out your favorite spot and tucks up into it, wrenching a wanton moan from your lungs “You want me to fill this little pussy up? Keep you dripping wet with me all day long? Fuck baby after baby into you?”
”Jake…” you’re clawing at his bare shoulders, fucking yourself hopelessly against his hand. “More.”
He slips a third finger inside you, “Is that why you get a little whiny when I pull out? My girl wants me to do it inside?”
”More,” you urge through gritted teeth, eyes locked in on his face and the lust so evident in the set of his features.
”You want four?”
”Please, Jake…” tears are threatening at your lash line, “more, more, more,”
“You’re having some trouble listening tonight, aren’t you?” he sounds diabolical, and turned on beyond belief. “I asked you a question.”
His thighs prise your legs open wider as he squeezes his pinky into your warmth to join the rest of his drenched fingers, “Do you want my cum inside you? You want me to give it to you? Keep it all safe and warm for me?”
With a mournful wail you’re reduced to a million little pieces beneath him. Rocking frantically into his touch…the heel of his hand grinding quick circles into your clit as his fingers fuck you through it. He’s covered in you, it rolls down his wrist and beads against his stomach like early morning dew, anointing him as you thrash and writhe like a beautiful, fluttering leaf in an autumn wind.
When the hazy fog clears, allowing your sight, it’s his face - stunning and beaming - you find, “Hey, pretty girl.”
Now that you’re coming down, your diffidence returns and you close your eyes in a pathetic attempt to hide.
He’s having none of it, “No, no, darling…you stay with me. Right here, baby. You look so pretty with my cock inside you, imagine how fucking beautiful you’re gonna be when I fuck you full.”
“Please, jake…” it’s pathetic really, and maybe you should care about that, but you don’t. “I need it, I need it so bad.”
“Yeah?” The gravel in his tone makes you shiver with frantic desire. “Pretty girl just wants to bounce on my cock all day? Just using me to get what she wants?”
Rather than answer, you elect to begin wrangling the button on his pants.
“Someone’s eager.” He teases softly, lifting up on one elbow, easing your struggle. “You want it that bad? Are you gonna let me cum wherever I want? Gonna let me put a baby inside you?”
“Fucking do it!” Frustrated and sparking with electric desperation, you give up and tug on his waistband feverishly until he takes over, popping the button with ease and kicking them off.
His cock is fisted in his hand now, with your eyes fiercely focused on it. Hard and beautiful and yours. “You want that inside you?” He whispers, watching you stare. “You want me to fuck you? You want me to fucking breed that pretty pussy? Make you a mama?”
You should be ashamed of yourself, you well and truly should be…but fuck if you don’t want more, “Keep talking while you fuck me,” you breathe, somewhere between imploring and begging, “Dirtier, come on…”
His cock slips inside. Just the cashmere tip teasing at you, “Dirtier?” He nudges in a little deeper, just enough to make you whine, “well what should I say, pretty girl? Should I tell you that you’re my beautiful little cum slut and if I’d known it sooner I’d have been stuffing you full all this time?” Deeper still he glides, “Or that I want to cum inside you and then fall asleep with my fingers buried in your cunt to keep it where it belongs?” He’s fucking you harder, faster…the pillowy head of his cock kissing your cervix in a divine dance between pleasure and pain. “Or should I tell you about how I think about licking it up? Kissing you with my cum on my tongue because I know you’d suck it off like the greedy little baby you are.”
“I-“ a pitiful whimper escapes you, but his fingers are suddenly grasping your chin, grounding you enough to collect your scattered thoughts. “I’m gonna cum, tell me where you’re going to cum. Tell me where you’re going to put it. Please, I want it,”
Hips rolling into a succulent grind against your swollen clit now, he begins “I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve got every last drop, pretty girl. It’s all yours, are you gonna take it for me like a good girl? Are you going to be a good little mama and take it all?”
His name is all you can manage as you shatter. It’s primeval and animalistic, sounds that would make you want to crumple in on yourself if anyone heard them besides your Jacob.
“You’re so fucking tight and wet..” his perfect cock is pounding you through it as he inches closer and closer, “are you ready for me to make a mess of this little beauty right here? Hmm? Ready for me to fuck this cunt all full and dirty? You want it?”
“Jake…” you trail off, eyes fighting to stay open and locked in on his face while you shake against him, twisting and clenching around his perfect cock, “you’re so fucking hard.”
