#cheats Toy Story Drop

[neopuppy]

Our Sick Story, Thus Far (M)

Teddy Bear—> (yes you have to read this first)

pairing. Jeno x female reader x Haechan x ?

genre. college AU, pwp, dark fic, angst, M/F

wc. 29k

warning. profanity, bullying, forced relationship, cheating, dr*g use mentioned, blackmailing, coercion, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc, is anyone in this story actually a good person??(the answer: no), stockholm vibes. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Our Sick Story(Thus Far)//Atreyu

a/n. it’s been a long time coming and I hope the wait was worth it for this story that I had no business writing to begin with😅

dedicated to the messages I received letting me know Teddy Bear made them wanna throw up. you are going to love this one! and @notncdeeh for consistently bothering me to finish writing this💚

smut warnings. dubcon/noncon elements(DO NOT read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), Jeno refers to y/n as ‘Teddy’ often, no teddy plush shall be spared, dacryphyilia, humiliation, degradation/praise, oral, anal, rimming, finger sucking, sub/dom dynamics, switching, hair pulling, slapping, protected and unprotected sex, breeding, impreg kink/forced pregnancy, cock warming, hidden camera use, choking, mind break, surprise character smut(👀).

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Art class had taught you more than expected when you chose the extra curriculum for ‘stress relief’ as the school’s counselor put it, emphasizing how fast you will burn out if you don’t allow yourself one light work subject.

‘Paint me something pretty today.’ Jeno smirked near the entrance, stepping backward to keep his gaze on yours until he could no longer see you from the hallway.

Blue, sky blue. 

Jeno’s favorite color is sky blue, which he mentioned one day when grabbing you after class. The only one of your courses he’d been unable to transfer into because it’d interfere with his degree.

‘It’s a shame we can’t be together all day.’ Jeno traced a faded spot along the column of your throat while you studied color theory. A mixture of blue and yellow bruises speckled with red bits of gnawed skin. 

Art class has taught you many things, one being- you aren’t very artistic, and that much like the blue sky had turned darker earlier these days, so had your mind. 

Jeno rained trickles of blues into your favorite colors, he muddied a bright day, stained pools of misery around your world.

Sky blue is an ugly color, you think, because even as he smiled with an arm slung over your shoulders walking through the first drops of November rain; Jeno robbed hues of yellow and gold from the sun. He gathered red from the last days of summer heat and stormed through your life on a cloud tainting everything a miserable shade of black.

Art class had really become your everyday sanctuary, a time away from him. Time to pretend that Jeno had never invaded your days.

A time to daydream from aw you hid behind a canvas, imagine ‘what if’, and admire a student from across too focused on his work to spare you a glance.

and when Jeno would arrive ready to prance you through the halls as his play thing, his little toy, you couldn’t help but wonder..

In another life you could have fallen for Jeno. You could have loved him, developed a healthy relationship, formed fond memories to reflect upon together in the future.

But in this life, you hate him.

Hate may be a strong word, but as you sit across from the bane of your existence, you know one thing is certain.

You hate Jeno Lee.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Perhaps it is to your detriment that Jeno has made you feel nothing, unless numbness can be classified as an emotion.

By the round of omnipresent gasps and whispers that reach your ears each time you enter a room with him, it’s hard to not fixate on the way his presence alone stirs the first rumble of what can only be classified as a concrete shattering earthquake. Maybe that’s the problem, because even when Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, leading you through the cafeteria to sit at a table alone with eyes of vultures ready to pick your flesh apart inch by inch; you cannot find it in yourself to care. Not anymore, not even close, not even a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.” Jeno whispers, fixing your loose locks to one side. “It’s really cute how you think this is enough to cover yourself and hide from me.”

Bony fingers trace patterns of sadness atop the marks he’s drawn along your throat. “Pretty.”

Cute. Pretty. Meaningless compliments, because how could they hold any meaning pouring from a soul filled with nothing but darkness.

Even as you sit pressed to his side in the back of the library, you feel sick, scribbling a mental note to wear your hair up more often. His compliments replay like a broken record, scratching the way up your thigh to a cut between the juncture of your knee. Your teeth clench as you claw your jagged nails up your inner thigh, attempting to make the mental gash real just to feel something. Dig the wound deeper, much like Jeno’s sweet words strike similar to the tip of a blunt tip knife; aimed recklessly at your soul slicing through inch by inch. Cutting you open until your blood has been drained of all life.

His eyebrows furrow, gaze following along to your hand and slapping your wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Great!” Jeno pipes up, grabbing your bag. “So do I.”

“Jeno..”

Standing up, he smiles expectantly, lip quirked to one side daring you to speak out loud against him. It’s useless, you know better by now.

“Can we make it fast this time? The bell will ring soon..” you mumble quietly, walking alongside him toward the exit.

“Worried you’ll miss your precious little painting class?” Jeno nudges you toward the mens bathroom, grabbing a hold around your elbow as he steps in first. “EMPTY OUT!” He roars, followed by an urgent shuffle and toilet flushing as one of the new Freshmen you recognize scuttles out with his head ducked, toilet paper attached to the back of his sneaker. 

Jeno laughs breathily, entertained by the younger's fearful exit. The fear that he can instill in anyone easily with the snap of his fingers, or a mere glance. Turning toward you, he smiles, nodding to one of the stalls. “All yours.”

“That wasn’t necessary..” you say quietly, moving past him to find the cleanest stall available, nose scrunched in disgust as you settle on one and turn to shut the door. “Shit.” You startle jumping back, clutching at your chest.

Jeno latches onto the stalls frame, peering down at you. “No need to close the door Teddy, it’s only me.”

“Jeno, please..”

“You know I hate it when you do that.” Jeno swings his body back and forth, head shaking side to side slowly. “You said you need to use the bathroom?”

Locking your eyes to the floor, you’re at least thankful for choosing a skirt to wear today, lifting, sliding your underwear to your knees as you squat down and settle with your skirt fanned out over your thighs.

Jeno turns to laugh, rolling his eyes. “The way you still act so shy, like you’re ashamed..” 

As if he hasn’t defiled you and had his way with you in every which way he prefers. “Cute.” Jeno’s gaze traces up from your sneakers to where your knees clench together, running his tongue under the inside of his lip. “Done?”

Scooting closer, his arms drop down to his sides, shoulders appearing more broad from where he looms above you. “And look at that, with time to spare still.” 

Jeno grips around your upper arm, hoisting you up to your feet, panicked as you’d just begun to reach for the roll of toilet paper. “What’re yo—stop!”

Ignoring you, he flips you around to press your back against the stall, licking across his lips akin to a rabid animal. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean you up.”

He drops to his knees, bunching your skirt up to your waist as he perches one of your legs upon his shoulder, face burying between your thighs. 

“Jeno, don’t! That’s too—“

The drag of his tongue has you choking, squirming back to get away as heat fills your cheeks, completely mortified by the sweep of his tongue running up and down. “N-no!”

Jeno groans, face shaking side to side as he makes sure to cover each inch of the skin between your thighs, tongue greedily running rampant between your folds. “That’s so disgusting.” You cry, pushing at his head, nails dug into his scalp

Jeno rushes back with a hiss, eyes snapping open wildly as he apprehends your wrists and clutches around your forearms roughly, returning the feeling with his short filed nails. “Funny how you only shut up at the worst times.” Overpowered, he pulls on your arms to launch himself back up, twisting them around your back painfully to press you to the stall chest first. “So difficult.”

Returning to his knees, he flips your skirt back up, keeping your wrists tethered with one hand. “Thought you wanted to get to class on time?” Jeno’s nose drags between your bottom, sucking in a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

He groans, biting down on the cleft of your ass hard enough to leave marks behind. A new one to join the rest that he makes sure to add daily. “Nothing about this is disgusting.” Cupping one of your buttcheeks, he bounces the meaty flesh against his face, eyes rolling up as his nose dips against your tight ring of muscle. 

“Not there!” You wheeze, scrabbling to get away by uselessly scratching down the wall. 

“You’ll get used to it.” He rumbles against your core, lips circling your entrance with a lewd slurp; not missing a drop of your arousal beginning to drip out. “Ridiculous how good you taste.” 

