Steve, To Dustin: Just Pretend You Don't Care And They'd Go Nuts For You, The Chicks Dig It

Witch!Reader x Demon!Satoru. He promises to fulfill her wish in exchange for something. She wants to be seen as a human being instead of a monster, the only thing she really wants is to be loved, and unfortunately he knows that. He fulfills her wish, but in return he imprisons her in his castle and promises to give her all the love and care she deserves (but in a very dark way).

The Ritual~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, demon Gojo, witch reader, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

I was born in a witch family. My mother was a witch too. So were my ancestors. I'm also a witch. I didn't know what was it when I was a kid. Is being a witch a good thing or a bad thing? I always used to ask myself. But all I knew was my mom always used to hide the fact from everyone that we all are witches.

So many years passed. I grew up. I'm an adult now. And I still don't have the answer that if being a witch is good or bad. But for me it became a curse. A curse for which my whole family got killed. The king hired to kill all the witches in his kingdom. He's such a powerful king. And that's why my family isn't with me now.

We all were unaware that they were attacking us. It was the middle of the night. I saw them kill everyone in front of my eyes. I ran away from there. But they saw me. I ran all I could. And for god's blessings they couldn't find me. Now I made a small hut in the forest.

All time fear attacks me that they will find me and kill me too. I can't live like this. I need to find a way where I can live like normal people. So I started learning witches techniques. Maybe any of them will help me? I started reading the books of my ancestors.

I started learning many magics. But none of them are for what I was trying to find. I never did witch activities before. I started searching in all those books. Maybe, just maybe something that will make me like the other normal people and I can live a normal life just like them?

I searched all I could. But nothing was related this. But then I found something. A book which is sealed. I looked at it. It was the last hope. I opened the seal. It was too old. Am I even gonna find anything from here? I opened the book anyways. After some time of reading what I found can actually help me. The things written in the book are:

"He got sealed. After all those trying, we all witches are successful. We sealed him. He, the strongest demon. He got birthed and from that day it was all the witch's job to end him. Though its not possible to kill him. He's too powerful. We all were also shocked that we got him sealed. He was birthed to destroy the world. He wants to rule it. He has destroyed too many places. He has killed too many people. And after doing rituals we managed to seal him. That demon, that monster's name is:

Gojo Satoru"

I kept turning the pages and the last page got my attention.......

Process to unseal Gojo Satoru

He'll fulfill your wish

My heart started beating wildly. Should I do it? It is mentioned that he is too dangerous. But he'll fulfill my wish. I don't have anything in my life. Does it even matter if I risk it? If I don't do it people are gonna try to kill me all the time. Then I should take a risk. I have to go to the place mentioned in the book.

The place mentioned in the book is the old burnt castle at the end of the forest. I've seen that castle from the young age. Everyone told me to stay away from there. But they never told me the story behind it. Today I got to know about the real story behind it.

The ritual needs to be done at night. So I collected all the things that were needed in the ritual that day. And I went there the next night. I wore a hooded dress so that no one could recognise me. And I was lucky that there weren't any people there. I quickly made my way inside the old castle with a candle in my hand.

I entered the castle. It was huge. There's dust everywhere. And the castle is burnt also. It made me curious about what happened here? I kept walking. The huge stairs from the middle. I have to go to the top room of this castle. As in the book there's a throne room which is the ritual room. I went up there.

I pushed the door open and my mouth was wide open by the beauty of the throne room. I wondered what it looked like when it wasn't burnt. I went towards the throne. I don't have enough time to do the ritual. I quickly set up what was written in the book. Then lit up all the candles. Then started doing the ritual. My heart was thumping against my chest.

As I completed the spell. The wind started flowing heavily. Suddenly all the candles were extinguished together. Then the wind stopped flowing. And all of a sudden all the candles lit up together again. Then I saw a tall human figure sitting on the throne.

He has a huge masculine body. He's tall, has handsome sharp features, white hair, white eyelashes and those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks exactly the same said in the book. He's wearing all black royal clothes. He turned his head on both sides and the cracking sound echoed through the room. Then he looked at me.

Can that beautiful person be that dangerous? I asked myself. "So you're the one who unsealed me?" He spoke. I have to respect him. "Yes, my lord" I replied looking at the ground. "Hmmmmm.....well, this place is still burnt and dusty everywhere.... and I don't like my castle to lose its beauty" he said and threw a hand beside him.

A blue ray came out of his hand. And all of a sudden the castle turned all new. Not burnt anymore neither dust anywhere. I was already gorgeous and now it has become more gorgeous. A huge black gorgeous castle. "Hmm.....so what's the reason you unsealed me?" He asked.

"my lord, I'm a witch.... people of the king are killing all the witches. They killed my family too. I don't wanna live like this. I was to live like normal people. I want everyone to think of me like normal people. I want to be loved." I replied. And then there was silence. I could feel him staring at me.

"So you don't wanna be a witch any more and want to be loved right?"he asked. "... yes. My lord" I replied. He smirked. "Okay....done" he said swiping his finger in the air. My eyes widened in hope that now I can live like normal people. I looked at my hand and the witch sign was gone.

That means..... that means I'm not a witch anymore? I was so happy. "T-thank you... thank you, my lord" I said with a smile on my face. I stood up. I said "I should go now-" he didn't let me finish "No" he said. It almost seemed like an order. I dared to look at him. And there was a sinister smirk on his face.

"I didn't give you permission to leave" he said and went up from the throne. And within a blink I was standing in front of me. I got frightened and took a step back with a gasp. "You scared?" He asked with a smirk. I didn't reply. "Are you?" He asked again tilting his head. ".... N-No" I replied.

"okay.... then come with me... let me show you something" I said with a grin offering a hand to me. I have to accept his hand and so I did. And within a blink we both were standing in front of the window. How fast is he? "Look at the kingdom. I own this. I'm gonna burn this place" he said. Now he was definitely terrifying me.

He placed a hand on my waist and pulled me against him. Now this is getting too uncomfortable. "And you'll be watching them die with me from here. And I'll kill them first who killed your family" he said. What does that mean?! "M-my lord I should go now" I said. "And I already said no" he said looking at me.

"you want to be loved, right?..... you'll be living here in my castle with me.... and I'll give you all the love you need" he whispered in my ear. My eyes widened. Oh no no no. This is not what I want. He wants to kidnap me in his castle?! Shit I don't have my powers anymore either. What should I do now?!

"what happened?" He asked and nuzzled his face on my neck. I took a deep breath and pushed him. Then ran all I could. I was running through the corridor and bumped into someone. Of course it's none other than Gojo Satoru. I don't have any ways now. I automatically started crying.

He smirked. "Didn't thought someone has the bravery to disobey me" he said and started walking towards me and I started walking backwards. "P-Please let me go I don't want that life" I cried. "Oh darling you don't know how much I love to see people crying. And for your life I'm the one have the power to decide how you'll live" he said.

Then he clapped his hand and we both were standing in a.... BEDROOM?! He grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. "Now tell me what you were saying?" He asked. "P-Please....let go... P-Please" I said. "Let you go? But didn't you wish to be loved? I'm giving you the love you deserve" he said while grabbing my ass and squeezing it.

I yelped at that. "P-Please I don't want to stay her-" before I could even complete my sentence he threw me on the bed and claimed on me. I screamed so loudly out of fear when threw me on the bed. "Didn't you say you're not scared? That seems like a lie now" he said and took off a strand of hair out of my face.

"it's been years since I was sealed. Never thought I'll get this gorgeous gift as soon as I get unsealed " he said with a smirk and pressed his lips on mine. I tried to push his chest but he grabbed my hands and held them beside my head while kissing me aggressively. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth.

I was shaking my head in protest but he didn't stop. When he stopped he immediately grabbed the top of my dress and tore it off. How strong is he??? He tore off a dress with Corset with his hands?! I almost screamed when he did. I covered myself and tried to crawl up.

He grabbed my hair and made me look at him. "Did I say to cover yourself???" He asked. His eyes shined. Tears falling down from my eyes. He smirked and licked my neck with his long tongue. I was shaking from fear. "You know seeing you scared makes me more turned on" he whispered.

I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. His eyes shined in the dim light. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even affect him. "M-my lord stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop. "It's Satoru, darling.... I won't kill you if you call me Satoru"

Then he took off my pantie. He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, getting wet for me huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. "Look... this is what you have done to me..." he said while stroking his dick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " S-Satoru no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged and called him Satoru as he said so maybe he listens to me? but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " you know.... you're the first witch I love....I always hated all the witches.... never seen such a gorgeous witch like you.... f-fuck what great present I got as soon as I got unsealed" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrusts I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. "Do you still think you can make me stop?" He said with a smirk. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He fell beside me on the bed.

"You need to be loved? I'll give you all the love you deserve..... now spread your legs again.... I'm not done yet.... I was sealed for over 500 years.... you don't expect me to stop right now, do you?" He said and chuckled demonicly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

They do be fixing that boat

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

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

Posters on the Wall | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your bedroom is covered in posters of your celebrity crush; Kirk Hammett. It's not until Steve points it out that you notice a... similarity to another metalhead you know.

Smut, afab reader, PWP

Warnings: Daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), penetrative sex, creampie, slight praise kink.

5.1K words

18+ MINORS DNI

Your best friend Steve had been in your room many times before. There were no new posters, no new knick-knacks, which is why it was strange he suddenly seemed so darn interested in them. "You know..." He started, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. Oh god, this can't be good. 

"You really have a type. Have you ever noticed?" He motioned to a couple of posters on your wall. They were primarily of popular metal and rock bands, but there were some solo posters of members you were crushing on. Kind of. Mainly Kirk from Metallica, but who could blame you? Kirk was 21 when he joined the band in 1983 and had the perfect looks and talent for you to swoon over. He was your favourite. 

"What do you mean? A type?" You questioned, putting quotation marks around the 'type'. Steve laughed and pointed at a poster of Kirk that was hung right above your bed. "You don't see it?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You shook your head and shrugged. 

"These guys look an awful lot like someone we know, don't you think?" Steve gestured at a cluster of pictures on your wall. Amongst the photos of musicians and actors, there were a few strewn about of your friends. "I still don't get it, Steve." You sighed as you glanced at the picture of Robin, Eddie and you that Steve had pointed at last. 

"You're genuinely telling me that your lady-boner for Mr Hammett here has nothing to do with your crush on Mr Munson?" Steve scoffed. Your jaw dropped as you turned to glare at him. 

"I do not have a crush on Eddie! Are you insinuating Kirk looks like him? That's what you were getting at?" You crossed your arms defensively. Your brows furrowed as you thought it through. Kirk and Eddie didn't look alike, did they? Steve could practically see the cogs turning in your head. He knew he was digging up an unspoken topic; your feelings for Eddie. 

He didn't know what happened that night in the Upside Down. Nobody did, except Dustin, Eddie and you. The three of you refused to talk about it. Steve and Robin had discussed it and decided it must've been insanely traumatic. Hell, Eddie had almost died. Almost. Everybody had made assumptions about how you felt, but that incident settled it. You were in love with him, whether you knew it or not. You couldn't not be, not with the way you looked at him after that. 

You shrugged it off and tried to ignore Steve's insinuation. He trotted down the stairs as you collected your things to head over to Eddie's trailer. Your eyes fell on the poster of Kirk hung above your bed, followed by the picture of Eddie and you on your bedside table. Maybe they did look kind of similar? You sighed as you shook your head at the idea. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs and out the front door. 

The drive to Forrest Hills was strangely muted. Steve informed you Nancy had had to cancel, but otherwise, it was silent. You'd picked up Robin along the way. As usual, she immediately started chattering your ears off, breaking the silence. Steve pulled up and parked next to Eddie's van. 

The man of the hour was already stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the doorframe. You didn't get to do this often; hang without the kids. You enjoyed their presence, but now and then you needed this. You think you all did. 

Eddie invited you in, and you settled on the couch with Robin and Steve. Eddie prepared some drinks and snacks on a tray and balanced it on his hands as he took it to the living room, a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He set everything on the table and clapped his hands, waving them in the general direction of the cups. "Self-service, ladies and gentleman." 

The night was relaxed, consisting of just games and fun chatter. When Robin finally brought up the topic of celebrity look-alikes, you glared daggers at a snickering Steve. 

"I mean, it has to be Swayze, right? Eddie argued. You had been first, followed by Robin. Nobody could agree on which celeb looked like Steve, though. 

Robin shook her head in disagreement. "It's Rob Lowe, I'm telling you." Steve scoffed. "So I just look like I should play in Youngblood? Because that's what I'm hearing. I don't even like hockey. Besides, Hargrove looks way more like Rob Lowe than I do." 

You ended up agreeing that, yes, Steve just looked like he belonged between the generic heartthrobs. 

When Eddie came up, Steve remained exceptionally hushed with a mischievous look threatening to spread across his face. You and Robin named a couple of famous actors and musicians before she turned to you and hit you on the shoulder repeatedly. 

"Oh! That guy you had the wet dream about last week! The Metallica one on all those posters in your room!" Robin looked like she'd solved string theory as your face turned red. "Robin!" You whisper-shouted in a horrified tone, putting a hand over your face in embarrassment. 

"It's Kirk Hammett," Steve spoke up. 

"Yes! Thank you! You look like Kirk Hammett!" Robin exclaimed. You loved her, but God, did you want her to shut up like three sentences ago. Did she not hear what she was insinuating? That you’d had a wet dream about an Eddie look-alike? You wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

Eddie’s expression was illegible as he turned to Steve. “You know Metallica members, Harrington?” 

“Just the one. I guess you’ve never been in that bedroom because you definitely would've remembered. The guy is everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, actually. Can’t change in there, feel watched.” Steve shuddered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I do see a similarity. I think it’s mainly the hair, though.” Eddie smirked smugly as he leaned back in the chair. 

The discussion changed to one about hair, Steve’s to be precise. Yet you kept feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. You sighed as you reached for a chip and turned to Robin when the boys were busy discussing shampoo. “You couldn’t just have named anyone else?” 

Robin shrugged. “They look alike. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

You watched Eddie as he playfully argued with Steve. The scar on his jaw was slowly fading, becoming less prominent. You guess he did kind of resemble Kirk if you squinted. You could admit Eddie was a handsome guy. Was Steve right? Did you have a crush on Eddie? 

You imagined yourself with Eddie on a lazy Sunday morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast, arms wrapping around you as a kiss was planted on your cheek. Heat rose to your face when you realized that was definitely something you could see in your near future. 

You tried imagining the same scenario with Steve, and although he too was handsome, the image wasn't accompanied by the same warm, longing feeling. Did you have feelings for Eddie? 

Steve and Eddie immediately noticed your flustered expression. Eddie was merely curious, giving you those big questioning puppy eyes. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on. The knowing smirk as he glanced at Eddie before raising his eyebrows at you told you enough. His body language screamed ‘I told you so.’ 

You really, really wished you could control thought processes. While the domestic scene was adorable, your mind flashed back to Robin’s words and the implication they’d made. You’d told her about the dream in confidence. You hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d heard enough. Clearly, it had stuck. 

And now you were stuck. The imagery of that night returned, but the hands trailing under your shirt were clad in familiar rings. The top you took off was suddenly one you recognized all too well. The chest your fingers traced was now adorned with tattoos and scars, the sight of which you were well acquainted with. 