He nods furiously, burying his face in the crook of your neck to lick your pounding pulse “That’s all you, baby. You make me that hard.”
Your hips begin rocking up to meet him even faster, hungry to please. “Good girl, you keep fucking that cock. Are you gonna take what you want? Gonna make me cum? Gonna help me fill this pretty little cunt?”
In response, your nails dig into his skin, raking your mark, claiming him. You’re almost there again, though you can’t imagine how. “I’m so fucking close,” you’re sighing and shaking the words into the room, offering confession.
“Again?” He’s mocking you so sweetly, teasing dirty words into your ear like lullabies, “Already? Is my pretty girl gonna cum on this cock? Squeeze and suck the cum right out of me to steal it away? You want it that badly?”
You let go, with a trembling breath of his name, and feel his body tense against the feverish grip of your orgasm.
”That’s it, baby,” his words are but a sigh skittering across your cheek, “That’s it. Feels so good. Feels like gold. My pretty, pretty girl…”
He fucks you faster even as you melt into a puddle within his arms. “Gonna cum for you,” he promises, “I’m gonna cum so hard for you. Who’s going to take it? Who’s gonna take every fucking drop?”
”I am,” have you even made a sound? You can’t be sure, you’re so lost.
”Yes, you are…” his forehead, slick with exertion and need, nods against your own. “You’re going to take it just like you take this cock. My good fucking girl…pretty pink baby doll just begging for me to wreck her.”
Without warning, he collapses into your arms, moaning and crying out, shuddering as he releases inside you. Warm and perfect, everything you’ve ever imagined and so much more.
His fingers sink into your muscles, clutching and pulling you closer still, “Baby…” he sounds raspy and pained, “Baby, baby, baby, fuck..fuck…”
And when at last, he calms, it is with his cheek pressed to your chest, clocking the wild metronome that is your heart with your hands sweeping through his hair.
Soon, you’ll both crawl out of bed, maybe into the shower…perhaps into the warmth of a bath, but for now it is simply you, and Jake, and this tranquil bliss.
Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie
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casual [rafe cameron]
pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - when you hook up with your best friend rafe on a drunken night after a party, you can’t stop thinking about it. but rafe, is doing everything he can to stay casual.
warnings - cursing, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort
Sitting at the island club with the warm sun hitting my face is usually one of my favorite activities in the summer on Figure Eight. But ever since I hooked up with my best friend three days ago, I’ve been dreading this event my parents dragged me to.
I sip quietly on my fruity drink, tuning out the sound of my parents mingling with the other guests. That is until, I hear the unmistakable sound of the Camerons walking in to the club.
My head turns at the sound of Rafe speaking lowly to his father as they walk in. Rafe stands next to Ward, seemingly angry at his father but—when isn’t he. On the other side of Ward is Rose, smiling brightly and saying hello to everyone. Sarah and Wheezie trail behind, Sarah running off to talk to Pope who is working catering with his dad.
Rafe looks over at my family’s table, his jaw softening from the tension his father caused when he sees me. I smile softly at him, waving him over.
What he does next throws me for a loop. Instead of smiling back and coming to sit with me, or drag me away from all this—he completely ignores me. He turns around and goes to sit at the Cameron table.
My heart drops and I swallow my nerves roughly, excusing myself to go to the bathroom. I wander through the club inside, being occasionally stopped by my parent’s friends making small talk and greeting me.
When I finally reach the bathroom I shut the door behind me and look into the mirror, finally allowing the tears to escape my eyes.
I knew we shouldn’t have hooked up. I knew it would ruin everything. Change everything. But the one thing I didn’t think of was that he would blatantly ignore me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids and he’s always protected me, been there for me, cared for me.
And now we hook up one night when we’re both drunk—and he acts like all of that means nothing. Regardless of how he feels about us hooking up, our friendship means something—everything.
I hear a knock at the door and quickly wipe my tears and reach into my purse to fix my makeup. When I open the door, I see Rafe. He smiles almost sympathetically which only makes me more angry.
“Hey, I-“
I scoff, bumping my shoulder into him as I push past him. He follows behind, “Y/n? Can we just talk please?”
“My bad, I figured you didn’t want to after you completely ignored me,” I say sarcastically, walking through the part of the club where no one is occupying.