Clapping your ass against his cheek without pause, Jeno’s neck bends back more, jaw opening wide to swipe his tongue from your clit to your hole, growling between short staggered breaths. Each drag of his nose slowly circling your rim humiliates you worse, biting down to keep in your complaints the more he goes for it. Splaying out his palm, he spreads your ass completely open, unveiling the taut ring of muscle clenching helplessly.

Jeno kisses at the backs of his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as his index finger extends to tap and tease your rim, cheek dimpling to one side the more you fail to pull away. “You’ll let me fuck you here next, yeah?” He laughs, pushing your trapped fist into your lower back to form a deep arch. “Fill up all your holes, is that what you want?”

“N-no..” You grimace, face pressed to the chill bathroom stall. “Please, hurry, please.”

His tongue clicks obnoxiously, blowing on your rim before setting down a searing kiss, tongue smoothing around in a circle. “Why should I hurry? I don’t even get to fuck you.” He sneers, eyeing the time on his wrist. 

“Later,” you pipe up fast, rutting back against his face to convince him. “After school, we can.. do that..” 

His eyebrows shoot high, peering up in surprise. “Oh yeah? I’ll hold you to that, Teddy.” He bites down on your buttcheek again for good measure, nipping the skin roughly. “Now be good, and hold yourself open if you want to make it on time.” His grip on your wrist loosens, shaking off the sting left behind only for a second before he slaps your palms down on your butt and adjusts your position to expose both your holes. “That’s it.”

Thick arms circle around your thighs, biceps flexing to keep a snug grip on you as his hot tongue returns to your center and glides between your folds, inching lower until his lips can wrap around your clit.

“Uhhnnghhh..” you jolt, firmly tucking in your mouth to suppress a moan from soaring out.

Jeno’s hands swipe up the front of your thighs, gliding his mouth and nose from your wet hole to your clit with teasing firm flicks of his tongue; three of his digits find your bundle of nerves right as his mouth latches back around your entrance. His tongue buries deep, lifting your toes to curl up off the floor, knocking your forehead against the wall as you fight to keep in a desperate cry. 

He’s relentless, tongue expertly waving against your insides, the muscle strong and thick. “Ugh!” A whine breaks through your sealed lips, smacking the stall as he taps your clit repeatedly, urging you to break down and squeeze your release around his tongue.

Jeno draws out, mouth a mess of shiny wet, panting heavily. “Come on, give me what I want.” He slaps your clit roughly, spitting at your entrance before plunging in, nosing at your rim harshly as he struggles to breathe out of his nostrils. He grumbles between choked breaths, tongue working in and out of your hole with precise thrusts. Each rub to you rim, stroke against your clit, and incessant roll of his tongue inside of you shoots straight through your legs, ready to collapse if not for his arms keeping you held in place.

“Je—I—“ your eyes roll back, grateful that he can’t see the wash of pleasure pouring down your face. Turned putty under his ministrations as you clamp around his tongue shamefully, scratching down the stall in a weak attempt to get away.

Jeno drags out only to lick up the trickle that managed to escape his mouth, lapping your inner thighs clean with a deep moan. Each swipe of his tongue raises your humiliation up higher, hissing and jerking away when he reaches the cut along your knee.

“What is this?” He grips a hold around your calve, forcing you to balance on one leg to get an up close look and inspect how deep the wound goes. “When did you do this?”

“Don’t know, think when I ran down the stairs to meet you this morning the stair bannister skimmed my leg..”

He grunts displeased, setting your foot down to stand and kick open the door. “Come here.”

Jeno motions to the sinks, dropping both of your backpacks down next to you on the counter. “Does it hurt?”

He examines your knee closer, propping your foot to rest along the sink ledge, tongue poked between his teeth. 

“Why do you care?” You ask with a scowl, reassigning your attention to the bathroom floor when Jeno slowly blinks at you and reaches to open his backpack.

“Is that a serious question?”

“Whatever.”

He nods, huffing an amused sound under his breath as he grabs a pack of sanitation wipes. “This may sting but I’d rather you not get some infection, especially after scratching at it.”

He proceeds to lightly dab the wound, drawing a hiss between your teeth despite how gentle he’s trying to be. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you bite, leg jerking in his hold. “I won’t pick at it anymore.”

“Sure.” Pink lips purse together, delicately blowing over the area. “I don’t have much, but I’ll cover it up with some gauze when we get home later.”

Home.

Jeno speaks as if you live together, and you may as well at this point. Ripping a bandage open with his teeth, his eyes thin to place the non-sticky white where your flesh appears most harmed. “You’re mine now, I expect you to be more careful than this with your body.”

Squeezing up your calve, his thin digits dig through the meat of your muscle, trapping your bouncing gaze. “Maybe it’s best you move out of that shit hole you live in. That areas not well fit for a young girl to live alone there.”

“I can’t afford to move..”

Jeno’s lips gingerly land atop the bandaid, puckering to press a kiss. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re being weird.” You whisper, turning away from the sight of his pouty mouth continuing to layer kisses over your wound as if to heal you faster.

“It’s okay.” He draws your foot off the counter, taking a hold of your thighs to make space for himself to stand closer between. “It’s okay to accept it.”

Jeno’s eyes appear black as night, empty of any genuine thought or emotion, but even then your chest aches at the flicker of hope when he looks at you. It’s different, nothing you’ve experienced from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re..

“Special.” He whispers, pinching your chin as he leans in closer and his palm smooths over the covered wound. “Does it hurt?”

“..Would you hurt me?” Your lips move faster than you mind can register, asking yourself the question over and over again without realizing you’ve said it outloud. 

Jeno blinks slowly, taking in your nervous expression. Opening up his palm, he moves to cup your chin and keep your face visible as you try to hide away, slowly inching forward to connect your mouth to his.

The bell rings right before your lips can meet, dislodging the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It’s easy to break from your thoughts and push yourself off from the sink, scoot around him fast with the excuse of being late. “My scholarship.” You constantly remind him, receiving nothing more than a roll of his eyes in return.

“Yeah yeah,” he trails after you out of the bathroom, voice low and threatening. “I’m holding you to what you said for later, don’t forget.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Jeno met Haechan the first day of Freshman year of high school.

Excited to show off a new pair of shoes with wheels attached on the soles, he rolled through the hallways to his first class. That’s when he noticed an on-slaught of senior girls running by in their short cheerleading uniforms. Giggling and waving as they jogged by him cackling from behind their hands- ‘hey freshie’.

All too distracted with a goofy smile on his face, he missed the shorter boy wandering ahead of him lost. An unfortunate collision caused their foreheads to bump hard enough for a bruise to show up on both of them by lunch. 

Haechan hissed, crashing flat on his bottom painfully; Jeno quickly apologized and helped him up. Little did he know they’d become great friends from that day forward.

Jeno’s not jealous of Haechan, not necessarily. He admires how giving his friend can be, really. If Jeno ever forgets to grab his packed lunch, Haechan will always offer to share. He’s always sure to invite Jeno over to play games whenever his dad purchases the latest gaming console. He’d even go as far as lending Jeno the shirt off his back if needed.

‘What are friends for if not to have you back in any situation?’ That’s what Haechan would say whenever Jeno felt rendered speechless by his friend's generosity. 

The thing is, Jeno had never had a friend like Haechan. He questions if he can even call his relationships with others friendships anymore.

Unlike Haechan, Jeno had trained himself to not share. Friends had only become burdensome with time. Always asking him to play with his toys, mooching from his delicious snacks, making a big deal over the new pair of sneakers he wore that day.

They liked him because he had nice things, but they didn’t actually care about him. They cared about materialistic bullshit, about his good looks, the designer name brand clothing he’d wear.

Haechan was different from all of them. One day he opened up and shared that he’d felt homesick. Vulnerable at the time after a long tiresome day of introducing himself to groups of snobby fake stuck up people. One even pointed out a manga on his desk saying- ‘I’ve only seen weird loners read that shit’.

‘I had a friend.. back home.’ Haechan had sighed despairingly, head dropped lazily on his bed; drained by the realization that this is his new life. ‘Well.. I wanted her to be more than a friend.’

Jeno watched Haechan over the next few years. His friend changed, reformed his persona to fit in with the standard; he adapted quickly to this new lifestyle. Days of asking Jeno if he’d like some of his lunch dwindled down to nothing; seemingly only irritated that Jeno could be so forgetful of he ever asked for his leftovers.