Dream-Kirk had morphed into Dream-Eddie, and your breathing quickened when you realized the new mental images had you clenching your thighs, wetter than you had ever been. Was your superficial crush on the guitarist just a projection of your feelings for Eddie? 

Eddie had been observing you while he talked with Steve and Robin. You were being uncharacteristically quiet. He noticed the occasional flush of your cheeks and pressing of your legs. You were lost in thought, drink untouched in your hand. He turned to offer you some chips or anything else to your liking.

"Sex?" You were startled as Eddie spoke to you directly. You nearly dropped your drink as your jaw dropped in shock. "What?" 

"I asked if you wanted some snacks. Where's your head at?" Eddie raised his eyebrows teasingly. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips as he watched you squirm and scold yourself. Where was your head at? 

"Yeah, sorry, thanks. Guess I'm just a little... distracted today." You sighed as you took the chips from him. You munched on them silently as you sat there mortified. Of course, he didn't just fucking turn to you and ask you for sex. 

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asked. You shook your head and chuckled. You glanced at Steve and Robin, who were lost in conversation. "Just, earlier..." You trailed off. Why you were even being honest, you didn't know. 

"Oh, I can totally catch you up on which hair products Harrington uses. Apparently, it's this Farah Fawcett hairspray he— Hey! Ow!" He exclaimed in pain when you hit his shoulder. 

"You know that's not what I meant, Eddie!" You muttered loudly.

"Hey, I was just giving you an out if you didn't want to breach the whole 'wet dream about my look-alike' topic." He laughed. You sighed as you looked up at him, your thighs involuntarily clenching at his expression. You weren't sure what he was thinking. His eyes darted to your thighs as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your trance was broken by Robin clearing her throat. "It's getting late, your uncle is probably coming home soon, and I don't want to bother him. Should we go?" Steve nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I guess that's probably for the best." Eddie put his hands on his thighs as he pushed himself out of the chair. "C'mon, I'll drive you guys home." He motioned to Robin and you. 

"No, that's okay. I'll take Robin. We live close anyways." Steve smiled. He openly winked at you as he said it. Bastard. Eddie neglected the fact that you lived closer to Robin than Steve did and agreed to be the one to take you home. Perhaps it was time you had a grown-up conversation with him about how you were feeling. 

You got in the passenger seat and watched Steve and Robin drive off. An energy you were unfamiliar with filled the van. Tension, maybe? Mutual anticipation? You didn't dare turn to Eddie or open your mouth, afraid of what would happen if you did. 

He started the van quietly. You watched as his right hand gripped the gear tightly, knuckles turning white. The left was holding the steering wheel for dear life. You'd hoped the grumbling engine would've broken the suspense hanging in the air, but it did no such thing. 

You were almost convinced you'd been imagining things. That Eddie didn't feel what you did. That his breathing wasn't actually any different than usual. That he wasn't being weirdly distant. But all your worries were resolved when his right hand slowly found its way onto your thigh. The strained gasp that left your mouth shouldn't have been as relieved, as suggestive as it was. 

"Tell me about the dream." Eddie finally broke the silence. You didn't know his grip on the wheel could tighten even more, but it did. The hand on your thigh was gentle in comparison, fingers tracing circles on the inside that had shivers going up your spine. 

"I'm not sure I want to." You confessed quietly, looking out the window. 

"Look at me when I talk to you, princess." Your eyes widened at the nickname. His voice had a tone you'd never heard from him before. "C'mon, tell me."

You hesitated, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. You didn't know where to start. "I guess it starts at a concert. And yo-he's playing the guitar. And I guess that's kinda... hot? And then the concert ends and we... y'know?"

Eddie chuckled at your reluctance. "Shit, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." He squeezed your thigh as he spoke, rubbing it a bit to encourage you to keep talking. 

"It's nothing special, really. Just some making out and shit." You huffed, not wanting to go into detail. You tried to recall the dream as vividly as possible, and you were starting to doubt if it had ever even been about Kirk, or if it had been Eddie all along and you'd just convinced yourself it hadn't been. No matter, all the images were of Eddie now. They were consuming you slowly. 

"If it's just the thought of making out with me that's been getting you so hot and bothered all night, I can't wait to find out what happens when we actually do, baby." Eddie's hand crept higher and higher up your thigh, eyes never leaving the road. 

"It wasn't about you, Eddie." You scoffed. Your gaze was fixated on his profile, but he didn't let up. 

"As long as you've got yourself convinced." His smile was mocking you when he finally made eye contact. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. Were you really that transparent all evening? 

"It means you're soaked, sweetheart. And have been since you got the thought of me stuck in your head earlier." He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Like he told you the sky was blue, and the grass was green. A whimper left your throat when his finger traced the hem of your panties. How hadn't you noticed his hand coming up again? 

"That's right, baby. Feel what I do to you? What the thought of me does to your pussy?" He stroked you through the dampened fabric. There were no longer any words coming from you, just sounds. 

You mustered as much willpower as you could and spoke. "Eyes on the road, Munson." It was meant to sound confident, but Eddie knew he had you right where he wanted. Wet and desperate.

"I'm doing fine over here. It's you we should be worried about. Are you still breathing? Or have you just completely given up on all human function?" His chuckle was dark. Who was this person, and what had he done to sweet, loving Eddie? He was ridiculing you, and you were eating it up. How did he know which buttons to press so damn well? 

"I'm breathing." You mumbled. Eddie snickered and shook his head. "More like hyperventilating. Speak up." Eddie finally stopped rubbing your clothed cunt to shift the gear and park his van by your house. You hadn't even noticed you'd arrived. 

Eddie clicked and undid your seatbelt and motioned for you to get out of the car. You opened the door and put your feet on the gravel, knees weaker than you'd expected. The cold breeze blowing through the trees made goosebumps appear all over your body. 

You walked to the door and unlocked it, not checking if Eddie followed you inside. You knew he never intended on just driving you home. He was coming inside. 

You walked up the stairs and heard the front door close and lock. Eddie caught up to you and slapped your ass as you walked towards your room. “Nice house. Can’t believe I’ve never been here.” He mumbled as he walked up the stairs. 

As soon as the door to your bedroom was opened, Eddie closed in on you. His hands found their way to your hips as he pulled you close. He looked around the room for a little and smirked. There were a lot of posters here. 

He pulled you close and put a hand on your chin, tilting your face to his and kissing you softly. Even when he felt like ravaging you, he wanted your first kiss with him to be good, memorable. He felt you melt into his touch, relief washing over you when you finally got to put your lips against his. 

When he pulled away, a whimper nearly left you. You managed to hold it in, but your anguished expression was obvious. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Eddie sighed as he towered over you and walked closer, making you walk back towards the wall. 

He pushed you against the wall harshly, pressing his lips to your neck. "I understand what Harrington was getting at, now. Totally feel watched in here. Kinda hot, not gonna lie." He laughed as he pried your legs apart with his knee. He could feel the heat radiating from you as he pushed his knee against your cunt. "You into that kinda thing, baby? Maybe next time I'll take you somewhere with real people. Give 'em a little show." 

You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your neck. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You're a filthy little slut who likes being watched." His hand shot up your shirt and groped your clothed breast roughly, pressing his lips to yours once more. The knee between your legs was torturing you, never quite giving the right amount of pressure or friction. You tried to grind down to seek it, but Eddie's hands went to your hips and stilled them instantly. 

"Nu-uh, sweetheart. Only I get to play with your pussy. It's mine now, isn't it?" His kisses had stopped as he observed your expression, trying to read how far he could push it. You nodded wildly, silently pleading for him to continue. "Yes! All yours!" You whined and tried to pull him back into you. 

Eddie grinned at your desperation, bringing his knee up just once to watch you keen. You tried to grind your hips down again but huffed in frustration as he held you in place. He reached for your arms, putting them above your head. He undressed you with ease, only leaving you in your bra and panties. "You look fantastic, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, daddy." You sighed with your head thrown back, waiting for the touch of his lips to return. When they didn't, your head whipped back down as your eyes searched Eddie's face in confusion. 

"What did you just call me?" He questioned cynically with his eyebrows raised. Your heart sank when you realized your mistake. You'd called him 'daddy', a thing you'd known about yourself but didn't dare mention to any of your friends. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." You stammered, reaching for your shirt to put it back on. Eddie tutted as he took it from your hands with a teasing smile. "No, baby. It's alright. You're gonna stay right here for daddy, right?"

You nodded wildly and pushed your back against the wall again, awaiting his next move. When he reached to turn you around, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelped, whipping your head around to look at the perpetrator. 

"Use your words for me, baby. No nodding or shaking your head, only 'Yes, daddy' or 'No, daddy.' Understood?" He asked, threatening to land another smack on the stinging area. You nodded before catching yourself. "Yes, daddy." 

"Good girl." 

The two-worded sentence sparked something new in you. A desire you weren't aware of. A need to please Eddie. You'd do anything to hear those words again. 

"You like it when I call you a good girl? Made your legs clench, baby. So cute." Eddie whispered in your ear as his hand slid from your ass to your folds, rubbing softly over the fabric. You whined as you searched for more friction. "Yes, daddy. Please." You didn't know what you were begging for. You just needed him to do something. 

You were still facing the wall when he pulled at your hips, bending you over. You put your hands against the wall to steady yourself. 

He snapped the waistband of your underwear harshly before pulling them down your legs. He ensured his hands were touching you at all times, leaving trails of goosebumps wherever they went. His finger dipped between your folds, collecting the juice on his finger. He put his hand to your lips and bent forward to whisper in your ear. "Taste yourself for me, baby. Taste how much I turn you on." 

You took his finger in your mouth right as he pushed another inside your cunt and swirled your tongue around it. Never in a million years would you have believed anyone who had told you this morning that coming nightfall, Eddie Munson's fingers would be knuckle deep inside your mouth and pussy. Yet here you were, and you were loving every second of it.

"That's right. So fucking wet for me. It's embarrassing. Do you have no self-control? Couldn't even think straight when our friends were around. How am I supposed to take you anywhere in the future if you're just gonna be a horny bitch?" Another smack landed on your ass. You grumbled a defence around his fingers, but it was unintelligible. 

Another slap. "No back talking, sweetheart. If you're gonna behave like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one." 

His fingers left your mouth, allowing you to speak again. "Eddie, please." You begged. 

The fingers inside you found a cruel rhythm, curling right under the spot you wanted them to. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, found your clit and started rubbing circles around it. You struggled to stand upright, the arm reaching down your front being the only thing left to support you. "That's not my name, is it, baby?"  

You shook your head, struggling to keep it up between your arms resting against the wall. "No, I'm sorry, daddy." 

Eddie chuckled at your wanton apology. "That's alright, baby. You can make it up to daddy by lying on your bed for me." 

You nearly tripped over your own feet with the speed you tried to get to your bed. The poster of Kirk above it got your attention, and suddenly you understood Steve and Eddie. You did feel watched. Eddie followed your gaze and rested his knee on the bed, leaning over you to rip the poster from the wall. 

"Just you wait and see, sweetheart. In a few years, I'll be your celebrity crush." He smiled as he crumpled the poster and threw it to the floor. 

"You already are. I'm kind of starting to believe my crush on Kirk was just me convincing myself I didn't have a crush on you." You confessed honestly. 

Eddie's hand slid up your thigh as he put a hand beside you, leaning over you. It was only now you noticed he was still fully clothed. 

"That's cute, baby. You have a crush on me?" He smirked when he reached behind your back to finally relieve you of your last piece of clothing. You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. You let him take your bra off and eagerly watched as he took off his shirt. 

You watched him unbuckle his belt, and nerves settled in your stomach. Were you actually going to have sex with Eddie? You saw his bulge through his boxers and genuinely felt your mouth fucking water. Jesus H. Christ. 

You got on your knees and shuffled to him to pull his boxers down. He stepped out of them and let out a relieved sigh when your hand cupped his balls as the other gripped him at the base. He was rock hard, dripping precum from the raging red tip. You gave it a small lick, collecting the liquid on your tongue. The salty flavour of Eddie took over your senses. 

His hips bucked and he put a hand in your hair. You bent forward to take him in your mouth, but his grip on your hair stopped you. "Next time, kitten. Just give it a little kiss for daddy, will you?" He asked sweetly. You nodded with a pout, but puckered your lips, pressing a peck to the head of his cock. 

"Attagirl." He gently pushed you on your back, climbing over you as he left a trail of kisses up your body. Your fingers discovered his torso, tracing the scars that adorned it. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially when they were more prominent, but you thought they were sexy as hell. They proved he was a hero. 

His hand swiped between your folds, appreciating how wet you were and collecting as much of it as he could. He spread it over his dick sloppily, making an obscene squelching noise as he did so. The smile on his face was lewd when he observed you squirming in anticipation. "Didn't bring a condom, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna fill you up with my cum." He groaned. 

You relished in the idea of being filled to the brim. You wanted Eddie inside, now. You tugged at the necklace that dangled in front of your face and pulled him close. That earned you a smack to the tit. A high-pitched cry left your mouth as you watched him in shock. "Desperate fucking whore. I'll fuck you when I feel like it. You're gonna wait patiently, or there will be consequences." 

You didn't know whether to be scared or even more turned on at the threat. 

He positioned his tip at your entrance and slid inside agonizingly slow. You shuddered as he bottomed out, a guttural moan bubbling from your chest. This was pleasure in its rawest form. He dragged his dick back out at the same agonizing pace before knocking the breath out of you with a harsh thrust. 

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie." You tried to hold onto anything to steady yourself. Everything became too much. His brutal pace increased as he gave your other tit a smack. "Was so easy for you when you slipped up, baby. How do you keep forgetting now?" 

"'M sorry, daddy." You were delirious when he brought his hand down to rub at your clit. The feeling of his tip hitting the right spot over and over and over, combined with the friction on your clit, was getting you close at a rate you'd never experienced. You weren't going to last if he kept this up. 

"Gonna cum already? Feel so good on daddy's dick? Fuck, baby, you're already getting tighter." Eddie rambled as he drilled into you. You were an incoherent moaning mess, a jumbled mix of 'Daddy', 'Eddie' and 'Please' leaving your mouth. He didn't bother correcting you anymore. You were too far gone. 

He pinched one of your nipples in tandem with pinching your clit, drawing pained moans out of you. It hurt so good. "Like it when it hurts, slut? Can't cum without the pain?" He asked accompanied by lethal jabs at your cervix. You hated how it nearly sent you over the edge. How he was able to bring out the worst in you. How he knew what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself. 

Your moans and whines were increasing in volume and quantity. Eddie could feel you were close and started chasing his own release. He grabbed your shoulder, using it as leverage to push as deep and fast as possible. 

You felt him twitch inside. He was no longer talking, just grunting and moaning as he watched your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts. His free hand went back down to your clit and put a delicious amount of pressure on it, rubbing in time with the slapping of his balls against your skin. 

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed that little pussy full with my cum." He groaned. With a few last thrusts and whines from both parties, he stilled and spilt inside. The feeling sent you over the edge, one last exclamation of "Daddy!" leaving you as you came. He stayed inside a bit longer, admiring your sweaty, heaving shape as you came down from your high. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the cum spilling from your pussy with a proud look. He bent down and licked some of it up, making you hiss at the sensitivity of your spent cunt. He chuckled and looked up at you. "Hi." He smiled. 