He grabs onto my wrist, pulling me close to him. I push against his chest, trying to get away but his strength keeps me close. “Let go, Rafe!”
“Will you stop being so fucking immature,” He spits. “I couldn’t talk to you out there with everyone. We needed to be away, that’s why I ignored you.”
“Right,” I respond, my voice sharp as knives as I avoid his eye contact.
He sighs, loosening his grip. “Look, okay. We can’t—“ He presses his lips together, seeming to look for the right words. “We can’t do this. We have to forget about it, okay? It never happened. Just be casual,” He shrugs.
My eyes brim with tears, “Be casual.” I whisper. “Be fucking casual?!” I push hard against his chest.
“Yes, Y/n! This will never work, don’t you realize that? We need to just—just forget about it, okay?! It’s going to ruin our friendship if we don’t.” He explains.
I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. “How am I supposed to be casual when you kissed me like that? The things you said to me that night? We may have been drunk but I remember every second of it. It’s burned into my mind, Rafe. It might be easy for you to forget—“
He scoffs, “You don’t think I remember every touch? Every kiss—everything?! I do, trust me. But this just—it won’t work. And I don’t want to lose you.”
His confession should be comforting, but it just feels like he stabbed me in the heart. I swallow roughly, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “You just did, Rafe.”
I turn around and head straight for the front door. I hop into my car and drive home, never wanting to see Rafe again.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
I stare at my dark ceiling, fighting to sleep after tonight. But the only thing I can think about, is what I’m trying to forget. Rafe.
I close my eyes again, turning to the side and trying to force sleep.
I hear the sound of something at my window, a tapping sound. I get up and slowly walk to the window, peeking out of the curtains.
I see Rafe, leaning against a tree in my front yard as he jumps up, tossing rocks at my window. I sigh, opening the curtains all the way and then the window.
I stick my head out and look down at Rafe. He smiles, dropping the rest of the pebbles in his hand to the ground.
“Can you let me in?” He pleads.
“No.”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, um, I’m sorry. I fucked up, Y/n. It’s never been casual with you, and it never will be. You’re the only person on this fucking island I care about. I’d do anything for you, anything to get you back. I-“ He pauses, finding the words to continue. “I love you too much to lose you that easy. I’m just so terrified of hurting you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. This is all new to me, but I want to try.”
I close the window and pace out of my room, running down the stairs and out the front door. Rafe stands outside, staring at my window in defeat. But when he hears the door open, he smiles, watching me walk toward him.
“So.. what’re you saying, Rafe?” I ask when I stop in front of him.
He steps closer, cradling my face in his palms. “I don’t want to be casual. I want you to be mine. Please, give me another chance. I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you but I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, his thumb quickly wiping it away. My hands trail around his neck as I stare into his eyes. He means it, every word. I can tell. One of the perks of knowing him so well.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He smiles.
I nod, and before I could even process it—his lips are on mine. His thumbs rub along my cheeks as he cradles my face, pulling me impossibly close. This kiss is different than the ones we shared when we hooked up. It’s a kiss that feels, infinite. One I know that I’ll be able to share forever, not just one night.
A kiss that is completely un-casual.
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dude my billy brainrot is so bad rn!
anyways, ok so the band and muse go to a party, and this time billy is in a good mood and is obsessed with her. hes being really clingy and is just so in love with her. but then eddie starts flirting with her and says "you could do so much better than him". billy finds out and him and eddie almost get in a fist fight. but after eddie and billy almost fight billy goes to his muse and is all like "im sorry baby, i couldnt handle what he was saying, i really hope you know that i love you" and they fuck. but then the next day he is avoiding her a bunch and getting touchy with the other groupies and she is like "should i have listened to eddie?" i feel like this would happen earlier in their relationship before muse knows the cycle her and billy always go through
-🦋
billy dunne is literally my life
you're basically wrapped around billy the entire night, you both do a line off of each other, share drinks, it's like he's in a haze of just being entranced by you. he cannot stop kissing you, his arms wrapped securely around you, you're basically on his lap all night.
"I'm gonna write you a whole album, baby." and the feeling of his voice so near your neck makes you giggle which just makes him smile, "what?"
you shake your head smiling, "nothing." he keeps looking at you expectantly which makes you laugh again, "nothing! billy, I just-"
"you don't believe me? oh, that's what this is, you don't think I'm telling the truth!" somehow he's holding you tighter, his smile, the way he jokes makes your head fuzzy, well so does the drinks, but he does a number on you. the way he laughs, smiles, it's addictive.