Things had only become more tense with time. Haechan had grown competitive with everyone. He craved to be the ‘it’ boy around school. It never phased Jeno, not really, he learned to accept the change in his friend. 

Then came the day Haechan decided that Jeno was his competition.

“Jeno, don’t you think this Cartier bracelet would look so cute on my wrist?” Sinclair waved her phone in his face. Wrist waggling out toward him, suggesting with her flirty batting eyelashes that he buy it for her; she had been on his ass for months dropping hints. “Perhaps you could finally ask me out with a gesture such as this?”

“He can’t afford that.” Haechan rolls his eyes letting out a breathy scoff by her side. 

“Of course he can, nothing a swipe of your dad’s Amex can’t cover. He won’t even notice it on the monthly statement.” Sinclair goes on.

“His dad’s broke.” Haechan corrects her abruptly, glancing quickly toward Jeno’s burning glare. “I mean, uh... don’t repeat that.” 

Haechan snatches her phone, waving off that he’d buy it for her when he takes her out come Friday. 

All it took was some stupid girl Jeno could give a fuck about for Haechan to let him down for the last time. It bothered him for months, imagining the various ways he could split his ‘friends’ skull open. 

“I won’t mention it again dude. It was a mistake, alright?” Haechan whispers standing near his locker after Jeno had resorted to the silent treatment for the rest of the week. “Listen, I’m sure she’s already forgotten. I’ll just take her to some overpriced restaurant and tell her I made that up because I was high or whatever.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“Promises are for children Jeno, I forgot alright? I’m allowed to make a mistake.” Haechan showed no remorse. Proving his promises to be empty, backed by no integrity, lacking worth and value. Jeno knew deep down Haechan only continued to befriend him out of guilt, he knew their relationship boiled down to nothing for the other at the end of the day.

He knew he had to do something about it, but he couldn't. He had to wait for the perfect timing. He had to leave Haechan defenseless. He needed to ensure no way for his father to find out of his plan. Leave Haechan with no way to snitch and rat him out, a threat strong enough to hold over his friend's head.

The day you came along everything fell into place. Jeno knew as he watched Haechan’s head lay on your shoulder from behind a bookshelf in the library, you clearly meant something to him. None of it made sense at first. Why would Haechan care about you of all people?

“Remember that girl you mentioned from back home?” Jeno decides to casually bring up the story he’d hardly cared about or paid attention to while gaming. His friend's throat cleared on the opposite end from behind his computer screen. 

“Yeah, what about her?” Haechan says, continuing to mumble curses as he goes on playing.

“Whatever happened to her? Did you two keep in touch at all?” Jeno asks, cursing at the screen to seem casually interested.

“Uhhh,” Haechan swallows, shrugging. “Honestly, don’t know.”

Liar.

Jeno’s teeth grit, holding back a laugh. “That’s too bad, you two were really close, I remember how tore up you were back then when you had first moved. Took you a while to get over it.”

“Man, that was so long ago.” Haechan waves off. “I was a kid.”

Raising a finger to silence their conversation, Haechan pauses the game, picking up his phone after the first ring. “Hey baby, nah I’m just with Jeno, yeah the usual.” Haechan proceeded to ignore him, the old friend he once cherished long gone now.

Just like you.

There are times you want to ask ‘Why me? Why me of all people? Out of all the girls withering away for a mere blink from Jeno in their directions, what the fuck made me matter.’

The unplanned vow of silence you’ve committed to halts those times your tongue itches to lash at him, and you listen, you listen well, very well. It’s to your detriment really, because Jeno adores that you listen, he loves the implication of the power he constricts you with behind your binded lips.

It’s also to his detriment that— for lack of better words, Jeno isn’t the brightest. Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too intelligent, you contemplate as he gushes on about his lost friendship; his favorite topic other than you really.

Haechan.

Jeno’s obsessed with Haechan, at least he’s obsessed with the fact that Haechan won. Between his foul rehashing of times his alleged best friend made him feel futile, it’s easy to decipher why it had to be you.

Not to make Haechan jealous, no. Haechan could give a fuck about you.

Jeno sees the precious memories of his former friend that he lost in you. The glint in his iris sparkles, satisfied by your raptured gaze as he wraps up his story.

“That’s why you’re so perfect.” He says proudly, capturing his bottom lip between index finger and thumb, massaging it while a hum rises up his throat. “Had to be you. You’re the answer I’ve been waiting for.”

The answer. What the fuck does that even mean, you squint, blinking it away fast. Jeno beams, pulling you closer to him with his arm snaking around your waist. “I like when you do that, makes me wonder what’s going on in that brain of yours. Something devious I’m sure.”

Carrying your bag, he hooks an arm over your shoulder, drawing you close as you venture to your next class together. “Hey.”

Maneuvering you around to face him, he stops at the classroom door, grabbing the attention of numerous students as he blocks the entrance making an awkward scene for you. “What are yo—“

“I love you.” Jeno announces loud and clear, receiving a round of gasps and an uproar of whispers. He smiles, cheeks lined with wrinkles, eyebrows raised as he waits.

“Wha—…” breaking off, you peer around quickly, sweat pouring down your back out of fear. Anger and an oncoming storm raging through your gut. “What.”

He lets out a chuckle, sighing as he hugs your back to his chest and proceeds to make way to your seats, further boiling the heat building up your chest. “My sweet sweet Teddy.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You hiss, throwing your shoulder into his chest to continue to your seat under the eyes of the entirety of your class. Rounds of whispers sing around you, the usual confusion you’ve become accustomed to laced between every shared word. 

He sits by your side, arm back around you in no time with a large smile, nodding and peering around the room to affirm that he meant what he just said. 

Every cell in your body wants to explode, throw Jeno down onto the ground and crush his face under your foot. The squeeze around your shoulder curls you in further, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Cold?” He asks, knowing that you aren’t, it’s a mere excuse to wrap himself around you more. His nose nuzzles against your hair, taking a deep inhale with a suffocating possessive hug wrapped tightly you. “Can’t have my Teddy get sick.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

“Teddy.”

It’s shrill, nausea inducing, the way Jeno’s grown fond of this nickname for you.

The way he smiles and peers at you with some sick adoration as he calls you his teddy bear again.

While you feel trapped and disgusted, everyone else seems confused, peeved, and to be gossiping about the two of you.

Haechan’s girlfriend sports an ugly sneer when you walk by wrapped under one of Jeno’s arms; snapping the pencil in her hand into a broken half as he sets a kiss on your forehead, smirking at the round of gasps your schoolmates let out throughout the hallway.

“They’re all so jealous of you.” 

They are jealous of you, watchful eyes speak volumes following your conjoined figures heading toward the parking lot. 

Jeno has successfully transferred into nearly all of your classes, he picks you up and drops you off. Blows up your phone with texts and calls the second you’re apart. He doesn’t ask for updates or proof of what you’re doing, he demands it. Threats fall empty now, you don’t have much to say, he does the talking. 

You listen.

“Our assignments are due next week.” He mutters, pulling away from the school in an opposite direction from where you live.

Our. Mine. His. 

Nothing is yours anymore, Jeno made sure of that.

“I have to be home soon..” 

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh, drumming the steering wheel while sat at a red light. “Last I checked you only have to be with me, your parents only call to check in on you once a week. They don’t have to know your location at all times teddy.”

Oh but he has to know. He knows everything about you, every excuse and lie you can concoct shot down by weeks of evidence collected while studying you from afar. Far enough for you to never catch on, too clueless because of your own insecurities to ever fathom that someone like Jeno could be obsessed with you.

“Besides, today is a special day.” He exclaims, driving into a gated community full of large three story houses resembling suburban mansions.

“How could you forget?” Jeno parks, moving to unbuckle your seatbelt. He sighs, pinching your chin to look at him. “It’s our one month.”

He pouts, bottom lip jutted out while blinking dumb and slow. 

Sometimes you think that Jeno’s cute, and that makes you hate yourself more than anything. All you can do is avert your gaze, pretend he has no affect on you, keep up an act that he’s emptied you of any possible emotion; because he wants to destroy you. He wants you to feel helpless, wants you to rely on him because you have nothing else.