"Don't you 'Hi' me when you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Munson." You groaned. He just laughed and dragged his body back up and told you to open your mouth. A mix of cum and saliva dripped from his mouth to yours. 

"Swallow, baby." He smirked. You did as you were told and showed him your empty mouth. "Good girl." He bent down and kissed you softly, in stark contrast to the proper fucking he just gave you. 

Eddie plopped down beside you and looked around the room properly for the first time. He noticed more details now, like the number of pictures of him that were sprinkled in amongst those of Kirk. "If I were to cut my hair, would you still like me? Because it seems like that's your thing." 

You laughed and looked around your room. "Yeah, I'd still like you, dumbass."

"Good, good. When Corroded Coffin blows up, you're gonna have to deal with a grand bout of jealousy, babe. That's gonna be me up on girls' walls." He stated matter of factly. 

"I think I'll manage." 

"Yeah, just go running to Kirk. Maybe by that time, I'll even be able to introduce you." Eddie smirked as he lay on his side, putting a hand under his head to support it. He gazed down at you with an expression you'd never seen on him before. A mix of glee, pride and admiration. 

"In your dreams, Eddie." You scoffed as you pushed against his arm, making his head fall back to the mattress. 

"Actually, in your dreams. Isn't that how we ended up like this, anyways?" 

Across The Room

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Synopsis: Eddie finally gets to talk to the girl that he can't stop looking at.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff!

A/N: I might already have a second part planned for this... Let's take this great amount of activity as my belated one-year anniversary present for this account!

Part 2 is out now Part 3 is also out!

There was something about the girl sitting on the other side of the cafeteria that seemed to pull Eddie's gaze to her, like an opposite pole of a magnet would do. Her shoulders were usually slightly slouched, her eyes too occupied by the notebook he never saw her without. He'd never actually heard her talk, but from the way her lips moved, he'd bet his life on it being the most gorgeous sound one could be blessed to hear.

One time he had passed her in the hall, her head buried in a textbook. Dustin had been talking about their D&D campaign, but one word went in one ear and out the other, the boy too occupied with the smell of daisies that lingered when she passed by. He'd never really liked flowery scents, but after that, whenever he saw daisies, he couldn't help but smile.

He'd never admit it, but her smile was his favorite thing in the world. Whenever he saw her smile, he'd keep wondering what she was smiling over, wishing that he could be the one who made her smile.

Of course, she never saw him. But he desperately wished she did.

You were surrounded by your friends, half-heartedly listening to them talk about a movie that had just come out that they were excited to go see. Your neck had started to hurt from straining it, holding up the sketchbook in your lap, prepared to hide it from anyone that passed by.

There he was, sitting in the same spot he always sat at, on the other side of the cafeteria, talking to his friends. When he threw a cashew at one of his friends with a playful grin on his face, you chuckled to yourself quietly, trying to commit the image to your memory.

Looking down at your sketchbook, you smiled at the unfinished drawing of him, still in the middle of sketching his curly hair, and when he stood up, the light coming from the windows behind him made him look... ethereal.

Of course, he never saw you. But you desperately wished he did.

History was one of your strongest subjects, and when Mrs. Click had asked for volunteers to tutor other students, you'd been the first to sign up, but it had been so long, that you had already forgotten all about it until your teacher had asked you to stay after class.

"I saw that you'd signed up to tutor some other students." Mrs. Click said, not looking up from the tests that she was marking. "Are you still free?"

The thought of tutoring students wasn't exactly appealing to you, already dealing with piles of homework and starting essays to apply for colleges, but when she looked up at you with a demanding look, you couldn't help but nod. "Yes, of course."

"Great." She said, looking back down at her desk, "Your first lesson is with a repeating student, at three. I've reserved the library for your lesson, and you can agree with him on later lessons. That'll be all."

"Great." You muttered under your breath as soon as you got out of her classroom, internally cursing yourself for ever signing up.

"Look, Dustin, I have to do it or Click's gonna fail me again."

"Can't you do it any other day?" Dustin groaned, looking up at Eddie as he tried to keep up with his long strides. "I mean, we've been planning this campaign for weeks and we're supposed to start it today."

"I know, and we're going to. I just need to do this stupid tutoring thing, and as soon as it's over we'll start. It's probably like two hours, max. Tell the rest of Hellfire that I'll be there as soon as I can."

"We can just start without you."

"Don't you dare, Henderson." Eddie said, turning to Dustin with a pointed finger and raised brows. "I'll be there."

Eddie could hear the boy groan behind him, yet he walked away with determination, leaving Dustin behind.

Your gaze kept shifting between your wristwatch and the giant clock on the wall as you kept scribbling on your sketchbook, your foot tapping almost in rhythm to the ticking on your wrist.

It was almost three, and there was no one in sight. You'd already spent an hour in the library, catching up on your own homework, and now you were waiting for the person you were supposed to be tutoring without even knowing their name. You kept telling yourself that if they weren't there five minutes past three, you'd go home, and make up an excuse if Mrs. Click cared enough to ask.

But as if on cue, you heard the library door open, turning your head to see who it was.

He was standing there, his ring-clad hands gripping a history textbook, his eyes slightly widening when he saw you, the smile that slowly twisted on his lips causing you to react in a similar way.

The spell was broken when you heard a sudden clacking, only then realizing that he had dropped his book to the ground, and the boy quickly picked it up. You chuckled, turning back to your table and closing your sketchbook with a smile on your face.

He made his way to you briskly, looking at you up and down before settling to look at your face. "Are you my tutor?" He asked, and his voice was just as you'd imagined it to be, but better.

"Yeah, my name-"

"I know." He said, clearing his throat when he realized he had interrupted you. "I'm Ed-"

"I know, Eddie." You chuckled, quickly looking down at your feet before smiling up at him, "Do you wanna get started?"

"Sure."

"You can sit next to me or on the other side of the table, but it might be easier if you sit next to me so I can-"

He didn't even have to say anything to interrupt you, the boy already having pulled back the chair next to yours as you nodded, sitting down with him.

You started to go through the basics with him, telling Eddie about what would likely be on the test, the boy's eyes almost trained on you, the thought of it making blood rush to your cheeks. He kept nodding when you spoke, and you weren't sure if he was actually listening or doing it as a courtesy, but you hoped it was the former.

"So, Joan of Arc was..."

"She led the French army to victory over the English during the Hundreds' Year war. She was executed in 1431 for heresy at 19, and in 1920 canonized as a saint." He said, repeating what you said almost word-for-word, and when he looked to you for confirmation, you couldn't help the smile taking over your lips. "Did I get it right?"

"Yeah. Good job."

When you looked into each other's eyes with similar smiles on both your lips, no words were exchanged, but you knew. You finally saw one another.

This with nanami🙏🏾🙏🏾

ask and ye shall receive <3 content: MDNI, fwb!Nanami x f!Reader, handcuffs, piv sex, light choking, slight exhibitionism ig

Nanami Kento was a man who knew how to multitask.

He's expected to attend a meeting online he knows is a waste of time? He's finishing that afternoon's paperwork off-screen and still chiming at just the right moment with just the right insight. Lunch breaks? He'd rather eat his sandwich at his desk while he works than take it and be stuck there past five. You once caught him reading in the bathtub, wine glass in one hand while the suds clung to his chest. But this?

This was, uh, new.

"Sweetheart, sorry, I have to take this," His honeyed voice murmured in your ear, soft lips grazing against your neck as his other hand reached for his phone on the nightstand.

"Ken-" You started, about to tell him it was fine despite your disappointment, expecting him to pull out, but no, him readjusting just seemed to force his cock in deeper. Snapping your mouth shut to stifle your own gasp right as his thumb swiped over the screen and brought it to his ear.

"Hello? Yes, this is him," Nanami answered, somehow managing to sound professional while his cock was practically kissing your cervix. The throb of his thick length while you reluctantly unwrapped your legs from around his waist was taunting, blinking up at his collected face, only a few strands of his shiny blonde hair hanging loose even hinting at him being anything other than put-together. You wanted to touch it, brush it out of his face and twirl it around your finger, but you were cuffed, the metal cool around your wrists as they rested above your head.

You could barely understand the voice on the other end, something about an interview before you heard the word now and pieced it together.

"Now works," Nanami replied. He didn't pull out.

You waited, one second, two, but once you hit five in your head, you were mouthing his name, but he just pressed a soft, silent kiss to your forehead before proceeding to pull out just to slide right back in.

There was no fucking way he was-

The second thrust quickly turned into the twentieth though, his free hand pulling your thigh back over his hip so he could angle himself back in just as deep, careful not to smack into your skin hard enough to make a noise loud enough to be heard on the other end. All while he answered every stupid question about statistics and personal accomplishments and his recent projects and sales, even fucking chuckling at something the guy on the other end said like he wasn't bottoming out inside you with every brutal pump.

Your wrists straining against the handcuffs now, squirming under the weight of his frame and studying how handsome he looked like this, his sculpted chest and shoulders, the faint blond happy trail above where his cock was connected with you. He only briefly pulled the phone away from his ear to shake his head and give you one little chiding click of his tongue while nodding towards where your hands were bound, reminding you not to hurt yourself.

Pouting, you stuck your tongue out at him and you could pretty much see him tighten the leash on his own restraint to resist rolling his eyes and flipping you over to deliver a rough smack to your ass.

"I prefer not to work overtime, but if necessary..." Nanami returned his attention back to the man on the phone, who probably would never guess what position his interviewee had you in. Your own gasps and panting were barely contained, biting down on your lip to keep it from falling open while he tried to split you open with his cock.

Losing track of time while you were losing your grip on your slipping sanity, teased closer and closer to a climax as you desperately attempted to stay silent.

A tiny whine escaped, hardly a squeak, when his swollen tip grinded against the soft spot in the back, all your muscles squeezing around him as you struggled to hold in another needy whimper.

The hand holding your thigh disappeared, the heat of his palm lingering before it suddenly wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to keep you quiet. His sturdy fingers flexed and pressing into the tendons, squeezing you back, the heat between your thighs burning brighter at the hold he had on you. Your legs locked back around his waist tighter before he bottomed out in you, burying himself to the hilt again and again and again.

Forcing shallow breaths in-and-out your nose, glossy eyes peering up at his still-stoic expression, his brows pulled together in focus he was splitting between you and the phone.

It was probably one of your favorite faces of his - the way his lips were pushed together and all the sharp lines of his face, all his defined features fit together when he fit so nicely inside you. You were fine receiving half of his attention if it meant his two-track mind thought of you at all. If it felt even half as good as this.

Listening to his soothing voice recite facts and numbers and asking the other guys questions while he fucked you harder, faster. His thumb dragged up higher along the side of your neck to where a hickey he'd accidentally left earlier was, pressing in just enough you were suppressing another whine. Tears were starting to brim at your lashes, batting them up at Nanami to silently beg him to please, please, please let you cum already, squirming and moving until the cuffs accidentally clinked against his bedpost.

Shit.

"Sorry, that was just my pet," He apologized, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a little smirk while your mouth fell open in a wordless protest at his teasing.

You were so going to get him back later.

He balanced the phone between his shoulder and his ear, freeing up his other hand like he'd at least let you finish as an apology, rolling his thumb over your sore and sensitive clit, massaging steady circles that had your back arching up off the bed. Replying with 'mhm's and 'ah's while he released your throat to clamp that hand over your mouth instead, muffling your moans under his calloused palm.

You finished first. Or maybe he did. It was hard to tell, your legs trembling and a too-bright wave of pleasure hitting you right as his abs tensed and something warm started to leak down your thighs.

The interviewer on the other end definitely didn't know, still chattering away faintly in the background as Nanami ran his fingers through his hair, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead as he pulled the phone away enough it wouldn't catch how his dreamy little sigh as he caught his breath and re-composed himself.

"Oh? Yes, thank you very much. I'll keep an eye out for the email," Nanami murmured when he brought it back to his ear, only now pulling out and climbing off the bed, his cock, still pink and pretty springing up with his steps. He disappeared into the attached bathroom for a moment before coming back with a washcloth, cleaning up your thighs first, before himself.

You listened to him say his goodbye, still in a daze while he tossed the cloth into his laundry basket and sat next to you, warm eyes crinkling as he caressed your cheek. He hung up the phone, placing it back on the nightstand.

"I got the job."

😍

doodles <3

dark tom holland when ur both filming a sex scene but he actually fucks you in front of the directors, who are none the wiser

pairing: dark!tom holland x actress!fem!reader

warnings: smut (minors dni,+18) (non-con)

the tension was high on set the moment you walked in. it was the day for the sex scene in the movie with your co-star tom holland. he was a sweetheart on and off screen until you’ve found yourself in this situation. usually these sex scenes were meant to be fake in reality but that was not what was happening as of now.

you and tom were under the sheets, to not reveal much nudity on screen and if anything slipped you were still in skin colored underwears. nothing would happen right? it was just acting. those were what you thought to yourself before the scene until tom was actually sliding himself into you. 

“what are you doing tom?” you whispered in his ear so that no one else would hear it. it was actually against the rules to do such things in front of the camera because it would technically be pornography. 

“making everything more realistic, darling. remember, i’m a method actor.” the camera was rolling and he was actually thrusting into you instead of pretending. your eyes were shut and back was arched. 

“great y/n, maybe a little harder tom, make it more believable, yeah?” the director ordered and tom was smirking in your neck while also kissing your soft skin. as the cue came in he went harder and started to moan too. your moans were filling the set and you were scared people would find out what was happening in reality. 

your breath was getting heavier and tom’s smirk was getting wider. he was genuinely enjoying this, on the other side you were confused about this whole situation, it felt wrong in so many ways. he didn’t even tell you that he was going to fuck you on set for real. 

before either of you could finish the director yelled “cut!” that was when tom pulled out without making it obvious. he adjusted both of your clothes and acted like nothing happened. 

“let’s take one more take guys. are y’all okay with it?” the director asked and not letting you speak, tom jumped in to say “any scene with her is okay with me really.” he winked at you and all you could do was smile and nod. 

you can read part 2 here

Hello! Love your work especially with the last request 😍 May I request C.Evans x Innocent!reader. She's being interviewed with Chris for their first movie together and her big screen debut. During the interviews Chris keeps dropping hints that he's interested in reader but she's SUPER oblivious. The whole entire filming he has been interested in reader, but she never picked up on the hints. After all the interviews Chris finally snaps and shows her how much he's been longing for her 🥵🫣 Thank you!

don't deny the animal

Pairing: dark!Chris Evans x naive!reader

Warnings: non-con, dubcon, daddy!kink, dumbification, degradation, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, misogyny, slight breeding kink, seriously chris is kind of deranged in this, and the reader is super innocent, MINORS DNI

Summary: Chris wants you. He's never lusted after a co-star before but he can't help but want you. And the fact that you don't even realise it, makes him want you more.

(A/N: i got kind of carried away with this. but i hope you enjoy it anyways. i'll warn y'all again, this is a dark fic! read at your own risk! enjoy! also, -> requests are open <- and i write for chris evans and characters, so if you have any ideas do send them in!)