"no, no, no, I do, I swear, scout's honor!"
"I think that only applies to actual boy scouts, baby."
"shut up" you kiss him and his lips make you dizzy, just as yours make him. when you finally pull apart he's just holding your face for a while.
"god, you're stunning, do I tell you that a lot? because you're so pretty. can I do another line off of you?"
you just rasp out a, "yes" and you've forgotten how public you are really at a party when you let him adjust you enough to do a line of your cleavage.
"let me go get us another drink, baby, I'll be right back."
"okay." you're smiling, adjusting your shirt as he squeezes your hand before he's off. no sooner is he gone then eddie is appearing
"he's only being that way for now, you know" he's drunk, you know he is to be so openly digging at billy like that.
"eddie-"
"two weeks ago he was doing lines off of some other chick's rack-"
"he didn't mean that eddie."
"he didn't mean what he did?"
"he fucked up, it was a mistake, eddie, it doesn't change anything."
"you don't deserve that." eddie is leaning closer over the couch rest, "you deserve better than him, the first guy you saw at the concert."
you stare back at him for a while, "eddie, if you think you could treat me so much better, you'd let me enjoy my night. which I was."
"one night is all he'll give you before he decides you're not that special anymore-"
"what the hell are you talking about, man?" billy is making his reappearance and you know eddie must be even more drunk when you thought when he doesn't even really try to cover.
"use your imagination." and eddie's words have barely escaped his mouth when billy's punched him in the face. eddie stumbles back for a second, but punches billy back and you've leapt up to get between them. and eddie's looking at you, shaking his head like he's done, and walking out. "whatever, man"
"eddie!" you're shouting, but he's gone, and you have other things to worry about. "billy, oh my god are you okay?"
"I'm fine, god, we need to find a new fucking bassist"
"don't do that, gimme your hand." you're looking at his knuckles and he's entranced by the way your brows furrow. "you can't just punch someone everytime they bruise your ego." his hand is suddenly moving to tilt your chin up, where he's smiling in disbelief.
"baby, that's not why I punched him." you're unamused by this. "I'm serious! baby, I did it because he was talking about you. acting like I didn't care about my girl. the girl I love."
"you love me?"
he looks dumbfounded by the question, "I just write all my songs about you, you basically live with me, I need you like air, so yeah, I do."
"that's good because I am so in love with you."
"this would be pretty awkward if you didn't." and next thing you know he's got you back at the house, laying on his bed as he proves it to you, it's really not fucking, it's raw, it's love making, and he makes you feel so appreciated.
that's until you wake up, and he pulls himself away just when you try to put an arm on him when you've woken up. he gets up, showers without a word, gets dressed, only says morning back when you say it, and walks out of the room. suddenly you feel like a one night stand, someone he never wants to see again, and there's a pit in your stomach. he knows it's because saying love has scared him, but he can't communicate that, he's just got to be destructive.
breakfast is him laying out instructions for everyone, moving away every time you try to get close, at some point you try to take a drag off his cigarette and he looks unbelievably annoyed which just shuts you down. and the ride to the studio is unbearably quiet, it makes you want to cry the way he doesn't acknowledge you.
it's gets worse at the studio when he doesn't acknowledge you at all and during a break is talking to the groupies, laughing, doing lines, having a drink, hands on them, and you do a line to deal with it before sitting back in the emoti studio so you don't have to deal with it. it's so fucking confusing. you're laying on the studio carpet when eddie walks in, looks at you, and lays down too.
you feel the energy of 'i told you so' radiating off of him, "eddie-"
"are you okay?"
there's a beat, "he told me loved me last night." another beat, "is this what it feels like to be loved?"
and he's rolling onto his side to look at you, "no."
you wish you didn't start crying, "then what did I do wrong since then? why is he doing this to me, I don't know why I'm not good enough."
"you are, he's too fucking stupid to notice what he's got right if front of him." and he's lighting a cigarette, handing it to you, "let's go to the record store, find something to listen to later. we can use my record player, you know it sounds better on mine."
and you do exactly that and wonder if maybe this is what it feels like to be loved, but it doesn't take away the desire your soul has for billy dunne. even if it makes you think that eddie could love you better.
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