He’s pushing you inside of the house, digging into your knees from behind with his, built arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Suffocating you, that’s what he does, coating you in his scent, sucking out your energy throughout the duration of each day with the metaphoric needles he prickles you with. Every word that drips from his tongue feels like acid poured onto your flesh, burning through the layers to melt you deep inside until the pain goes numb.

His families house is enormous, spread out and fully furnished. Luxurious like some 5 star hotel, which Jeno hasn’t let you forget is only thanks to Haechan’s father for saving their ass. 

‘My dad can’t afford this place anymore. The bank owns our house by now, but he’ll do anything to keep up appearances.’

That’s what he mentioned during lunch one day, ranting about how he can’t stand the way everyone ‘keeps up appearances’ around here; snickering disdainfully toward the table his former best friend sat at.

‘Especially him. Fake asshole.’

Jeno stops you in front of his bedroom door standing by itself in the hallway he’s led you through. 

A dark empty hallway, away from all of the other bedrooms. Ominous and cold.

“You know the way, open the door teddy.” 

Of course you know, it may as well be your bedroom at this point.  

“I have a surprise for you.”

Jeno’s palms cover your eyes when you reach for the door handle, stiffening your spine as his chest knocks against your back to make you step further inside.

Inside of his bedroom it’s dimly lit, a chilled temperature; the air cools down your throat with every breath you take. 

“Do you like it?” He’s smiling against the shell of your ear, whispering softly. Revealing with the drop of his hands a giant plushie sat on his bed against the corner; a human size teddy bear.

He knows you don’t like it, even the question sounds like a dare; a dare for you to say that you don’t like it, that you don’t like any of this.

You especially don’t like Jeno, or the way his palms brush down your arms, shifting to your waist to gather your top up. Bunching at your stomach as he begins to remove it from your body.

“There's more, Teddy.”

Of course there’s more.

The tips of his fingers slowly trail between your breasts, throwing your top off with ease because you don’t struggle. You let him take off your clothes whenever he wants. 

Most times he doesn’t touch you much, but he counts, he memorizes. He traces over indentations from teeth buried into your skin and faded bruises left behind after fucking you roughly. He makes sure there are no others, only Jeno can mark you, only Jeno can see you like this.

He takes time discarding your bottoms, unbuttoning slowly, pushing the material down your hips even slower. Squatting down to his knees to pepper faint kisses on your hips and thighs as more your flesh comes to light; finishing off with a peck on your forehead when he stands and motions toward the plushie.

“Don’t you want the rest of your gift?”

You nod, just barely, taking a step toward the bed. Met with a hand clasped on your shoulder and a ‘nu-uh-uh Teddy’.

Jeno smirks, pushing on your shoulder. “On your knees.”

On your knees like the pet you’ve become. Crawling with your palms flattened onto the bed. Heating up knowing he’s behind you watching your underwear ride up your ass. It’s less humiliating now, he’s made you do worse.

A small black box sits between the teddy bear's legs, adorned with a glittery red bow.

“Open it.”

Hesitantly you pull apart the lid, pursing your mouth shut at the piece of jewelry inside.

A choker, a solid black thin choker you will no doubt have to wear around your neck everyday now. A choker with a teddy bear charm punctured in place through a small metal ring. 

“Ah, I can tell you love it already.” He chuckles, ripping the box from your hold. Shoving your hair away to lean close and lock the clasp around the back of your neck. Grazing the edge of his nose on your jaw and cheek as he does, a silent reminder that you are his, and he will do whatever he pleases with you.

Jeno has a sardonic smirk stretching his lips as he takes you in, fingering the charm dangling just beneath your throat.

“My teddy bear.” 

Tips of cold fingers trace your neck, following the pulse passing through your veins, it’s all just to push your buttons. Jeno wants a reaction, he craves your pitiful stares and miserable moans, he needs your pain to feel something.

You won’t give him that satisfaction, not anymore. 

He sighs, pushing your shoulder to nudge you in the direction of the large plush. “Don’t think I’m letting you off easily for forgetting our special day either.”

God. How could he possibly care enough about you to count down the days you’ve been ‘together’ or whatever he considers this. “Now, show me how much you love your gift.” He says with a wink, tapping your ass and nudging his chin to the teddy bear laid between his pillows.

This has to be some sick kink of his, and it’s impossible to forget what he made you do in that abandoned classroom a month ago..

“Just like last time.” He hums, moving onto the bed with his knees. “I know you remember.”

It’s not necessarily watching you grind against a toy that ripples blood through his veins faster, filling up his cock until it weighs heavy and hot between his thighs; but the saddened broken image before him, with your gaze lowered in shame as you mount the plush and grit your teeth. It’s the shattered feeble look of defeat that fills his chest with warmth more than anything. “That’s it.”

Reaching to smooth up your spine, he pushes at the backs of your shoulders, shifting closer to sit behind you on his knees. “Wanna see you ride it up close.”

He works to guide your hips down onto the bears stomach, pushing hard until your core meets the soft material and you let out a shameful whimper. Biting down on his lip as he slaps your thigh, squeezing up your butt to your waist with instruction to move.

It’s vile, rolling your hips down at his command, growing short of breath as the friction builds up between your legs and his strong hands manipulate your movements. Tears spring past the corners of your eyes the faster he makes you move up and down, grinding your core along the life-size plushie full of humiliation and fear.

“Your ass looks so fucking good.” He groans deeply behind you, rubbing down your back to cup your buttcheeks in a squeeze. Gripping and kneading, parting you open to watch your rim flutter against your panties with each pathetic hump against the teddy bear. “I know I couldn’t be your first time teddy..”

He leans in, chin resting on your shoulder to halt your movements as he dips in past the cleft of your ass to find your hole. “But I’ll be the first to fuck your ass.”

The gasp you try to keep mute still reaches his ears, softly chuckling against you as he adjusts and slides your underwear to one side. “Consider it your gift to me for forgetting our special day.”

Some special fucking day.. 

“You’re so wet already, doubt I’ll even have to prep you.” Jeno whispers, nudging the tip of his thumb against your rim. “Looks really tight, what do you think? Should I be nice and stretch you open first?”

“Please..p-please, I’ve never..”

“Shh shh, don’t worry, I believe you.” He chuckles softly, pressing the blunt tip of his length against your entrance. “With how tight that pussy is, I know you’ve never let anyone inside your ass. It’ll be a special memory only for us..”

Is it special? The tingle building in your stomach seems to agree, relaxing against the plushy to arch your butt out more. It has to be a Pavlovian response by now, conditioned to seek this pleasure Jeno provides you. Even if you hate accepting it. It’s not your fault that your body's natural response is to crave his touch, and spread your legs wider for it.

“I’ll be nice.” There’s amusement in the way he says it, like he doesn’t believe himself either. Slapping the mass of his cock down between the dip in your ass, cursing through clenched teeth. “You may not show it, but your cunt never lies.”

The bulbous tip swipes down, pressing against your clit, pushing your knees to slide open an inch more. It’s all taunting and teasing, running the fat cockhead between your chubbed folds, dipping it into your entrance just to watch you squirm and rut back for more. “Greedy pussy, acting like I don’t fuck you enough.”

He mumbles, smacking the underside of his length between your thighs. The wet clap stinging under the weight of his heavy size beating down on your swollen core. “J-Jeno..”

“Something wrong teddy?” He tuts, hips rolling up, gripping your buttcheeks to sandwich around his length. “You sound.. impatient.”

He gulps, trapping his cock under his thumbs to fuck between your buttcheeks faster. Wet tip prodding out, spilling precum down making the glide even easier. Each thrust passing over your pussy hole and rim makes your thighs tremble, burying your face deeper into the teddy bears neck. “Mmmph..”

“I know it hurts you Teddy..” Jeno’s words rasp against the back of your neck. Bending forward to paint your warm flesh with a coat of moisture. Sweat, raw sex and saliva combine, sticking your skin and his mouth together like hot glue. “Why do you have to be so good at taking it though? Huh?” 

Breath fans your upper back, the drag of his tongue races across your shoulders to bite down a groan on one. Notable effort to make you squirm and scream becomes more prevalent with each smack of his hips against your ass, grunting deeper the more he exerts. “It’s because you like me, right?” He asks between the sound of a struggled laugh, gasping with another slide of his thick length passing between your thighs. “You’re drenching me sweetheart, making a fucking mess of my sheets. You know what I’m gonna have to do later?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, panting heavily as his tongue trails to lick the column of your throat. The glide of his cock between your thighs is disgustingly loud, squishing and splashing in volumized echoes around his bedroom. “Your lack of response is becoming predictable, you know.”