Chris thinks he’s having a minor heart attack the first time he sees you. His heart does this flippy thing that he’s never really felt it do before, seeing you shuffle into the room – all bright-eyed, shy and unsure of yourself. You’ve got your script gripped tightly in your hands; lip bitten in concentration as you go over your lines. He finds it so cute, how serious you are. He also can’t help but stare at you, your perfect figure, the way those jeans hug your ass.

“I see you checking out the fresh meat.” The director sidles up to him, giving him a nudge and a wink. Chris doesn’t hide his scowl – he doesn’t like this seedy sonofabitch talking about you like that. Despite the fact that he’s never before batted an eye at the director’s past misogynistic comments towards countless actresses and extras. But something about you is different.

“She’s the full package, Chris, I’ll tell you that right now.” The director continues, “Great body, great face. Acting’s great too. Plus, she’s got that whole innocent thing. You know, the whole ‘I’m from a small-town and I’m new to Hollywood thing.’ God, that’ll go away quick, won’t it?” Chris zones out almost instantly, watching you whisper your lines to yourself as you pace around in the corner. Disregarding the director, he finds himself walking towards you.

He introduces himself, all confident and oozing with charm. He loves that you blush instantly, craning your neck as you look up at him because he’s just so much bigger than you. He loves how soft your voice is when you tell him your name and where you’re from. He loves how he makes you so nervous that you stumble over some of your words, and the blush deepens on your cheeks. He stares at you brazenly – he really can’t help it. You’re the hottest little thing he’s ever seen – how you bite your lip so sexily, how your eyes flash with panic every time you stutter over your words. And that body. God. He can feel his imagination running wild.

Chris doesn’t really make a habit out of fucking his co-stars. In fact, he tries to avoid it because of how messy it can sometimes be. But he knows he wants you in his bed the moment he sees you. You’re absolutely stunning but he can imagine just how pretty you’d look underneath him, with your legs spread, your face contorted in pleasure, mewling his name as he pounds you into next week. Fuck. He has to have you. No ifs or buts. He has to. And luckily, he always gets what he wants.

As filming begins, he can’t help but admire how good of an actor you are, how cute you look pouring your whole heart and soul into your lines. You’re quiet and reserved off-camera, but as soon as the director yells action, it’s like you’re a different person. And Chris loves acting opposite you, playing your love-interest. At one point, you earnestly tell him you’ve been a huge fan of him since you were really young, how great you think he is, how much he intimidates you. He loves how you boost his ego without even realising it.

“You should come to my trailer later on,” Chris says to you pointedly on day five of filming. It hasn’t even been a week since he began working with you but he’s already impatient, already wants to get in your pants. “We can… rehearse.” He makes sure to say it pointedly, make it as clear as day what he wants. There are a few kissing scenes and even a minor sex scene between your characters that you both have yet to film, and he figures he can give you a bit of practice on that within the intimacy of his trailer.

“Oh yes, definitely!” You’re enthusiastic, looking as if you’ve been blessed that the Chris Evans just asked you back to his trailer. He’s smug, loving how excited you get, loving how you stroke his ego. It gets his dick so hard; he has trouble concentrating the rest of the day. And you’re so extra hot that day, pouting those pretty lips of yours as you act through your scenes. Wardrobe’s done a great job of dressing you in this flowy, periwinkle blue sundress. That, plus this fresh, minimal makeup look they’ve done on you, makes you look like a little flower. It’s so innocent it actually makes his heart ache. And his dick too.

You show up at his trailer so promptly that it makes him smile. There’s an hour break before filming starts again and Chris can think of a million different ways to spend that time locked up in his trailer with you. He pulls you inside immediately, loving how your eyes widen at his touch. You seem nervous – you’re always nervous around him. “You want a drink?” Chris offers, gesturing to the selection of beers he’s got in his mini-fridge.

“No, thank you, Chris.” You say primly, and he wants to reach down and adjust his hard fucking dick because of how polite you are. He really approves of your good manners, it’s a trait he finds both attractive and important in a girl, and it just makes you even sexier. “I don’t really drink.” You add softly, and he chuckles. Oh, sweetheart, Hollywood’s gonna eat you alive.

“How about a juice?” He asks, and he can’t help but smirk when you nod shyly. He hands you an apple juice-box, making sure his hand brushes against yours as he does, loving how you jump slightly at the contact. And, God, it really is the hottest thing in the world to him – you holding that juice-box, sipping on it all cutely. His mind shifts to a darker place, thinking of how he could really just ruin you.

He saunters over to the conveniently located loveseat in the sitting area of his trailer, plopping down and really spreading himself out, knowing he’s taking up more than half of the space. Crooking a finger in your direction, he beckons you forward, “C’mere.”

Chris loves how you scurry to obey his simple order, your demeanour radiating nervousness as you tentatively sit down next to him on the loveseat. He immediately sidles closer, so close that he’s nudging your leg with his. And it’s crazy how sexy you look, tugging the hem of your dress down your pretty legs when it slightly rides up, not to mention the hitch of your breath as you register how close in proximity he is to you.

He picks a scene and the two of you begin rehearsing. He loves the passion in your eyes – it seems like the only time you give him full on eye-contact for an extended period of time is when you’re acting. It’s easy for you to get lost in a scene with him – but every move Chris makes is calculated. Like when he puts his hand on your thigh. The scene doesn’t call for it but he does it anyways – figuring he might as well make it extremely obvious that he wants to fuck you. Right here. Right now.

Your eyes widen but apart from that you continue with your lines. Chris smirks, squeezing the soft flesh of your bare thigh, wondering if you bruise easily. Somehow, you make it through all your lines and – surprise, surprise; it’s not like he picked this scene on purpose – the scene ends with a kiss. It’s only meant to be a peck, but Chris figures he’ll really plant one on you, get you wet between the legs and ready for him.

He kisses you, loving how you squeak against his lips before melting into it and kissing him back. One, two, three seconds and fucking hell, Chris is ready to peel your clothes off. So it surprises him no end when you pull away, eyes bright and shining as you grab your juice-box and take another sip. “That was good, I think.” You speak. “The scene, I mean.”

Chris smirks, “And the kiss?”

He watches you mull over his question, really thinking it through before you answer, “I think I did okay. But I don’t know. I don’t really have much experience with that kind of stuff, Chris. I’ve never really done any kissing scenes before.” And you look so innocent as you confess this, all reflective and honest – as if you have no idea that your lips on his have given Chris the biggest raging hard-on he can remember having in a long time. He moves his hand up your thigh and squeezes again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You were great.”

“Really?” You light up, and it’s killing him how oblivious you seem to be of his true motives. “Wow, Chris. Your feedback really means everything. You know, I really just wanna nail this role – so people take me seriously. My family thinks this acting thing won’t work out, and I just wanna prove them wrong.”

Chris truly can’t believe it. His intentions have been crystal clear as day. He wonders if this whole innocent thing is just an act – but one look at you slurping noisily on your juice-box and he knows it’s not. You really are truly innocent, missing any signal he seems to be sending your way. And it only makes him want you even more.

***

From that point onwards, Chris makes it a personal objective of his to get you in his bed. He lays it on extra thick, your oblivious nature forcing him to act more and more obvious with his flirtations. He touches you a lot – in front of everyone. The whole film crew is subjected to Chris leading you around, his hand pressing on the small of your back or his arm thrown casually around your shoulders. The director gives him a knowing wink – you dirty dog, Chris. I knew you’d fuck her sooner or later! – and it truly seems like everyone knows Chris’ intentions. Everyone but you.

One day on set – when he’s feeling especially bold and horny – he takes you to his trailer to do a bit more “rehearsing”. The sex scene between you two is coming up, and you’ve told him you’re nervous about it, because – surprise, surprise – you’ve never filmed anything like that before. “That’s okay, princess.” Chris says, using one of his many pet names he now has for you, “I have something we can watch together. It’ll take the edge off and give you some pointers, too.”

Of course, when you’re both snugly sat in his loveseat, he pulls out his laptop and puts on his favourite porno. It’s a risky move – but surely you can’t be that oblivious. You settle in next to him, cuddling close because you’ve mostly gotten over your initial shyness around him, not batting an eye when he puts his arm around you. It’s only when the porno starts playing that realisation dawns on your face, and you turn to him with a questioning look, “Ch-Chris? What is this?”

“It’s porn, babe.” Chris states the obvious, loving how your luscious lips form the shape of an ‘o’, wanting nothing more than to stuff his dick down your throat just for pursing your lips like that. Instead, he squeezes your shoulder gently. “It’s an industry secret, but all the big actors watch porn before their sex scenes. I do it all the time. It works like magic.”

Sometimes Chris wonders how he can lie so easily. But you seem to be eating up every word he says, nodding as if he’s just bestowed the world’s biggest wisdom onto you. You settle in, relaxing as the video begins. And Chris spends the whole time looking at you rather than the laptop screen. The look of pure concentration on your face is absolutely adorable, but you might as well be taking notes in math class with how serious you’re acting. He wonders if you’re just very good at masking your desire – and he wonders just how wet your panties are.

“Ooh, daddy, fuck me harder!” The girl in the video moans, and you wrinkle your nose and look at Chris. “Daddy?” You repeat, a questioning look on your face.

And Chris thinks he’ll bust a nut right then and there, hearing that word slip past your lips. God, how fucking innocent can you truly get? He clears his throat, making no secret of adjusting his hard dick in his pants.

“Well, yeah, princess. Don’t you know that most men love it when their girls call them daddy?”

You shake your head slowly, a look of wonder on your face. “I didn’t know that. Should I call you daddy when we film our sex scene?”

He chuckles at that. I wish. “Maybe not, princess. But you can call me daddy anywhere else.”

And he can’t believe you have the audacity to laugh. This twinkling little girl giggle you do that drives him crazy, gets his dick so fucking hard he feels like he’s going to explode. And the feeling increases tenfold when you next open your mouth. “Okay, daddy.” But you say it as a joke, laughing shyly while Chris screams inwardly out of frustration. God fucking damn.

The two of you film your sex scene the very next day. And for Chris, it’s over all too soon. One second, you’re on top of him, underneath the covers wearing flesh-coloured bra and panties to give the illusion that you’re naked. And God, it feels too fucking good, your tiny body writhing on his hard dick, your lips pressing kisses on his skin, breathy little moans coming from your mouth. He can’t resist and gives your ass a little slap, loving how it jiggles against his palm.

He bounces you up and down on his dick, really wishing more than anything that he was actually inside of you. But it feels fucking amazing anyways, him humping you on his dick like this. He can’t believe this is his job. But after about ten seconds of this pure bliss, the director is yelling cut and Chris wants to gouge the motherfucker’s eyes out. Too soon, the assistants flood the set, helping you into a fuzzy dressing gown and whisking you away.

And you have the audacity to look back at him and mouth, “thank you for the pointers.”

He gifts you with flowers and a pearl choker on the last day of filming – after three aggravating months of sexual frustration and getting nowhere with his hints. You squeal and give him the biggest hug ever; he can feel your breasts pressing against his chest. “You’re the bestest, Chris. I’m gonna miss working with you so much!” He hopes you can feel his hard dick against your stomach, but if you can – you don’t say anything.

And his gifts don’t just end there. He buys you a tiny black bodycon dress to wear for the wrap party. Packaged with luxurious tissue and sealed inside a white box marked with Chanel. He leaves it waiting for you on your hotel room bed, accompanied with a note: Wear this for me tonight, princess. Love, Daddy.

He can’t possibly be more obvious if he tries.

And when he sees you at the wrap party wearing the dress hechose for you, that he bought for you – it awakens an almost violent, animalistic desire in him. He wants to bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone there, and go extra rough as punishment for teasing him all these months. But you’re blissfully unaware as usual, skipping over to him and giving him the biggest hug, thanking him for the dress. Completely unaware of the true intentions behind his expensive gift.

He keeps you on his lap all night. Maybe it’s because he can see how every other man in the room is staring at you in that body-hugging dress, or maybe it’s because his fucking dick just needs some friction from your body. And does it really matter if you don’t even realise what you’re doing? Getting all excited as you talk about the upcoming movie that you can’t help but bounce around, unknowingly giving Chris a few seconds of bliss?

But you leave early, saying you’re very tired and need a good night’s rest. Chris almost offers to give you a lift back to your apartment, but he’s surrounded by colleagues, actors and producers – all congratulating him on the movie. And easily, you slip out of his grasp; giving him a dainty wave before you’re gone and he’s left at a party he no longer wants to be at, with a hard dick and no adequate way of relieving it.

The press days for the movie are the worst. Of course, Chris is paired with you for the interviews – but the two of you never have a moment alone. It’s hair and makeup, then one interviewer after another sitting across from the two of you. And it doesn’t help that you look so fucking good, wearing this flowery pink dress with small pink flowers in your hair. Looking like a goddamn woodland fairy or nymph or some shit – it’s almost too much for him to handle.

“So, tell us what it’s like working on such a big film with Chris Evans?” One interviewer asks you.

“Oh, he’s just wonderful!” You gush. “This is my first major movie and I’ll admit I was so nervous. Because it’s Chris Evans, you know? But he honestly made me feel so at ease, and he really helped me out a lot. And we had so much fun too, like you guys already know this probably – but he’s a really great guy!” You give his hand a quick squeeze, and Chris notices the interviewer’s eyes zero in on this as you continue: “He’s just amazing. A great friend and mentor.”

Friend? Mentor? How many fucking friends of yours do you watch porn with? Chris wants to know, but he keeps his borderline angry thoughts to himself. Putting on his charming face and laughing and talking his way through the interview, when all he truly wants to do is throw you into the nearest bathroom and have his way with you. Rip that fucking flowery dress off of you, make you get on your knees and see how much of him you can fit in your mouth. Bend you over and make you scream so loud, that everyone hears. Paint your whole body with his cum, completely drench you in it, including those fucking flowers in your hair. So everyone can know that he’s not your fuckingfriend.

Instead, he sits through interview after interview. Growing more frustrated as the day progresses. Everything seems to be getting to him; he doesn’t like the male interviewers talking to you, or even looking at you – and he doesn’t like it when you reply to their dumb questions. He hatesit when you sing praises about the director of the film, or any of the other actors – he hates it when you praise anyone but him.

It suddenly dawns on Chris that he’s had you in this bubble while the two of you were filming the movie these past few months. But now that it’s over, he’s not ready to give you away into the ruthless clutches of Hollywood. He wants to keep you safe, keep an eye on you at all times. And, of course – above all – he wants you in his bed. He isn’t usually a possessive guy but you make him absolutely feral.

When Chris sees you at the premiere of the movie, he feels like his heart is caught in his throat. You look so beautiful, floating down the red carpet in this simple green chiffon dress. Your hair’s piled up on your head in this sexy updo with strands falling down to frame your face. All eyes are on you, the photographers yelling: ‘look this way, sweetie!’ ‘Give us a nice pose!’ ‘One over the shoulder, please!’

He almost wants to whisk you away, stuff you back into the limo and take you all the way back to his own house – away from the intrusive stares of all these people, away from the public eye. You’re his after all, not theirs. And Chris can tell you’re nervous, completely out of your depth, standing there looking so goddamn shy and delectable. He strides over to you, being a red-carpet veteran at this point, grabbing your elbow and giving you an assured smile.

You glow when you see him, readily take his arm. And fuck, it feels so good to have you on his arm, have all these people see you clutching on to him, the official photographers and the paparazzi going absolutely nuts snapping pictures of the two of you. You turn to him and whisper slowly, “Chris, I’m scared. All these flashing lights…”

He leans in all close to you, making sure to smirk as his lips brush your ear. He knows this’ll be all over the internet in a few minutes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You know I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.” And he can hear all the murmurs and exclamations in the crowd, gaining traction as more people look your way.

“Awww, look how he came to the rescue! She looked like a deer caught in headlights!”

“Chris is honestly the best. And they make such a cute couple!”

“They look so good together, it’s insane!”

Chris finds it amusing how even the random fans in the crowd seem to realise his intentions better than you do.

But he’s in a pretty fucking good mood regardless of that. Because he’s at the premiere of his movie and you’re on his arm. He only lets you go when you two get further down the red carpet, joining the rest of the cast and director as well as a handful of journalists conducting interviews. They corner Chris almost immediately, and he good-naturedly answers their questions. It’s only when he turns around, ready to go into the theatre, when he sees you being interviewed a few steps away from him.

“So, tell us, do you have a special someone back home? Maybe someone who you were wishing could be here with you?” The interviewer asks you, and Chris almost rolls his eyes at how dumb the question is. That is, until you reply.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe.” You say coyly, doing that thing where you bite your lip. “I’m super grateful to be here, romance and all of that is really on the back of my mind right now.”

“But ‘maybe’ means there is someone back home, isn’t there?” The interviewer grills. And you don’t reply, instead just shrugging happily – which is answer enough for Chris. And his blood is fucking boiling. He feels like he could punch something. Or someone. Every territorial cell in his body feels like it’s multiplying, the animal inside him growling angrily. You? Have someone else? How fucking dare you?

Chris has had enough. No, he’d had enough months ago. Now, he’s fucking feral. And you’re so fucking oblivious, being ushered into the theatre to where the movie is being screened. The whole collective moves, and once everyone’s inside and away from the photographers and bright lights and crowds, Chris grabs your arm, pulling you into the nearest bathroom and not giving a single flying fuck who sees.

“Chris, what are you doing? Is everything okay?” You ask him, your voice all breathy. Fuck, even when concerned you look fucking hot as fuck. Chris can’t take it anymore, he really can’t. “Chris, what’s wrong? They’re screening the movie now, we’re gonna miss it!”

It takes barely two percent of his strength to slam you against the bathroom wall, his arms on either side of you, effectively caging you in. “You have a boyfriend back home?” He asks you bluntly.

“Wh-What, no, I –”

“Answer me truthfully.” He says, his face inches from yours. You look scared out of your mind, and clearly very intimidated. And why does he find it hot that you’re scared?

“N-No, Chris. I don’t have a-a boyfriend,” you stutter; “I was just… There’s someone back home. Someone I knew from high-school. But I’ve been so busy with this movie… Nothing’s happened.”

He kisses you then. All rough from the get go, tongue ripping past your lips and claiming your mouth. He kisses you like he owns you. Which he does. And it’s about time you fucking realise it. You’re almost too stunned to kiss him back, and more confused than anything else. Chris can feel your tiny fists pushing at his chest, trying to push you away. It makes the animal inside him angrier.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You cry, face red and confused. Like, actually fucking confused. After he’s just dragged you into the bathroom and kissed you. Chris can’t fucking believe it.

“Surely you can’t be that clueless.” He says, reaching down to touch your body because fuck – it’s his and he’s had enough. His hands smooth down the sides of your waist, feeling the soft silk of your dress. The material’s so thin, he can practically feel your skin underneath. So creamy soft, he squeezes your waist, loving how you feel underneath his fingers. You let out a small whimper, and it drives him insane. He grabs your ass lewdly with one hand, giving it a rough smack that has you falling into his chest in shock.

“Why are you doing this?” You sob, and he continues to paw at you like a touch-starved man. Like an animal. Making up for all those times when he should have been touching you but couldn’t. “Chris, please! Why– Oh, oh!” You let out an involuntary little moan when he smacks your ass harder, and it makes him smirk.

“I’ve been trying to fuck you since the first time I saw you.”

Silence. And your fucking lips do that thing again, where they turn into the shape of an ‘o’. Your eyes are glazed with tears of shock and you look up at him in complete and utter disbelief. And Chris can’t fucking believe it either – because a tiny part of him still thought that maybe you were just playing extremely hard to get. But no, the way you’re looking at him now, you’ve been this innocent all along. His dick twitches in his pants.

“You’re so fucking naïve, princess.” Chris breathes, hauling you till he has you bent over the counter of the sink. And it’s not like you fight against him – he’s way too much bigger than you and you’re still in shock from what he’s just said. So it’s easy to maul you into place, with your perky little ass pointed straight at him, and he can’t help but grind his hard bulge into your backside.

“I-I, I thought you were my friend, Chris!” You speak up finally, your tone so deliciously pitiful, looking back at him with those big eyes, tear pearls hanging off your long lashes, cheeks red from the position he’s got you in. He smirks, grinding into you even more.

“Friend? How many of your fucking friends do you watch porn with, huh?” He flips up your dress and bunches it around your waist, revealed the most sinful lacy black G-string Chris has ever seen. Fuck. You’re way too innocent to be wearing something like that. He snaps the elastic of your panties against your skin and gives your practically bare ass another harsh smack that has you crying out loud. “And how many of your fucking friends do you call daddy in private?”

“I thought that was an… an inside joke between us!” You sob, clutching hard onto the marble countertop underneath you, so hard that your knuckles turn white. “And… And I thought you said all the actors watched porn before a sex scene. I thought you were helping me!”

“Well, you’re a stupid little baby, aren’t you?” Chris mocks. And he can see you in the huge mirror attached to the countertop that he’s got you bent over, he can see your mascara-streaked face, your flushed cheeks, the way your face drops when he calls you stupid. And God, all of it together is such a heady combination, it almost has him reeling. He rips your G-string off with a single, merciless yank, revelling in your desperate cry as he gives the tattered lace a deep sniff before stuffing it in his pocket.

“Chris, Ch-Chris, please…” Your breathy whines are like fucking music to his ears. He’s imagined how you’d sound all those times he jacked off thinking of you, but it’s nothing compared to the real deal. Your dainty hand grabs at his, and you crane your neck to look at him, “Please, Chris. We can’t…not here! Th-The movie!”

“Fuck the movie.” Chris growls, his large hands pawing their way up to your chest, pulling down the top of your dress till your breasts pop out. He licks his lips at the lewd image he sees in the mirror: you desperately trying to shield those pretty little tits now exposed to the soft light of the bathroom. He swats your hands away immediately, cupping both your breasts in his hands, squeezing indecently hard, loving how you can’t help but moan as your erect nipples poke against his palms.

“It’s your fault it has to be like this.” Chris tells you, “This could’ve happened months ago. I could’ve fucked you in my trailer, in my hotel room, my fucking house. But you just had to be a dumb fucking innocent little baby, didn’t you? Couldn’t even see how bad your daddy wanted you.” He unbuckles his belt and undoes his fly, pulling his hard dick out. And he wishes he could pause time and replay the look on your face again and again. Replay how your eyes widen, replay the darkness and hint of fear that shimmers in your pupils. Replay that goddamn hitch in your throat as you stare at his dick for the first time.

“It’s…so, so big…” You breathe, mesmerised by his dick and Chris can’t help but be smug. He grinds against your ass before slipping it down to press against your slit. Your wanton moan surprises even him – but moments later you’re gathering yourself, shaking your head and scrunching your eyes shut as if trying to fight off every instinct in your body. “N-No, please! Please, don’t do this here! Let’s just go back. I’m sorry, Chris! I’m sorry I never realised, I’m so sorry!” You sob.

“Baby, I’m not stopping for shit.” He says bluntly, his hands leaving your breasts; one lands on your hip and grips it tight, the other meanders slowly down to your pussy. A strangled moan tears past your stubborn lips when you feel his finger gliding over your slick folds. “So don’t you fucking deny me. See how fucking wet you are? You want this. You’re too fucking innocent to realise it – but you want me. And I’ll fucking show you how bad I want you.”

You’re so tight when he stuffs his finger inside you, but at the same time so slippery wet with your walls squeezing around his digit. He almost shudders as he imagines how snug your warmth will feel around his cock. He starts pumping in and out of you at an almost casual pace, because he’s waited so fucking long to have you that he might as well savour it – despite the animal inside him growing restless.

“Ugh, Chris!” You mewl, and for all the fight you’ve put up, it pleases him no end when you subconsciously grind your hips back into him, effectively humping his finger. “P-Please, I…I…” Already, you’re at a loss for words, and Chris wonders if anyone’s touched you properly at all. The boys from your hick small town probably had no idea what they were doing, which explains your almost visceral and immediate reaction to him. He adds another finger and you keen prettily, your worries about missing the screening quickly forgotten, “Oh, oh, oh! Feels good!”

“Forgot about your movie now, haven’t you?” He teases cruelly. As if on cue, his phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from the director: Where the hell are you guys?? The movie’s started, people are wondering where the two stars are! Chris only smirks, using one hand to type out a quick reply, something about taking care of business, his other hand still pumping in and out of you almost lazily.

“Ch-Chris?” Your tiny voice makes him put his phone away, and he looks at your face in the mirror. You already have a glossy sheen of sweat covering your skin, lips parted as if you’re panting. God, it’s crazy how adorably hot you look – and he’s barely even touching you. “Chris… Please… I need… I need…”

A devilish smile paints his features, his fingers curving upwards inside you and causing your entire body to convulse forward. “PLEASE, CHRIS, I NEED MORE!” You cry out so loudly, it surprises even him. And then you’re sobbing, really sobbing, tears staining your cheeks, his name leaving your lips in breathless moans as you rock back against his fingers.

“More huh?” Chris squeezes your ass particularly hard, reddening your soft flesh and loving the way you cry out. It’s amazing how vocal you are for him. “You want more, pretty girl?” You nod pitifully, a look of greedy hope in your eyes when he adds another finger inside your squelching wetness. He suddenly increases the pace of his thrusts, “Where the fuck were you when I wanted more, huh?” Another finger, and now you’re gasping from the stretch, the delicious burn. “Where were you, huh? When I was jacking off to your fucking body all these months while you denied me?”

“Didn’t deny you! D-Didn’t, I didn’t!” You insist desperately, “I didn’t know – oh fuck, don’t stop, ugh! – I didn’t know! I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

Chris can feel you getting close, he can feel it from the way you swallow desperately, from this wild look in your eyes, from the way your little hands clutch at the marble of the countertop. Studying you, longing for you for all these months has made him an expert on you and your body. He knows you’re about to cum, he’s so certain of it. But he doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction. And so, unceremoniously, he pulls his fingers out of you.

“No, no, no, no!” You moan, and Chris feels his dick twitch at how needy you are for him. “Chris, please!”

He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up till you’re standing straight, his body supporting most of your weight because your limbs have forgotten how to function. He’s given you a taste, a mere lick, of the pleasure he can give you, and it’s already made you putty in his hands. Turning you around to face him, he leans down, till his face is level with yours and oh so close. “If you’re gonna keep begging me, baby, you might as well address me properly.”

“Daddy, please!” You mewl with zero hesitation, and it’s music to Chris’ fucking ears. God, maybe you weren’t as dumb as he believed. You’re making desperate, grabby hands at him, trying to get him to put his fingers back inside you and finish the job. And he marvels at how – in five minutes flat – you’ve turned so fraught, so frantic for him – like a fucking bitch in heat. He loves that he’s done this to you, that it’s him who’s reduced you to this.

“That’s right, baby. I’m your daddy. Good to know you retained at least one thing from all those months we were filming together.” He guides both of you backwards, into one of the stalls. Kicking down the lid of the toilet, he sits down on it, placing your tiny, form on his lap, loving how you don’t even question it.

And okay, throughout all these months of him envisioning his first time fucking you, he never thought it would be in this small, dingy bathroom at the premiere of your movie. But it was your fault, completely your fault – you’ve driven him to do this, awoken this carnal desire in him to just own you and claim you. It’s like he’s a beast, an animal that’s been poked and prodded for months and now he gets to devour his prey. His reward.

“So, are you gonna ride daddy’s dick like a good little girl?”

Suddenly, you’re shy, panicked. You shake your head vigorously, biting your lip in clear distress. “N-No, daddy, you… you, please!”

“Me what?” Chris is absolutely revelling in this, loving how dumb you sound. “What a dumb baby, you can’t even speak properly all of a sudden, hm?” He gives your ass another slap that has you burying your red face in his chest. “Now answer me. Are you gonna ride my dick like a good little girl?”

“C-Can’t!” You sob, shaking your head again when he forces you to look up at him, desperation radiating off your tear-stained face, “I don’t know how, daddy. Please, you do it. You fuck me. Please!”

It’s fucking crazy how you never cease to amaze him. Chris shakes his head at you, momentarily at a loss. It’s insane how innocent you look, with this bashful look on your face, eyes flashing in embarrassment, trying not to meet his incredulous gaze. He reaches out to brush your hair back behind your ear, licking his lips slowly. “Don’t tell me you’ve only been fucked missionary before, princess. Is that how those small-town hick boys back home were fucking you? Huh?”

You nod, looking so distressed that it’s actually cute. Chris thinks nothing but dark thoughts.

“So you’ve never been fucked by a man before, baby?” He places a sloppy kiss on the nape of your neck, making you squirm and arch your back as you mewl out loud. And he continues, “Never ridden a man’s cock, huh?”

“No, I h-haven’t.” You hiccup.

His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging deep into your flesh as he picks you up slightly. “Well, there’s only one way to learn.” He says softly, plunging you down on his dick so hard, so fast, so suddenly, that you scream at the sudden fullness you feel. The impalement has your shriek of pain bouncing off the walls of the small bathroom.

“OH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream with absolute abandon, and Chris grunts because finally – fucking finally – he’s inside you. Inside those soft, velvet walls of your pussy that deliciously encase his dick as if it belongs there permanently, which it does.

“That’s right, scream for me, baby.” Chris whispers smoothly in your ear, gripping your tiny body and holding it close to him. You arch your back, the fullness so overwhelmingly pleasurable.

“So, so deep! It’s so deep, daddy! I can feel it so deep!” You babble, half crying and half moaning as you repeat and jumble your words in trying to form a coherent sentence. And there’s no movement yet, no friction, just you stuffed full of his dick while he savours the feel of finally claiming your body.

“That’s right, sweet baby. It’s deep from this angle. But now I need you to move for daddy.” Chris instructs you, helping you by lifting your hips up, hissing at the friction it creates around his cock. “It’s not so hard, princess. Even dumb babies like you can do it. Just move up and down, okay? Up and down.”

Through your tears of bliss and the overriding feeling of being overwhelmed by his huge fucking dick, you nod determinedly. And he finds it so cute when you bite your lip in concentration, doing exactly what he tells you to. With his help, his guiding hands on your hips which are honestly doing about ninety percent of the work, you slam back down on his dick, the tip of it going so deep that it fills you up till the hilt and you cry out desperately.

“Oh, oh, oh fuck! Daddy, it feels so g-good!” You moan, wiggling and grinding on his dick in a way that has both of you reeling.