His lower half snaps, protruding hip bones beat against your backside. A  gut crunching sensation curls up your chest, unable to deny the slick gush continuously leaking out of you and coating your ass and thighs the more frantic his motions become. “Can’t wash these sheets again, need to savor it. Remind you of how much you enjoyed it. How you finally gave in and accepted this fate.”

“N-no..”

“What was that?” Jeno asks breathlessly, gripping the base of his girth to position the tip against your rim. “You want more, don’t you?”

He presses in, watching his wet slit disappear past your asshole. “Ahh, no!! S-stop!”

He snickers, angling the tip to stretch your tight ring of muscle. “Relax. It’s going to hurt a lot if you don’t relax.”

“Please..go slow..” you sigh, biting on the plushy when he nudges more. 

“Be calm teddy. You want this?” He drags the sharp edges of his well-filed nails down your ass painfully, surely leaving marks behind. “Want my face shoved in your ass, huh? That’s why you’re whining so much.”

Jeno always has a way of speaking to you during these intimate moments. So cold and uncaring. The icy tone breaking your skin out in goosebumps. Even with your mouth sucking around the teddy bears arm, you whimper, the urge to cry spiking as he removes your panties and lands a sharp strike down on your ass.

“Bent over all pretty for me teddy, you arch that butt out like such a good little slut.” His palm smooths down lower, patting your wet folds to make you listen to how wet you are from this alone. “Who knows, after this I might not even bother with your pussy anymore. Have my own brand new unused hole to fuck now.”

He teases, swiping your clit side to side, dragging the tips of your fingers between your cunt to prod at your entrance. “You’re so wet, I love how fucking wet you get.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips as he twists two fingers inside and buries in knuckle deep, pressing his thumb to your asshole. “Such a perfect slut for me, ready to be my anal whore.” Jeno pulls out and lands a slap down on your rim, hard enough for the sound to clap out around his bedroom. Your hips drop from the sudden impact, biting down a scream into the plushy. “Enough of that, I wanna hear you.”

Wrapping around your waist, he manhandles you easily onto the center of his bed. Laid down on your back softly for him to get a good look at you, for you to finally see him. He’s big, broad, looming over you in the dim light illuminating from the corner of his room. The strokes of yellow paint across his chest and muscle, the darkness pronouncing deep indentations of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. Jeno falls forward, catching himself above you with his biceps bracketing your head, smiling as he leans in to kiss the fresh tears lining your cheeks. 

“As much as I wanna bend you over and fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow.. “ he slows to kiss up from your chin to where droplets have pooled under the hollows of your eyes. Sucking up and kissing the wetness there, enjoying it more than you’d be able to comprehend. “Nothings better than watching your face when I fuck every inch of my cock inside..”

The pure joy glaring back at you from his dark glass irises rains more tears down your face, sniffling and shaking as he licks them clean and squishes your lips out. “Relax sweetheart, it’ll feel good for both of us. Promise.”

Thin digits run down from your jawline, tracing past your neck and over the mounds of your breasts. Jeno adjusts your position to haul one of your thighs up, using his shoulder to keep your knee pressed against the bed. He makes a show of bringing his hand up to his mouth, sucking around three fingers, dragging his sloppy wet tongue between each with laser focused eyes locked on yours. 

“You’re so good for me teddy, gonna let me use that pretty ass..” the way he holds you open exposes both of your holes, hovering past your swollen wet cunt to press two fingers against the clench of your asshole. “Just one baby..”

He presses the tip of one slicked up digit in, breaching the tight little muscle until you whine desperately. “Feels so warm..” Jeno’s eyes flutter, thick black eyelashes still visible in the low light. He sounds throaty, hungry, exasperated and needy. Quietly muttering to himself about how good your tight hole feels as he begins to pull his finger in and out slowly. “Bet your pussy was even tighter than this when you were still a virgin.” 

His voice comes out a lot more harsh, gravelly, guiding another finger in with the next stroke. They scissor through and flutter against your inner walls, tugging lightly at your rim as he dips out to the just the tips. “You’re opening up great for me sweetheart. Do you see how you always listen so good?”

Jeno sits on his knees like a predator catching his prey after a long meticulous hunt. Prodding another tip past your rim alongside the two, the muscles lining his arm rippling, exerting more strength to not push them in all at once. “Tell me teddy, are you desperate enough for me to even let me claim your ass?”

Your throat dries, pursing your lips together to quell the moan that nearly spills out. It’s a new type of full, sneaking peeks at the veins running down his inner forearm leading to the fingers working you open. A wash of shame and heat streaks down your limbs, shivering when Jeno draws his digits free, dangling them above your ass. 

“I know you are.” He lands another slap between your thighs, making your extended leg jerk. Fixing his angle to line the tip of his cock with your rim, the large blunt tip presses down, having to tuck your lips in to not scream. “..but I want to hear you say it.”

The head of his cock nudges in, pulling a gasp from your chest. Jeno bends closer to grab your jaw, shake your head around until you look at him. “Tell me to fuck your ass.”

“I’m—“ your voice sounds unrecognizable, squeaking out brokenly, overpowering the one you’re used to. “I—‘wan—“

Bending in closer, the pull up your hamstring burns, further pushing your leg against the bed. He pushes in another inch, the bulbous tip nearly fully entering, skin stretched taut around him. “You can do it, I know you can do it. Tell me sweetheart.”

“F-fuck—“ you pause, the last bits of your mind slipping away to another dimension. “Fuck m-my ass, please—fuck my a-ass.”

A sick pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips, bumping the tip of his nose to yours. Jeno doesn’t fuck the rest of his length in immediately the way you expect, slowly pushing each inch to savor the snap around his shaft. 

It’s when his hips bump against the backs of your thighs that you finally take in a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Panting out heavily and wide eyed when you can feel the entirety of his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

It’s when Jeno begins to pull out that you bite down to keep in a scream, lifting up on his forearms caged around your head to watch his length draw free. It feels like he’s splitting you in two and he hasn’t even really gotten into it yet. It goes on like that for a minute or two, his head hung, black hair in your face, awestruck by your rim sucking around his dick each time he pulls out to the tip. He gains speed slowly, snapping his hips forward for the first time. Jolting your spine to arch up and finally release a tiny scream you can’t hold in any longer.

“Pussys making such a mess teddy..” Jeno rasps, throwing his head back, pink lips hung open. “Fuck, you’re dripping down to my balls. Love getting fucked up the ass.”

Every thought racing through your mind dissolves, blank and empty as you crane your neck to the side to get a look at what he’s going on about. Embarrassment flushes down your face, unconsciously clamping down on his length plunging in faster. The powerful snap of his hips rocking you deep into his bed, surrounded by Jeno Jeno Jeno. His smell, his touch, his mouth and his meaty girth stretching you open. It’s become something you expect, something you’d feel weird without now, Jeno. 

It burns when he buries in deep, grabbing onto the back of your knee for better control. The stretch feels more and more overwhelming with each pass of his cock manipulating your tight ring of muscle further. Digging his knees steadily into the bed, he picks up the pace and kicks his hips forward to fuck in to the hilt.

“Love fucking your ass. Love fucking you.” Jeno’s eyes clench shut, blinking quickly to open them and shove his forehead against yours. “Love you.”

God it makes your stomach churn, half pulled into a pleasure that feels too good to be true; sickened by how good it feels to be impaled by his fat cock. Half suffocated by the rushing swarm of emotions lassoing your brain, tightening until you feel ready to burst. And Jeno again with the fucking L word, dropping it like nothing, making sure you feel each syllable through his girth splitting you open. 

The push and pull against your clenching rim feels painful, feels good, makes your head spin. He eats it up, licking across your lips, trapping the bottom between his teeth to suck on. Nose dragging down your cheek, lapping the tears, sweat and spit painting your face. It should feel disgusting, you should feel repulsed, but this behaviors become so standard now. Jeno’s like a puppy sometimes, burying his face in your neck, searching for a place to lay new kisses.

Even during these times when he’s on top of you, pushing his cock in deep enough to bruise your cervix, your fingers itch to touch him. He usually does it for you, grabs your wrists and forces your hands to drag down his face, kissing the inside of your palms and wrists.