“I know it does, princess.” Chris straightens up, realising that you’re two seconds away from being so dumbed out on his dick that you won’t get any work done. In an instant, he lifts you up, slamming you down on his dick so fucking hard that you squeal his name, your tiny hands gripping onto his shoulders, his neck, his hair. Just anywhere. “You look so pretty on my dick right now.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy!” You moan, and Chris can’t help but smile at your good fucking manners, despite the situation. God, he really just wants to ruin you. He rocks his hips up suddenly, fucking upwards into you, his hands on your hips controlling your every movement as he thrusts you up and down on his dick, and you scream bloody murder at how intensely good it feels.

“S-So big, it’s so big, daddy!” You whine, grinding down on him as if you’re starved for his cock. And Chris wants to capture every moment of this, he really wishes he could whip out his camera and film you, remember this first time. But his hands are more than occupied by you, supporting your body, holding you tight against him, bouncing you up and down on his cock. He remembers this is the position you guys had filmed your sex scene in for the movie. Fuck, it was crazy how you were out here filming sex scenes in movies when you barely knew the first thing about sex in real life.

But I could teach you.

“How does it feel, riding daddy’s dick on the premiere of your movie, huh?” Chris taunts you, reaching down to pinch your ass lewdly, loving how you scream for him. “How does it feel, finally submitting to your daddy after months of teasing me. Torturing me. Fucking tell me!”

You shake your head desperately, “W-Wasn’t teasing! P-Promise I wasn’t!” You cry, as if your dumb promise makes a difference to him. You’re absolutely sobbing with pleasure, the girth of his dick stretching you out, making your walls burn from taking him. And you take him, over and over, again and again, up and down, in and out. It’s like you’re a rag-doll – Chris controls your every movement. And you let him. You like it this way – he knows you like it like this. Him bouncing you on his dick, making you feel so fucking good, like no one has ever made you feel before.

Movie? Premiere? It’s all forgotten. He knows all you can think about is him, his dick, being owned by him. Being utterly wrecked by him. Ruined. Pussy torn open, used and abused. Claimed by his dick. Here in the bathroom, with your dress bunched up around your waist, tits out, pussy filled to the brim. Mascara running, hair come loose, carnal moans of pleasure and only the sound of his name leaving your lips.

Your pleasure’s mounting, building up into a crescendo that you can’t wait to reach. And Chris knows, of course he knows. He’ll always know. You’re panting loudly in his ear, body limp in his arms as he effectively uses you as a toy on his dick, pushing you up and down on it. And you love it. You thrive off of it. “Daddy, don’t stop! I’m so close, daddy! S-So close!”

Cupping your ass with both his hands, Chris stands up suddenly. Your legs automatically latch around his waist, locking yourself flush against him as he slams you into the wall. And now, now he fucks you like an animal, like a starved fucking animal just repeatedly jackhammering into you. You can’t even feel your legs anymore, you can’t hear yourself think. He’s effectively dumbed you down into just a toy – his doll.

“My little fucking baby,” He growls lowly, “Look how fucking adorable you look, dumber than ever on my cock. You’re gonna cum, baby? Make a mess around my fucking dick, huh? Tell me!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry, “Yes, daddy, g-gonna cum!”

“From now on, you’ll let me fuck you whenever the fuck I want.” Chris says to you darkly, biting and nipping at your earlobe, his hips still a blur as he fucks into you. “You gotta pay me back for all those months I couldn’t have you. All those months you fucking teased me. No, from now on, if I even look at you a certain way, you’ll let me fuck you. Be my obedient little girl, won’t you? Won’t you?”

“Y-Yes I will! I will, daddy! I promise I will!” You’re delirious, drunk on his cock, his dirty talk, his touch – his everything.

“You’ll let me fuck you whenever. Wherever. Howeverthe fuck I want. Won’t you, sweet baby? I don’t care where the fuck you are, if I want you then you’ll drop everything and run to me, you got that? In fact, you’ll stay with me. I’ll fucking keep you close. I don’t fucking care if this movie’s finished filming. I still want you near me. All. The. Fucking. Time.” He enunciates each word with a particularly hard thrust. “You got that?”

The dam breaks. Your orgasm almost squeezes the life out of him, your muscles contracting so violently around his cock. And you can’t believe it’s real, this feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure. It’s never, ever been this good for you before, this intense, this magical, this euphoric. You cry out his name, cry out daddy until it loses all meaning. White-hot waves of pleasure crash through your body, and he continues to thrust into you, riding you through your orgasm.

And Chris can’t believe how hot you look, coming undone while he fucks you. Even his hottest daydreams about you couldn’t do the real you justice. You’re so fucking beautiful, so sexy, squeezing his dick in such a delicious way that he really can’t seem to last any longer. And it’s only moments before he’s ready to blow, that your dumbed out, blissed out eyes suddenly open, and you’re scratching at his chest in blind panic, “Chris! Chris, I’m not on the pill!”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He growls, the animal inside of him swelling with joy. It’s music to his fucking ears. He’s happy he fucked you raw. And now he can fill you up. His dick twitches at the thought, and your little gasps egg him on even more. Ropes of his hot cum spill inside you, one spurt after another till he’s got you filled to the brim with even more of his thick cum dripping out of you because of course you can’t hold it all in.

“Oh… Oh my God…” You say, practically entranced by the thick white fluid that now seeps out of your pussy. Your lips parted; you reach down to touch it. Like you can’t help it. And Chris feels so proud, so fucking proud. Finally, he’s claimed you. Claimed his girl. Filled her up all nice and full with his seed. And he’s not gonna let her clean up either. Damn right she’s gonna go back and watch the rest of this movie with the reminder of him sticky between her legs.

His large hand covers your own inquisitive one. He hardens inside you once more when he sees that you’ve scooped up a bit of his cum which was running down your thigh. He brings your hand up to your face, prodding at your lips until they part, and you dutifully suck his cum off your finger for him – the image so fucking hot he almost can’t take it.

“Good girl.” Chris praises you, loving how you blush.

You look up at him, eyes bright and still dazed. Makeup ruined, cheeks red, lips bitten. “I’m sorry, Chris.” You say softly, small hand reaching up to touch his chest. “I’m honestly so sorry if I led you on. I had no idea. But I should’ve known better. I should’ve paid closer attention. I’m so sorry.”

Chris feels like his heart is going to fucking fall out of his chest. He feels it again, this overwhelming need to protect her, shelter her, keep her safe. He smirks, chucking her under the chin playfully. “That’s okay, baby. Because you’re gonna make it up to me, right?”

***

EPILOGUE – 18 MONTHS LATER

“So, Chris. Tell us. What’s next for you?” The journalist asks. It’s an intimate interview, a dark set. A leather couch, the interviewer sat across from him. It’s the final piece of press he has to do for his new action movie that’s just come out. And as much as he’s enjoyed the whole filming process, Chris only has one thing on his mind.

“Look, as amazing as all this has been, I think the thing I’m most looking forward to right now is going home.” He chuckles, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Just going back to Boston, you know? Back to my wife and our family.”

The interviewer smiles knowingly, “And how is your wife?”

Chris smiles. His wife. You. You’re amazing. And it wasn’t hard at all to get you to marry him. Not after the two of you started fucking regularly after that fateful night at your movie premiere almost two years ago. He had moved you into his apartment in LA, making sure to have easy access to you whenever he wanted to fuck you. Which was all the time. All the fucking time.

So it wasn’t that much of a surprise when he got you knocked up about two weeks later. And he remembers how distraught you had been, crying into his chest with three positive pregnancy tests on the table in front of you. “I can’t do this; I can’t do this!” You had cried, “I’m too young, I don’t know the first thing about having a baby!”

He remembers reassuring you, telling you that he was there for you, that he’d always be there. Persuading you to move into his big house in Boston with him, where he’d keep you safe and tucked away from the invasive paparazzi of LA. He even persuaded you to marry him, in a private ceremony with only a few guests including your parents, who were happier than ever to see their daughter respectfully married off in Boston and no longer in the cruel clutches of Hollywood.

And then, nine months later, you gifted him with his twins. Two perfect, tiny, wriggling baby boys that looked exactly like him. Chris couldn’t help but feel so fucking proud. And then you started talking about accepting this movie role, going back to Hollywood, filming again. And that animal inside of him awoke once more, unable to bear the thought of you going back to being an actress.

So he knocked you up again.

“My wife is perfect.” Chris answers the interviewer. “I’m really lucky to have met her when we did that movie together – because I can’t imagine a life without her now. She’s at home right now, taking care of our babies. It’s beautiful to watch.”

The interviewer looks absolutely enamoured. “Speaking of babies, baby number three is due any day now, isn’t it?”

Chris smiles and nods. He can’t wait to get back home to you, see you all round with his third baby growing inside of you, just about ready to pop. To him, it’s the most beautiful and breath-taking thing in the world. You, heavily pregnant, waiting for him in his home with his baby twins on your hip. That’s who you’re meant to be. And you’ve got only Chris to thank. You were far too delicate and innocent for Hollywood. Hollywood would have ruined you. Chris likes to think he saved you.

Because you’re a great actress. But you’re an even better housewife. And mother.

Turns out, waiting for you all those excruciating months was worth it. Because now, Chris has you for life.

the end

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed that! feedback would honestly be GREATLY appreciated, do tell me what you think! also, -> requests are open <-

A Lack of Choice

Pairing: merman!Andy Barber x Reader (A Spin on The Little Mermaid #2)

Summary: Taken on the night before your wedding, you wake up imprisoned in the depths of the sea with a merman that had darkness behind his beautiful eyes as your warden.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY NON CON SMUT CONTENT. soft dark coz he's still sweet on you but with dark themes (abduction, manipulation, conditioning/brainwashing, imprisonment, drugging, forced soulmate bond), non con somnophilia (unconscious unprotected fucking in human form), non con monster fucking (unprotected fucking in merman form), breeding kink, praise kink, choking

Word Count: 8.4k (One Shot)

A/N: This is One Shot #2 for my Mermaid AU in my Story Book Collection. I'm also offering this as tribute to @slothspaghettiwrites 's Marvelous Monster Mayhem Writing Challenge with the song prompt Closer by Nine Inch Nails. Actual lines are in bold.

You don't need to read the first one, but it is recommended so that you can have a more wholistic experience with the lore and how they all connect together. I'm so happy to be back!

Full Masterlist | Story Book Collection Masterlist

Andy snickered as Bucky all but flew out of his court after fulfilling his duty, a flurry of bubbles left from his hasty exit. Common. Predictable. Expected. Ever since he was forced to abdicate the throne to his sister, the entire kingdom had given him a wide berth especially after several instances where his grief and fury ended in injuries for himself and the subjects who were trying to pacify him.

With his fall from grace he was asked to retire to one of the castles that were further from the main city with only a handful of staff. It was an act of generosity from his sister, refusing to believe that he was irredeemable. He appreciated it and really he much preferred to be alone as he mourned and waited for his inevitable death.

Andy was slowly dying from heartbreak.

The experience was different for each one, the length and depth of pain varied from case to case. For Andy, he had been enduring for centuries now with his demeanor getting progressively colder and darker as the years passed. One could hardly believe that he was once a well loved benevolent king. The hollow silence in his chest was enough indication though.

It was only a matter of time now.

He could hardly remember at this point what a beating heart felt like, but he remembered the pain of his failed love in excruciating detail. His disdain of humans came from that catastrophe, falling in love with a woman’s false charms only to find out later that she had just been biding her time to kill him and to escape. He remembered the sting of the knife through his chest, but more than that he remembered the bite of her words afterwards. She never loved him. He had been a fool.

He leaned back on his throne, his muscular tail swaying lazily beneath him and his hair flowing in the water, as he thought over what Bucky had said. He was furious at first, having left his post as a Queen’s guard leaving his sister without protection on land and he was seconds away from ripping Bucky’s throat out with his sharp teeth but one thing he said had his outrage stopping in its tracks.

A girl.

There was a human girl gifted to Andy by his beloved sister. Their supply of humans were scarce and they had very short lifespans once taken so only a select few were provided with the privilege to breed with them. He was provided with humans regularly at first, having been born a royal it was important for the kingdom for his bloodline to continue. However after he mistreated the last few humans, he was cut off.

Andy had no shortage of sexual partners. Plenty of Merfolk still threw themselves at the opportunity to bed a royal, disgraced as he was. He was also undeniably attractive, the darkness in him adding a dangerous thrill to the sex but there was nothing like burying his cock in a human cunt. The thought alone of how hot and tight it felt was enough to make him harden and for his fins to curl in anticipation. He smirked.

Time for a visit.

He swapped his tail for legs as he walked into the cottage where his human was imprisoned, slipping on a pair of soft cotton trousers and foregoing a shirt. Shuri had outdone herself with the developments she had made through the years in creating a viable habitat for the humans underwater that would not only allow them to live comfortably, but would also prolong their shelf life. He made a mental note to send her a gift because the sight of you half naked and unconscious on the large bed had him almost lunging for you immediately.

He was immediately drawn to you, a faint echo of something forgotten sounded in his chest as he laid his eyes on you for the first time. He came around to your side of the bed, brushing the hair off your face gently before trailing down to trace along your jaw. His thumb lingered for a moment on your lips and then his hand went to circle your throat, squeezing just a little to feel the momentary hitch in your breathing.

You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

The swell of your breasts were calling to him, barely covered by the bikini you had been wearing when you were taken. Pinching and rubbing at a nipple over the fabric caused goosebumps to erupt over your skin. He smiled. You were so responsive to him even in this state.

“Good girl.”

Lower his hands traveled, over your hips and along your thighs before finally settling on his prize. He cupped your pussy and the heat he felt through the material of your bottoms had him groaning. He rubbed you through the fabric, slow yet firm in his movements. It didn’t take long until your damp arousal was eagerly meeting his hand and he could smell you.

Just a taste. He needed a taste.

Deft fingers pulled your bottoms aside and stroked your slit, spreading your slick around and up to your clit. You sighed quietly and your legs tried to close themselves, your body reacting instinctively to protect yourself. He chuckled as he nudged your legs apart once more for him. He knew the potion you were made to take for the journey down still had some time left before wearing off and your vulnerable defenseless state had him palming his cock over his pants.

He dipped a finger inside you, his jaw ticking at how tight you were. He drew the finger out of you, catching the scent of your arousal before slipping it into his mouth. He hummed as he swirled his tongue around it.

“Sweet.”

He watched you intently, noting how evenly and deeply your chest rose and fell. Your mouth was parted slightly and there was a heat radiating off your skin from his touching you. There was a softness and an innocence to you that made him forego his original plan to wait until you had woken. Why wait? He caught your chin between two fingers and pressed his lips on yours, a first kiss of many he was sure.

He would have you now.

His pants dropped to the floor easily and he crawled up on the bed over you, his face immediately coming up to your cunt. His cold breath blew on your heated sex and he was pleased to see your body jerk in reaction. Strong hands gripped your thighs and spread you wider, your bottoms casually tossed to the side to offer him unobstructed access and a perfect view of your glistening folds.

The first full taste of you on his tongue had him immediately diving back for more as his grip on your thighs tightened. Your taste was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough. He didn’t think he would ever get enough. He feasted on you, lapping at your folds and dipping his tongue inside you. You groaned when he sucked on your clit and your hips began to move sluggishly in response.