He seems more intent on kissing you right now, letting ragged breaths fans across your lips between light pecks. “Can you cum like this?” He asks, murmuring against your mouth. 

“I—I d-don’t know..” you really don’t. It’s your first time and the pleasures surging all over in different directions, racing between pain and confusion back to arousal and need. 

“You can.” Jeno whispers, lowering his face to your neck, gaze focused on your connected lower halves. “You’re so wet.”

Fingers trail down your stomach, softly skimming over your clit before easing between your folds. He sinks two inside, thumb rubbing your clit in a simultaneous motion, filling you from both ends. “Ugh! Yeah just like that sweetheart..”

Jeno snaps forward, trying to match the rhythm of his hips to his fingers. He bites down on your jugular, panting heavily against your throat. The burn of the stretch crashes against waves of pleasure, twitching up with each rough rub at your clit.

“I’m—I’m c-cumm—“ the sob you break off into has him moving faster akin to a feral animal. The weight of his bulky frame lands down on you hard enough to make his bed shake, headboard slam against the wall. Each brush of his thumb at your clit feels more sensitive than the last, sending you over the edge, mind blank beyond the grip your ass has around his cock. “Ahh!”

The wetness spilling out past his fingers slides all the way down to your lower back, further solidifying your humiliation. Because he’s right, you are wet just from this, loving your ass stuffed full. Drowning in the sensation of his length ramming in and out.

“Squeeze that fuckhole around me so good teddy, cum cum—“ Jeno chants manically, throwing his hips down rough and fast. Pressing down your clit harshly between viscous flicks, rolling the stiff nub until your toes curl. 

You spill over quickly, writhing under his weight as the pressure of wetness pushes his fingers out of your cunt. The orgasm rolls through you like no other, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve passed off into the afterlife if not for the way he draws back and pounds into your ass.

“You like it?!” Jeno’s expression morphs into one of anger, black eyebrows furrowed together. He grabs your face again, chasing after his release still slamming his cock in deep. “You like getting fucked up the ass?”

The questions pointed, furious. The face of frustration and anger only there to mask how close he is to falling apart, reaching a new high as he charges to the peak. 

“L-love it, yes..” you barely whisper, tear filled eyes blinking the moisture away to watch his features contort and crumble. His pace turns erratic, breath quickening fast enough for his chest to beat up and down. Letting out a deep growl, Jeno comes to a still, mouth hung open letting a chopped up groan roll off his tongue. His cock thrums wildly against your inner walls, flooding your ass with warm white cum you’ve had poured inside of your cunt for weeks.

The little sounds dripping from his lips sounds anguished, whimpering when he thrusts in one more time to ensure his cums evenly painted your insides. “Love you so much..” 

His eyes fall shut, nose dug into your cheek catching his breath. The tips of your fingers tingle again, itching and burning to comb through his soft dark locks, to smooth the sweaty strands off his forehead. It feels like the right thing to do.. maybe with anyone else.

But you want it to feel right with Jeno..

He grumbles, littering kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. “Gonna pull out, okay?”

You don’t respond, not even a nod, only hissing through your teeth as you gape and the now cooled down semen trickles out of your ass disgustingly, really cementing what you’ve just done. What you’ve let him do to you again.

Jeno hums softly, laying by your side without a worry, seeming pleased and full of life judging by the small smile on his face. “Happy anniversary teddy.” He reaches for your hand, scrabbling to entwine your fingers when you try to pull away.

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, shifting closer to your side as you curl into yourself to get further away. “I don’t even have to ask. I’m sure I can throw out a wild guess..”

He lets out a long sigh, huffing a quiet laugh. “You’re not as good at masking your emotions as you may think.. You have to erase those old memories you have of Haechan. He’s not a good guy.” Jeno remarks, nudging his elbow against your side. “He’s a bad person.” 

“You are no better..” You accuse, a bit surprised, whispering with your mouth pressed against his bed. The last person you’re thinking about right now is Haechan(..maybe). Jeno’s smile only grows wider, tickled to hear you talking back finally.

“There’s a difference between me and him.” He says surely, slinging an arm around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses in close to whisper. “He changed to please everyone. I just don’t care anymore.”

“You’re both terrible people..”

Jeno sighs, smile still evident in his tone, leaning closer kissing your ear. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” You mutter, digging your elbow back to push space between you.

“Why would I do that?” Smoothing your arm down, he kisses the end of your jaw, licking your earlobe. “I love you, I know you won’t say it back, but that won’t stop me from letting you know that I love you.” He cozies up against you, yawning. “Get some rest, we have that test to pass tomorrow.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

Jeno has that look on his face again, the one that shifts from raunchy to feral hunger, the one that has him reaching to grab you in less than a second.

“I’m still sore..”

“I barely even touched your pussy.” He says cocking an eyebrow, phone dinging in his pocket over and over again. “Was I too mean teddy?” His palm swipes down the curve of your ass, cupping your buttcheek.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

He groans, smacking your butt lightly before reaching to free his phone.

“Shit, my dad’s blowing up my phone.” He huffs annoyed, swiping through paragraphs of text messages. Most yelling at him in all caps lock for not answering his phone. “He needs me to pick up some files from his home office, says it’s urgent. Something about an accident..”

Frustrated, he hoists his bag and adjusts yours on his other arm, nodding toward the end of the hall. “Come on.”

“Jeno, the test—I can’t!”

He sets you with a look that nearly makes you crumble, ready to succumb and follow his orders. “Please, you know my grades..”

Dragging the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he sighs deep and loud, pinching the skin between his eyebrows together. “Fine.”

What?

He looks irritated, upper lip twitching stretched over his teeth trying to control his anger. “But I’ll try to come back later to pick you up. If you take longer than a minute to reply to me, I swear to fucking God—“

“I won’t!” You almost add a ‘thank you’, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. “I’ll keep my phone within view shot in case of anything..”

Jeno rubs at his temples, shoulders visibly trembling. “Fuck. Whatever. Fine.” 

He stops to take in your elated expression, cupping your cheeks, thumbs caressing your soft skin. “Don’t forget, I love you.”

You won’t say it back, he knows you won’t, but he waits for a minute, a flicker of hope passing behind his gaze. “Good luck on your test, I know you don’t need it teddy.”

He leans in and kisses you, full control on his end. Making a real show of it by shoving his tongue down your throat right in the middle of the hallway where everyone watches and whispers nasty remarks. He wants them to see, he wants certain people to see especially. Public display of affection had never been something you enjoyed, or even experienced before Jeno, but he made it something you had to learn to endure. 

“Be good.” He says quietly, warningly, slipping your bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

You nearly risk being late to class just to watch him leave, having to run to make it on time. The first time you’ve been alone in days, weeks even. Sitting down at your desk with a sense of relief, a crippling weight lifted off your spine. This test would be a breeze without him there to breath down your neck.

It is really crazy how you turn to the empty seat next to you numerous times though, fully expecting to see him there waiting for the next answer. Finishing off your exam without handing it over to Jeno to ensure he copied all of your answers felt odd, peering at your phone over and over again expecting notifications only to have none. 

So. This is life without him. Normal? Not anxiety inducing? Nothing to fear or worry about..

You should know better though, exiting your class blindsided by Haechan leaping in front of you, hooking his arm around yours. “You. In here. NOW.”

“Haechan?! What the hell!” You cough, waving at dust that lifts from the janitor closet floor. Cleaning supplies and clutter surround you, setting in how claustrophobic you feel when he slams the door shut and locks it.

“We need to talk. Right now.”

“About what?!” Pushing him off, you stumble back and glare. Watching his face fall at the sight of your anger.

“About this.” He says, reaching for the charm adorning your neck, flicking the teddy bear. “What’s this bullshit all about? What are you dating Jeno now?? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you.”

“The two of us?! There’s nothing wrong with me?! It’s your fault any of this is even happening to me!” You screech, slapping his hand away. 

“My fault?! You low lives are threatening to ruin my future and it’s somehow MY fault??” Haechan bellows, grabbing your upper arms. 

“Low lives?” 

He scoffs, shaking you with his firm hold. “Don’t change the subject! What the fuck if your problem, huh? Are you making him do this? You two need money that badly?”