He smiled against you, looking up from his spot to watch your still unconscious form. Your brow was furrowed in confusion and your eyes were twitching beneath your closed lids as if you were fighting it, fighting him. He found that he liked that. His fingers came up inside you, twisting and curling to work you open for him. He loved how you were just dripping for him and clamping down on his fingers.

“So good for me.”

He quickened his pace, both his fingers and his mouth ravaging you. He swirled his tongue around your clit expertly, intent on pulling your first orgasm this way. Your hips moved more, following the fire that he was stroking inside of you until it built into an inferno that had you gushing your release into his waiting mouth with a sharp whimper.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered as he left a few last kisses on your quivering cunt.

He rose off the bed to kneel between your legs, gripping his now painfully hard erection in his hand. He pumped it slowly as he watched you sprawled helplessly beneath him, slapping the heavy length of him down on your clit. Your body jolted as he repeated the action, dipping his cock lower to catch your slick as his free hand roamed your body.

“Stop,” you slurred.

He chuckled at your feeble protest as he circled the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing in just the slightest bit to coat himself more. Your hands raised weakly to make him stop, but they fell away promptly as they felt too heavy for you.

“You will let me violate you,” he declared, groaning loudly as the head of his cock breached you.

Inch by inch he moved in and out of you, carefully stretching you to accommodate his extraordinary size. Your back arched at the intrusion, a whimper falling from your lips at the discomfort.

“No,” you mumbled even as your body was subconsciously bending to take him better.

“You will let me desecrate you,” he growled as he forced his way deeper into you.

“No,” you repeated quietly.

He chuckled darkly, groaning as he bottomed out. You were squeezing him so tight. The heat and wetness of your cunt enveloping him in a spell that almost made him lose control right then and there. You felt too good around him. Too perfect.

“Your body says otherwise,” he said as he pressed his lips sweetly to yours, a sharp contrast to how he was forcibly taking you. “This isn’t a choice. You’re mine now, honey.”

His thrusts started slowly, enjoying the sight of your juices shining on his cock every time he pulled out and how he could see himself bulging through your skin when he pushed in. He committed to memory the feel of you, rolling his hips and grinding to reach the deepest parts of you.

“You’re doing so well,” he groaned as he leaned closer to you, pulling your top down to palm your breasts. You felt so soft and he loved the way your body bent closer when he took a pebbled peak into his mouth. “You’re made for this. You’re made to take me.”

The way you were panting, gasping, and twisting your body spurred him on to go faster. He pounded into you as he held your bodies close, his pelvis rubbing against your clit to take you higher and higher. He could feel you choking his cock and he knew you were nearly there.

“That’s right. Cum for me,” he ordered. “Drown my cock, honey.”

In your unconscious haze you tumbled into oblivion, your body reacting to the pleasure he had forced on you by clenching down hard on him and trembling underneath him. Andy relished the feeling of you falling apart for him, loving the way you were milking him for all he could give. His thrusts stuttered before he was spilling into you with a loud grunt against the crook of your neck.

Huffing and trying to catch his breath, he kissed you deeply. He lifted himself off you, checking that you were still under the influence of the potion before getting up. He came back after cleaning himself in your bathroom, carefully wiping you of any trace of his indulgence before redressing you.

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead before he left you to rest. Slipping back into the ocean and into his tail. He would return once you awakened and introduce himself. He liked his new toy very much and he would have to say his thanks to his sister once she returns.

For now, he would have some fun.

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

You woke up with a pounding headache that made your vision swim as you crawled out of bed with a loud groan. You made your way to the bathroom, blindly holding on to the walls to steady yourself. What the hell did you and your fiance drink last night? You shook your head and regretted it immediately. Whatever the hell it was you were not drinking it again. The cold water you splashed on your face was a welcome relief and you drank greedily after, surprised at your own thirst. You promised to stay away from alcohol for the rest of your trip. Your fiance would surely agree knowing he had a lower tolerance than you.

Where was he anyway?

Bleary eyes searched the room for any sign of him, your memory still heavily muddled. You were too tired to really think about why he wasn’t in the room. Maybe he went for a walk. Hopefully he’ll come back with some breakfast. God, you hoped he would. A shower. You decided a shower would do you some good and could relieve some of the ache you felt in your muscles.

You stumbled across the room, intending to pull the first piece of fresh clothing you can get your hands on from your suitcase. Your steps abruptly halted, your bare feet suddenly now feeling like lead against the cold wooden floor. A disturbing realization washed over you.

This wasn’t your room.

This was a completely different room from the one you booked on this getaway and your suitcase was not in the corner you knew you left it in. Where the hell were you? Panic bubbled violently in your stomach and you fought the urge to vomit as you began to also accept that your fiance was likely not here as well.

You were kidnapped.

A cold sweat began to form on your skin as your mind came to grips with what was happening. Survival mode began to kick in. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down so that you can formulate a plan. You were alone in an unfamiliar place, but you were also unrestrained. Your eyes snapped to the front door of the room. It might be risky but you need to get an idea of where you were so that you can get home. Maybe you can find some help.

Your shaking hand reached for the doorknob, praying that it was unlocked. Your breath came out in a relieved huff when it turned without resistance. You gulped as you pulled the door open and stepped out of the room. What you saw was miles away from anything you expected. You gasped and your knees buckled. You struggled with every step forward. Your mind could hardly comprehend it, but there was no other explanation.

You were underwater.

Looking around you, you could clearly view sea creatures casually swimming by. There were fish of all colors and sizes, sharks that had you taking a step back, and countless other species that you could not name. They were all so beautiful, so mesmerizing to watch and you would have happily spent hours doing just that if not for the reason why you were treated to such a view.

Beyond the room, which looking back now was more a small cottage, was the purest of white sand you had ever seen. All that and yourself were encased under a transparent dome lined with soft lighting that mimicked almost perfectly the gentle rays of the sun, providing you with the needed warmth you suspected was essential with how freezing cold the bottom of the ocean would be.

It was like some sort of reverse aquarium and you were on display. Immediately you felt claustrophobic and your chest tightened with frantic despair. How were you expecting to escape from the depths of the sea? More importantly, who would have taken you and why?

Your second question was answered seconds later, but it was an answer that made even less sense than the location of your prison. Slowly approaching what appeared to be the only entryway to your enclosure was the stuff of myths.

A merman.

You watched, utterly mesmerized by the graceful yet strong movements of a tail in shades of blue with its scales sparkling like precious gems and adorned with stands of silver and gold. You followed him as his broad shoulders and toned arms ripped through the water, his muscled torso flexing with each stroke.

You had never seen a sight so strikingly beautiful.

You noticed now that there were two doors to your cage with a short tunnel connecting them. He slipped in with practiced ease and shut the outer door. You jumped back as a whirlwind of water engulfed him before the inner door softly hissed open. Your hand covered your mouth as you saw the merman now on two feet and if it were even possible, he was even more breathtaking.

“Please don’t be frightened,” he said softly, cautiously taking a step toward you.

His tousled hair and beard were still wet, your eyes following the droplets as they trailed down his bare torso until they disappeared beneath the thin cotton pants he was now somehow wearing. There was something commanding yet elegant in his stance, regal even.

“My name is Andy.”

All at once your muddy memory snapped to clarity in a manner so jolting that you fell to the ground. You had eloped and were celebrating the night before your marriage with your fiance at a charming beach resort where you both decided that a night swim was a good idea. You remembered the chilling fear of being dragged underwater and waking up in a dark cave next to your fiance who was desperately trying to negotiate his life to what you now realize was a merman as well. You remember punching him in the face in your fury when he said that they could keep you if they would only let him go. You remember being force fed a potion that tasted sweet and salty before you were once again pulled into unconsciousness.

The cold hand on your heated face brought you back and your eyes snapped open to meet the bluest pair you had ever seen, but the underlying turbulent darkness made you recoil on instinct. It was like the sea caught in a terrible storm and you were a rickety boat. Your mind was reeling as he smiled kindly down at you, cradling you close to his chest with his hand continuing to caress your face.

“You remember, don’t you?” he said sadly, uncharacteristically feeling protective of you at the sight of your distress. Something in his chest pulled and thudded softly.

All your instincts screamed at you to move away, but he was just so compelling that you could hardly move. He pulled you closer to his chest and tried to soothe you. At the back of your fear-addled mind, it registered how cold his skin was and how you couldn’t hear his heartbeat.

“You’re safe here, honey. I’ll take care of you.” He stood up with you in his arms, your voice caught in your throat. “I brought you some food. You should eat. Get your strength back.”

You watched in silent shock as he carried you inside and sat you down gently on the bed, pulling the covers over your shaking form. You didn’t even realize that you were trembling. Andy moved around the small kitchen with the same grace and fluidity as when he was swimming.

Later, you faintly registered the smell of hot food and that you were being picked up again. The blanket was still wrapped around you as he sat on the small dining table with you on his lap. He cradled you like you were precious as he brought the spoonful to your lips.

“Please eat something. Even just a little.”

His voice was low and commanding yet also gently coaxing. The pointed look he threw you when you hesitated prompted you to open your mouth. He smiled as you chewed and oddly you found yourself feeling a sense of satisfaction when he did.

“Good girl.”

Why was that?

Why are you feeling an impulse to please him?

Why are you feeling safe in his arms?

He kept feeding you until you finished the whole serving, the hearty seafood soup warming you and lulling you to sleep. Your head lolled to the side, automatically burrowing against the crook of his neck.

“I wanna go home,” you mumbled, your eyes drooping close. The stress of the day’s discoveries weighed down on you.

His scent was the last thing on your mind before sleep claimed you along with the puzzlement of why you weren’t fighting back at all. He shushed you and brushed your hair delicately away from your face before he kissed your forehead gently.

“This is your home now, honey,” he said softly. “Rest for now. I’ll take care of you.”

His hand traveled from your face, down the column of your neck, cupping firmly on one breast and brushing his thumb over it until the nipple grew hard. He groaned as he pulled your top down and palmed you harder, squeezing your flesh before lowering his mouth to circle his tongue around the peak.

Lower his hand went to slip beneath your bottoms and immediately dip into your cunt. His thumb pressed onto your clit as his fingers worked you open, your back arching to press closer to him as you drenched his fingers.

A sinister smile grew on his face. The inherent allure of merfolk was irresistible for humans, but for those from a royal bloodline it was extremely potent. He would keep you. You would never leave him.

Not like Laurie.

“I’ll take good care of you.”

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

Days melted into weeks and you started to lose all sense of time. The only indication you had of the time of day was the changing lights in your pod and Andy’s visits. He visited you everyday, always with a little net brimming with a fresh catch that he would cook for you.

He always cooked for you.

Being the only other creature that you interacted with, you began to look forward to his visits. Lately, you’ve found yourself waiting by the open door and when he arrived you couldn’t help the excitement you felt or the small smile on your face.

You were mostly silent during his visits, still unsure of how you should be behaving because while you had been taken Andy had been nothing but good to you. You watched him as he moved around your new home as he told you stories about this underwater world. You listened in rapt fascination, asking questions here and there about one of the creatures you saw gliding outside your pod.

You watched as he cleaned the fish with skilled hands at the sink while a pan sizzled with fragrant seasoning beside him. It was curious how a creature of the sea seemed so comfortable with mundane human tasks. You found it amazing how in the deep dark sea was this modern abode fitted with appliances that were much better than what you had on land.

How was there butter?

You wanted to ask. You wanted to know more about this new world you were introduced to. You had a million questions running through your mind, but in front of your excited curiosity was the stifling apprehension.

“I want to go home,” you murmured, your arms circling around you.

“You are home, honey,” he said gently. Always the same answer. Always the same patient tone. “Come eat now.”

And like always he lifted you into his arms and sat you on his lap as he fed you. His body felt solid against yours, but his touch was always soft and almost protective.

“I want to go home.”

You winced as his grip on your waist got tighter and the storm behind his eyes came to the forefront for a moment. You raised your chin in defiance even as your lower lip quivered in fear. You could have sworn that you saw him smirk for a split second before his expression and touch softened once more.

“Don’t I take good care of you here, honey?” He cupped your face to keep your eyes locked, his voice taking a more melodic tone. “Answer me.”

The longer you stared into his vivid blue eyes, the more you felt your resolve crumble. Your mind grew foggy until all that was there was his unnaturally beautiful face and the compulsion to please him.

“You do.”

His smile warmed you and the slow stroking he was doing sent sparks dancing all across your skin. This was the first time he was using the siren song on you and he was thoroughly enjoying seeing you fight uselessly against it. He thought that you were doing well, the mild sedatives he has putting in your meals leaving you in a weakened state but he obviously underestimated your will.

“Don’t you like being with me here?”

Your eyes started to glaze over and a soft moan escaped your lips as his hand moved to more sensitive skin. His smile grew wider, enjoying seeing you slowly give in as your eyes became more glazed.

“I do.”

“Tell me what you want, honey.”

You gasped as his hand rubbed at your clothed cunt, his lips a breath away from yours. His breath smelled sweet and drew you closer until your lips grazed his only for him to pull away. You whined at his teasing.

“Tell me what you want.”

Your hips chased his hand, seeking more friction for your pulsating cunt. You panted as his hand grew rougher with you, your mind fully clouding over. He prompted you again for an answer and you whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself to your senses.

“I want to go home.”

All at once Andy’s movements stopped and his expression hardened. Your will was stronger than he anticipated. He would have to break you down in a different way. You would not leave him. He would not allow it.

Not like Laurie.

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

Andy was angry with you. There was no doubt about that, but you thought that he would eventually forgive you. You thought that it would eventually return to how it was. Disturbingly, you wanted it to go back to how it was. He still came to you everyday, but for the next two weeks he only came to cook your meals and feed you. He didn’t talk, only going about your new home to quickly make you food and check that you still had supplies. He barely looked at you, only when he gave you a stern look as he raised the food to your lips did your eyes meet. It made you squirm in his lap as you accepted the bite without complaint.

You missed his voice.

After that he stopped feeding you on his lap. It was strange to feel so shocked when for the first time he sat you down on the chair beside him before feeding you. It was strange how your face was contorted in confusion. He still didn’t talk. He still barely looked at you. You missed feeling his strong thighs beneath you.

You missed his touch.

After that he stopped feeding you, leaving promptly after he had finished cooking your meal for the day. He just left the plate on the table and exited. He still didn’t talk. He looked at you only once. You whimpered just before he stepped out the door, halting him only for a moment.

You missed his company.

This continued for weeks until it reached a point where he would just leave the ingredients for your meal on your kitchen counter, leaving you to cater to yourself. You didn’t realize until then how much he spoiled you. How much he really took care of you. Andy had been nothing but gentle to you as far as you knew and despite your better judgement, you felt like you were being ungrateful.

You missed Andy.

You had a vague idea of when Andy came to you, it wasn’t so much the time but your body and mind just somehow knew when to anticipate his arrival. When he didn’t walk through your door on time one day, you worked hard to tamp down the anxiety that was bubbling in your chest. Hours passed and still no Andy. Dejected and now feeling hungry, you walked out of your cabin and immediately spotted the small netted bag by the entrance of your pod.

Andy had come.

But he did not come to see you.

This continued for a while, with Andy leaving before you could even catch sight of him. You tried to anticipate him earlier, wake up earlier, wait by the door. You found yourself desperately trying to catch just a glimpse of him. Following your impulse, you had taken to sleeping and waiting by your pod’s entrance.