Haechan could have just asked about your relationship with Jeno if he really cared. He would have noticed how different you’ve been looking and acting if he really ever cared about you.

“Everything’s about money to you..” you mutter, gaze hanging low. 

“To me?! I’m the one being threatened here!” He says in disbelief, burning holes into your face with a crazed look. “I don’t need any money from you or him.”

No. You don’t need anything, do you? Everything’s about you. You you you you…

Jeno was right all along.

“You seriously think I want your fucking money Haechan?!?” You shout, breaking out of his hold to shove him back. “What about me, asshole?!? Do you even give a shit about me! No, you don’t! Because I embarrass you that much, huh?”

“What are you even going on about.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your wrists before you can pummel him with your fists, teeth gritted. “Of course I give a shit about you, why do you think I’m here?! He’s always hovering around you! It’s impossible to get near you anymore.”

“You’re only here because you think I’m weak.” 

“Weak?” Haechan repeats, tossing your arms down. “He’s really brainwashed you, yeah? Made you believe I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one money hungry enough to destroy years of friendship over some petty jealousy!”

“He hasn’t brainwashed me.” You snap back, nearly adding a lie to make yourself feel better. He doesn’t talk about Haechan that much, and he’s not that jealous..

“Oh yeah? Than what the fuck is this?” His fingers aim for your choker again, sliding the tips under to press along your pulse. “Wearing a collar like a good little bitch?”

“It’s a gift.”

Haechan’s mouth parts in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. “You really like that psychopath, I can’t believe this.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back, wrapping around his wrists. “You have no right to assume anything about me.”

“And me? What about me, huh?” He says soft and low, leaning in closer. “I thought you liked me.”

“You did?” You ask, a bit surprised. You hadn’t made it that obvious, right?

“So, you don’t?” Haechan’s gaze flickers to yours, peering between each of your eyes confused. “Ever since we were kids I thought..”

“Do you like me? Did you ever?”

“Always, I always have.” He says surely, tugging out of your grip. “Not that it matters.”

“W-Why?” You stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. “Because y-you won’t do anything about it? Because I’m nothing but a low life, right?!”

Haechan steps closer, locking you in place against him with his arms tightening around your waist. “You’re not, okay? I’m just mad about Jeno..”

You hate getting angry, because you hate to show how weak you really are, cursing at the first batch of tears that pour from your eyes. You punch at his chest, letting out a tired sob. Tired because of this, everything, tired of holding onto something you never had. “It’s all your fault. He wouldn’t even care about me if it wasn’t for you.”

“What’s my fault?! That your boyfriend’s a certified nut job??”

“This isn’t about him! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah?” Haechan squeezes you in, inching his face closer to yours. “So, you won’t care if I do this.”

The same lips you dreamt about for years come closer, a breath away from finding yours. He pauses to watch your reaction, eyelashes fluttering up and down expecting you to do something to get away. Because Jeno’s girlfriend wouldn’t let another guy kiss her, especially not his new enemy.

It’s nothing like your dreams when he finally goes for it, he’s not soft and nice, he doesn’t move against your mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is rough, fast, sloppy, needy and aggressive. He sees his chance and takes it, sliding his tongue in past your lips as you gasp, lowering his hands to your ass with a fierce squeeze. His dreams had been to strip your innocence, watch your fall apart and scream while he fucked you deep. Nothing like the fairytale stories you’d imagined. Each pass of his tongue against yours indicates his desire, forcing your arms out of his hold to reach for his hair, fisting it and pulling as hard as you can.

“Ahhh! Ahh! Stop!” He whines, lips already swollen. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You sneer, coiling tendrils between your digits, pulling until his neck arches back and a high-pitched squeak breaks free from his mouth.

“I knew it.” He grits, eyes thinning into a glare. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“Is that what this is about?! You just need to have everything Jeno has?!”

“You are the one falling for that freak.” Haechan spits, slapping your ass. “Everyone knows Jeno fucks like a fucking crazed beast, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“I’m not fucking him.” Technicalities..

“Yeah? And why should I believe you?” He plays with the hem of your skirt, tickling at the skin there. “You say that you like me and yet here you are holding back. I think you’re a liar, trying to protect your crazy boyfriend..”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah?” Haechan steps back, leaning against a shelf full of cleaning products. Reaching below his waist to unbuckle his belt. A bulge sits beneath his zipper, slowly lowering it with his eyes on yours. “Get on your knees.”

“What!?”

He snickers, shoving his boxers and jeans down under his balls. “I said get on your knees.”

He has the audacity to wear a cocky grin, tilting his head back onto the shelf as he begins to gently stroke his cock to full mass. You have to look, have to lick your lips at the sight of his length beginning to chub up in his hold. It’s not enough to subside your anger, marching forward to slam his shoulders back against the shelf. “Who do you think you are?!”

“A guy you like.” He says, voice low, staring at your lips. “A guy who likes you.”

This certainly isn’t normal by any means, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the extra skip in your heartbeat. Doesn’t stop your eyes from trailing down Haechan’s face to where he sucks on his bottom lip, letting it go and bounce shiny with spit. “Now.” Reaching for your mouth, he slides a thumb across your lower lip, pushing down on the fatty center. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

There’s a cruel edge to his tone, watching you crumble and slip down onto the floor, eye-level to his length. “Don’t act surprised. This is what you want.”

You don’t know what to say, watching your knees settle on the ground before looking up. He strokes at his size lazily, the tip right between your eyes. Nowhere near as big as Jeno, that’s for sure..

“You’ve always had such a pretty mouth, always used it to talk so much shit.” He smirks confidently, bringing the tip closer to your pouty lips. “What are you waiting for?”

Haechan even smells rich from down here, clean, trimmed pubes, a slight musk wafting off his sack. Jeno’s a little different, he’s always hairless, always smells clean in a soft and inviting way. You think he keeps himself extra tidy to entice you more, but maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is just Haechan..

“D-do you have protection?”

“Huh??” He says, surprised, shrugging and reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, whatever.”

He sounds a little ticked off, flicking the condom at your pressed together thighs. Not putting up an argument either way. It’s been awhile since you’ve had to use one of these, and as you unwrap the package you start to wonder why.. 

Clearing your throat, you nervously reach to grip around the middle of his length. It’s not as heavy in your hold, not as thick, a lot smoother with less prominent veins. The condom rolls down fine, aided by a layer of lube that will surely taste disgusting sliding down your tongue. He’s hissing above you, eyebrows scrunched together focused on your hands and robotic expression, wondering if you’re lying about everything..

“Come on.” Haechan says desperately, reaching to thumb your lip again, a lot messier and more eager. “You want my cock, don’t you?”

Leaning in, you test the feel of it, sliding the tip across your upper lip. Slowly craning your neck up to watch his face fall apart. “Say it. Wanna hear you say it.”

He grips your hair, fingers tingling through your scalp, forcing your neck back further. Plump lips hang open above you, breathily moaning, stuck on his cock dragging your lower lip open. “Say you want my cock like the pathetic fucking slut you are.”

That flicks your eyes open fully, rising from your knees quickly with a tight grasp around his size. “What did you just say to me?!”

Haechan’s jaw hangs limp in shock, letting out a shattered moan when you pull at his length roughly. “Turn the fuck around.”

He listens without even trying to resist, grabbing onto one of the shelfs with your fist still circled around him. “S-sorry.. I thought..”

“Shut the fuck up Haechan.” Grabbing his wrists, you loop them both back and trap them in place against his lower back. Reaching lower with your free hand to smooth over his ass.

“Now, repeat that? What did you just say to me?”

He shakes, turning his face to the side to watch you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing nothing! I take it back!”

“Are you sorry?” You whisper, nipping at his jaw. Fingers skimming between the crevice between his ass.

The vibrations soaring off his body intensify, trembling harder, breathing through his nose gruffly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He chants, breaking off into a whimper.

He doesn’t know what you wish he was sorry for. Delivering a slap to his ass and watching it bounce back against the collision, you hum lowly.

“Come here.” He’s easy to whip around, shivering from head to toe excitedly. Ankles weak to walk on as if he could cum already, making it easy to push him down onto the floor. 

“Fuck, you’re crazy..” he whimpers, laying back and kicking his legs to get his pants off. He looks more pathetic than the first time you ever met him, sobbing under you, crying for you to let him go. 