Somehow he always managed to slip out before you could catch him, the little netted bag was the only evidence that he had been there. Until one day you were so adamant to keep awake until he next came, fighting your body’s urge to rest and close your eyes. You were teetering between consciousness and the tired darkness when you sensed his arrival. Your hand shot out to grab weakly at the fabric of his pants, you looked up from where you were laying on the ground and spoke in a voice that was scratchy from not being used in so long.

“I’m sorry, Andy.” Your chest felt heavy and you were suddenly racked with sobs, your next words coming out in wet hiccups. “Please don’t go.”

Your eyes were blurred by your tears, the loneliness of the months with Andy ignoring you hitting you like a tidal wave. You held on tighter to his pant leg when he moved, thinking that he was leaving again only to see him crouch down and gently lift you into his arms. He was cooing soft reassurances in your ear as he carried you back into the cabin, you clinging on as if he would evaporate into sea foam if you let go. Finally hearing his voice again brought some life back into you, feeling his arms around you made you sag in relief.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated as you buried your face in his neck, breathing his unique scent in as much as you could in fear that he would deprive you again.

“You’re forgiven, honey. It’s okay,” he shushed you, rubbing his face against the top of your head. “You’re freezing. You shouldn’t have stayed out there. Let’s get you to bed now. You should sleep.”

He laid you on the bed and tucked the covers in around you, making sure that your shivering would cease soon. Before he could walk away though, your hand reached out again to grasp onto his hand.

“Please stay,” you pleaded softly, your eyes not meeting his in case he rejected you.

Andy couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that curled on his lips as he wordlessly laid himself next to you. You scurried to press yourself as close as possible to him, folding yourself against his body until every part of you was touching some part of him. He chuckled as he ran his hand up and down your back to encourage you to sleep, a dull thud again echoing in his chest. As you slowly drifted off to sleep, the loneliness that had been pressing down heavily on you from his absence started to lift.

You wouldn’t leave him now.

Not like Laurie.

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

It was hard not to notice the change in you and Andy was feeling very smug about it. The biggest change was that you were now initiating touch yourself, going so far as to voluntarily sit on his lap and silently wait for him to feed you. You waited for him to feed you a meal that for the first time you had asked to help prepare.

He rubbed slow firm circles with his thumb on the small of your back as he watched you finish your food. Every time he would move away from you, your grip on him would grow tighter. He kept smiling proudly at you, pleased at the success of his plan. You had been very good for him the past month, so good that he felt you deserved a reward.

He came to your pod one day with a beaming smile on his face at the image of you waiting for him by your open door. He pulled out a vial from his pocket and presented it to you.

"What's that?" you asked with your head tilted to the side as you observed the liquid slosh around in the glass.

"You've been so good for me, honey, that I wanted to give you a gift," he said sweetly, brushing your cheek tenderly with his free hand. "Do you wanna go for a swim?"

Your eyes widened and your lips parted in surprise, but the small remaining rational part of your mind began raising alarm bells. The last time you took a drink from a merman had you waking up as a deep sea captive. Taking it for confusion, he smiled warmly at you as he explained.

"This potion will allow you to breathe underwater for a little while. I thought you might like to get out for a bit," he said, pausing to rub his nose affectionately against yours. "Would you like that, honey?"

You knew that you should have controlled your enthusiasm better, but the sheer joy you felt at the chance to go out and explore was too much to contain. It was the first time Andy saw you smile this way; genuine, bright, hopeful, and grateful. There was that odd muffled thudding again in his chest that he couldn’t explain.

You looked so beautiful smiling.

"But you have to promise to stay close to me, okay? There are lots of things out there that could hurt you. Do you understand, honey?"

Nodding your head rapidly, you agreed. You practically skipped about the room as you pulled out swimwear, rushing to get dressed before he changed his mind. In your rush, you didn't notice how Andy's eyes darkened with desire as you changed in front of him. It immediately switched to warm fondness when you stood in front of him ready to go and practically bouncing with excitement.

He couldn't help it. You just looked so adorable. He lifted your chin up gently and leaned in to lay his lips lightly over yours. The widening of your eyes and the heat creeping up your face only made him want to kiss you some more, maybe spend the day ravishing a fully lucid you for a change, but he promised you a swim so he took your hand and pulled you toward the gates of your pod.

Your heart began to race as you got nearer. It wasn't freedom, but it was the closest to it you would have in what felt like forever. You tugged on his arm to halt his steps and he quirked an eyebrow at you in question.

"Thank you, Andy," you mutter shyly.

He smiled widely at you, pleased that you were now acting properly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you toward the gates. Just as he was about to open the intricate locks, another mermaid urgently approached. She swam to the side, stopping as near as she could to you both and stared intently at Andy through the glass. You've seen him interact with his fellow Merfolk before and you recognized from the way his expressions changed that they were talking telepathically.

As the mermaid swam away, Andy sighed deeply and turned toward you with a regretful expression. Your own face turned crestfallen, knowing already that your little field trip would not be pushing through.

“I’m so sorry, honey. They need me for something urgent, but it shouldn’t take too long,” he frowned at your apparent disappointment, wanting so much for your bright smile to return. He took your hand and placed the potion vial on it, his eyes reassuring you of his promise. “I said that I would take you out for being good and I intend to keep that promise. Can you be good for me for just a bit more and wait?”

“I can,” you said, trying to soften the sadness that was still etched on your face.

“Good girl,” he smiled at you and kissed your cheek.

You watched as he opened the intricate locks and weakly waved goodbye as he swam away, his tail slicing through the water easily. You sighed as you turned the vial over in your hand, your mind blank of any thought except your yearning for Andy. Your hand stopped when a sudden thought hit you.

You had the potion.

And Andy was gone.

The gears in your mind began to turn and suddenly the fog lifted, the fog that had wrapped around you and weighed you down into this subservient version of yourself. The fog that had made you entirely dependent on Andy’s existence evaporated and you were thinking clearly for the first time since you’ve been there.

You could escape.

It didn’t take you another second to decide. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your hand shook as you uncorked the small bottle. You didn’t hesitate to down the whole thing before you rushed to the gates, the empty bottle dropped haphazardly on the ground. Having stood by Andy earlier granted you a view on how to work the locks and it was fortunate that you were paying attention. You paid little mind to how your whole body was dropping in temperature from the effects of the potion, almost yelling in victory as you succeeded in prying open the first gate.

When the water began to fill the small tunnel, your breathing sped up exponentially. You were understandably panicking, trapped in a confined space that was slowly filling up with water. Human self-preservation dictates that you hold your breath as it reaches your chin, your body flailing until the rational part of your brain tells you that you should be able to survive it. You made a conscious effort to carefully try breathing in and opening your eyes, cautiously experimenting until your body fully adjusted.

You couldn’t waste any more time. You didn’t know how long the effects of the potion would last or how soon Andy would return. You just hoped that you had enough to reach the surface. With renewed determination, you opened the second gate and braved the open sea.

You had no idea where you were, all you knew was you had to swim upwards. The water was freezing, your limbs struggled to propel you, and frightening creatures crossed your path. Still, you kept your will set strongly toward your freedom. You don’t know how long you’ve been swimming now, your arms and legs felt like they would fall off from the exhaustion and you were getting lightheaded from the effort. Your heartbeat began to slow into hard thuds, struggling to keep going and you feared that this was how you would die. Just as you were about to succumb, the fates showed that they had other plans for you.

Light. There was light.

It must be daylight on the surface by the way the sun was shining down on the waters, the light was dancing and welcoming you. The surface. You were nearly to the surface. You forced yourself forward, the surge of hope fueling you to make that last stretch. So focused were you on your task that it wasn’t until the hair stood on the back of your neck that you were alerted to the danger. You nervously turned your body to the source and regretted it immediately.

Andy.

And he was furious.

Your eyes widened as you saw the expression on his face. Never had you seen that look on his face, a mix of burning rage and cold mocking, that even from this distance it filled you with a cold dread.

Run.

Your mind screamed at you and snapped you back into your senses as you saw him rapidly close the distance between you. You put all your remaining energy into getting away.The light was sonear. You were so near to your escape that you could almost reach your hand out to feel the warmth of the sun.

A garbled scream tore through your lips as you were roughly pulled down to come face to face with Andy’s dark sneer. This was the first time you had seen him in this form this close and for a moment you were hypnotized by just how magnificent he was. His eyes were an even darker shade of blue but also more vivid, the storm you had seen early on was front and center. Scales were coating the sides of his neck, leading up to his ears that were now more pointed in what looked to be small fins. His torso was bare and the texture of his tail as it rubbed against your legs was indescribable. Circling his head was a thin intricate band of gold, jewels, and pearls.

A crown.

You gulped as you started to struggle away from him. Your fear was threatening to engulf you, but you fought it as hard as you fought to be released from Andy’s grip. He always had a different air about him. Andy it seems was no ordinary merman.

And you had pissed him off.

“Did you think that you could get away from me that easily, honey?”

You shook off the shock of hearing him in your mind and the venom in his tone, your own screaming for him to let you go. Your screams came out in wild air bubbles from your mouth as his grip on you tightened further. You were sure they would leave bruises.

"You promised you would be good. Now I have to punish you."

"No, Andy! Please let me go!"

Your head craned to search for the light of the surface, to search for hope, and you shivered as Andy took this as an opportunity to kiss roughly along your neck. His growl against your skin sent a shameful heat through your core and the bite he left just below your ear had you shaking.

"How else are you going to learn where your place is, honey?" he said, the threat was unmistakable in his tone. "How else are you going to learn that you're mine?"

He pulled away from your neck only to pin you with his angry glare before crashing his lips to yours. You were frozen as he conquered your mouth, his tongue delving in to claim yours. It was demanding, angry, and possessive. You gasped as you tore yourself away, pushing at his chest desperately to gain distance.

A lucky kick to his abdomen propelled you away and you could practically feel his annoyance rippling in the water as you swam as hard as you could. You gained some distance only for his hand to catch you by the back of your bikini bra, but you fought. You fought with everything you had until your top was ripped from your body, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that he was shouting at you as you continued to slip from his grasp, his nails leaving angry marks on your skin. You didn’t care that the next time he grabbed for you, he caught your bottoms and tore them off. You didn’t care that you were now stark naked trying to escape the most dangerous predator you had ever encountered. You didn’t care.

Not when the surface was so near.

You kicked yourself upward toward the light, your heartbeat deafening to your own ears. One more stroke. Just one more. Finally, your head pierced through the surface and the fresh air greeted you. It almost overwhelmed you, unaccustomed now to how real air felt like. What it tasted like. You were greedy in your intake, absorbing as much as you could and stretching your arms out to feel the heat of the sun.

A quick glance around and you realized that you were in a cave with an opening just a few steps ahead. Craning your neck, you could see that the opening led to land and if you listened carefully you could almost make out the sound of birds.

Land.

There was land.

You were so elated that you could cry, but it was short lived as you felt yourself being dragged down underwater before you could even grab onto the rocks that lined the edge. Andy had a death grip around you now, his arms circling your torso and his tail fins wrapping around your ankles to keep you from flailing.

“You’re mine.”

His eyes flashed in warning before his mouth latched onto one hardened nipple. Your back arched at the shocking sensation of his tongue lashing at you. You tried to wriggle free, pushing hard at his wide shoulders but the way his other hand was now snaking down to your core was sending jolts of arousal through you.

“I’m going to show you that you’re mine.”

At that he roughly thrust two fingers into your cunt, your lips opening in a silent scream. You felt humiliated as your core instinctively gripped him tighter, encouraging the assault he was subjecting you to. He chuckled darkly at how wet you were, the nights he had spent to train your body to his touch were well worth it.

His fingers quickened, curling and twisting the way he has come to know drove you higher into ecstasy. He could see the fight in you dissolving, a mixture of fatigue from escaping and the lust that was burning through your skin. He released you momentarily only to lift you until he could close his mouth on your clit, his fingers never slowing in their movements. The addition of his mouth sucking almost violently on your throbbing pearl threw you over the edge, your hips moving on their own to grind on his face to prolong your high.

You were still reeling from your climax, your breathing shallow and laboured, that you didn’t realize he had taken you back to the surface until you felt the thick warm air. He leaned you against the rocks as he lifted your thighs up to circle his hips, your body silently conforming. His tail was rough yet slippery beneath your thighs, almost like beard stubble and it sent shivers dancing across your skin.

“This time I want to hear you.”

Your eyes snapped to attention and met his, the afterglow of your orgasm quickly replaced by a chilling fear. The cocky smirk he had should have been enough to prompt you to resume fighting him, but instead it froze you in place.

“Scream for me, honey.”

Scream you did as he buried his cock inside you in one forceful thrust, your walls struggling to accommodate his inhuman size. His attack was relentless and punishing, driven by a need to possess you in every way possible. Your moans of pleasure and pain echoed through the cavern, your body spiralling uncontrollably into delirium.

“You feel just as good as the first time.” He laughed at the look of confused panic on your face as he snapped his hips, his cock punching at your cervix. “That’s right, honey. This isn’t the first time for us. Not that you were conscious during the others.”

That was when you fully realized that there was no escape. You had been fooling yourself into thinking that you could go back to whatever remained of your past life. The moment that Andy had laid eyes on you had sealed your fate. He had claimed you long before this moment. You were his.

“You’re going to look so good carrying my heirs. I’m going to keep you dripping with my cum,” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten. His hand came up to your neck, squeezing just enough to have you playing on the edge of consciousness. “Give yourself to me. Bind yourself to me.”

He punctuated each command with a sharp thrust that had the coil in your core tightening painfully, begging for release. His hand around your throat tightened at your silence, warning you to obey. His gaze was burning through yours.

“Tell me your mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, resigned to your fate. You were resigned to the choice made for you. “I bind myself to you.”

Upon your words a searing pain erupted around your neck, beneath the skin that he clutched. You screamed as you felt the fire crawl precisely across your skin. Andy watched as a fine white light etched intricate patterns in a collar around your throat, a pattern that was replicated on his left bicep. An unbreakable proof of his command over you.

A contract to bind

Two souls tied

One as master

The other slave

Unyielding and unbreakable

A mark forever engraved

The voice of the ancients enveloped you both, blessing your union. Soon the pain of the marking evolved to that of heightened pleasure and Andy’s pace grew hurried, fueled by purpose to formalize your binding in the most intimate way. He knew by the way you were panting and how your walls were fluttering that you were close. He kept his eyes on you, wanting to see with clarity just how beautiful you would look coming undone.

“Cum for me, honey.” His thumb came to thrum urgently on your clit. “Cum for me now.”

The scream that tore through your chest and the shaking of your body as you were consumed by the most powerful release you had ever experienced, dragged Andy to his own finish. He groaned loudly against your mouth as he gave a few more harsh thrusts, spilling all of himself deep inside you.

“Say it,” he commanded as you both struggled to come down from your high. “Say your mine.”

You answered with the only thing you could. The only truth that there was. The only words that he would accept. The only answer that you knew deep in your spirit.

“I’m yours.”

Inside Andy’s barren chest came the soft thudding again, louder now this time and more persistent. Louder and louder it grew until he could feel it synchronize with the rapid beating of yours.

His heartbeat.

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