“It’s your fault.” You mutter, pushing your skirt and underwear off to mount his hips without restraint. “Wish I’d never met you.” You hiss, reaching for his chin to dig your fingers into his cheeks. He blinks up at your blearily, the bright light above you staining his face in a white translucent shade, eyes lost and glossy. He’s pretty, so so so pretty, makes your chest burn and ache. He’s always been pretty, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks slowly with each blink, plump lips shoved out for you to capture. 

“You’re so sexy.” He mutters, struggling under your rough grip. “If I’d known—“

“If you had known what?” You sneer, slapping his cheek hard enough for his head to snap to the side, eyes bewildered and surprised. 

“Fuck you’re..” he spits, bending forward at his neck to watch your core sit down on his length. “Ahh.. shit I’m still!—” He splutters, head dropping back, hips rutting up as you start to slide against his cock. 

It’s easy to take control and feel powerful on top of him like this, shifting back to grab his knees and push them up. “Stay still.” You demand, using force to push the pits of his knees down and hold yourself up. Haechan whimpers from the change in position, feeling small and confined under your figure sitting above him. 

“Fuck I’m—not gonna last long. You’re too much.” He’s such a whiny sniveling mess, drooling down his chin, cock twitching against your cunt.

“You like that?” Hoisting yourself up against his legs, you lift enough to line the tip of his cock up to your entrance, hips trembling as you begin to lower and breach your hole. 

“Ahhh! Fuck!” Haechan screams pretty, high-pitched, unashamed. His head tosses back fully exposing his Adam’s apple, dainty collarbones. He’s nothing now, nothing but a groveling whore begging to be fucked.

“Say it.” You say full of threat, struggling to keep yourself held up, clawing your nails into the sides of his knees. “Beg me to fuck you.”

The softest cracked moan spills from his red juicy mouth, face dropped to the side looking at you with half-lidded drunk eyes. “Please please, please fuck me.”

He’s nothing, and he could easily be yours.

It’s so easy to mount him, to bury the rest of his length inside of you. It’s less of a struggle to take him than you’re used to, filling you to the brim with a wet splash against his pelvis where you land. He whines and moans through it, making you work to ride his cock faster. 

Haechan looks brainless, gorgeous, stupid as fuck with his tongue hung out lavving at the drool pouring from the corners of his lips. Sweaty hands push yours off his knees, holding himself open wider to free your hands. The burn running up your thighs calms as you grab onto his chest and ball his shirt between your fists, short of breath the faster you work to fall into a rhythm. 

“Faster, come on, fuck me faster!” He grunts under you, voice loud and ragged over the thunderous clap of your ass crashing down on him. 

“Shut the fuck up whore.” You bite, reaching to wrap around his neck for better leverage. Pretty brown eyes go wide, gasping for breath as you tighten around his throat until his head shakes and he sounds empty of air. His cock thrums wildly, urging you to slam down harder, rock your hips faster. The veins along his forehead expand the more he struggles to breathe, mouth hung wide open like nothing but a dumb slut. “Only sluts get off f-from being choked.”

He nods weakly, coughing and groaning, sweaty fingers slipping on and off his legs. “Yes yes, ahhh g-gonna cum.”

“If you cum before me I’ll bite your dick off.” You spit out angrily, freeing his neck to clasp his chin and bury your fingers inside of his slutty mouth. “You useless slut.”

Haechan’s eyes roll back, tongue lapping between your digits, balls colliding with your ass with each heavy thrust. “Ah—ahh!” He gurgles and spits, making a mess around your fingers. “Pl-please!”

The hold on his knees slips free, arms flopping down to his sides, legs landing on the ground hard with rapid tremors shooting through. “Shit!” You grunt, stilling as his length pulses and warmth fills the condom, sliding off before any of it can pour out inside of you. “What did I fucking say?!”

Anger and arousal combined feel similar to a slasher film. Murderous and frightening, craving death around the corner as the music changes to warn you as the next kill approaches. Haechan lays under you out of breath, face covered in sweat and saliva, cock pathetically twitching against his stomach. “Selfish.”

Snapping the condom band into place, you settle back down on his length, making him shout out and shake his head. “No no! That hurts!”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Bending in, you reach for his hair, fisting handfuls to pull on and control the speed of your hips. So useless, so stupid and useless, you deserve better than this. Better than someone who can’t even control his own needs to make sure you both finish and reach pleasure. 

Tears brim his eyes as you rock down and roll your cunt against his half-hard soaked cock. The friction of creamy wet rubber rutting against his length more painful than enjoyable at this point, springing droplets down his cheeks. 

“You’re so weak.” He nods, has the nerve to agree with you. Biting down on his plush bottom lip to compress a sob, glossy eyes blinking tears out faster. 

The broken sight of him sends shivers up your spine, jabbing the tip of his cock against your clit in rapid motion until your hole convulses and draws out a much deserved orgasm. 

“Holy shit..” he wheezes out breathlessly, the back of his head hitting the floor painfully as you abruptly release him and move to the side.

Satisfaction courses through your veins, along with something else weighing heavy on your mind..

That was.. interesting. Is that the word you’re looking for? Interesting.

Patting the floor for your skirt, you immediately grab your phone. Jeno hasn’t texted yet. Even more interesting, something really must be wrong with his dad.. you should send him a message first. He might need you right now. Why the hell do you care about what he needs..

“Hey, let’s keep this between us.” Haechan disrupts your inner monologue, patting your shoulder. “Don’t need Jeno seriously spreading those photos around and whatever else he’s blackmailing me with.”

“Does your dad know about your drug use?” You ask, sliding your arm away from his touch.

He frowns, nose wrinkling annoyed. “Why the fuck would he know about that?!”

Because you’re a spoiled brat. Surprised that daddy even cares about his privileged son ruining his future, blowing his father’s hard earned money on more white shit to snort up his nose.

You shrug, buttoning up your shirt. “I guess you have a lot of secrets.” 

Like me. 

You are one of Haechan’s secrets if you think about it.. his secrets stemming from shame it seems. Because he’s ashamed of you, of the part of his life you remind him of.

“Whatever.” He scoffs, standing uncomfortably, nervously scratching his head.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure, picking up your belongings and grabbing the door handle. “There’s nothing your secrets can provide for me. See you later?”

His frown deepens, chewing on his bottom lip and shrugging. “Whatever.”

“Goodbye Haechan.”

You leave first, emotions unsettled and scattered as you walk down the hall to your locker. It’s nearing the end of the day, thankful that Haechan only made you miss gym class. Jeno always takes longer to fuck you, he likes to make sure you always get off, sometimes he doesn’t even finish..

Jeno. Shit.

‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’

Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick you up today, or that he’d try to, whatever. Not even a heads up?! Nothing to warn you??

Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan?! Knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you demanding for you to hurry up.

‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’

Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat.

“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.

‘Why her?’

Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly asking- ‘why me?’

You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile, the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open.

“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”

The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes lower over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck; the collar of your shirt saves you of any fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.

“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the fanned edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”

He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”

Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips. 

“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”

“Wha—“

“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his eyes, mouth tensed as he meets your gaze. “I—I had to.. to participate..”

“In what?”

“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga, for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wear for class only seemed to distract a group of guys in the weight lifting class across the gym. He concocted doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”

Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”

“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after gym class and the air conditioning must have been broken or something in the homeroom.”

“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head. 

You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.

The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.

It’s silent on the way to his home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying to begin with. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters more than you?

Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”

Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glances from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”

A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. “Did you miss me that much today, teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief. 

Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

The gleam passing his gaze is damn near unnerving, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?” 

The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing too out of the ordinary..

Jeno leans over the space between you, turning your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”

He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man, a mouth that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My teddy..”

Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You are starting to like me more than you realize.” 

He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.” 

Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.” 

It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.

There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct your pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth; and the pink flush spread across his mouth stirs a need up from your stomach to your chest.

“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest. 

Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scent and taste alone.

There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.

This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You are the one in control for once and you’re the one applying pressure. Taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours. 

Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rest by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.

“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”

Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You are good, you just..”

He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship with some ridiculous scenario: fixing all the damage with one kiss..

“That’s not it—“

“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod. 

And it’s okay, because you still have hope, somehow you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you from this. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.

But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will die out too.

“It’s not that Jeno..”

“Let’s get inside, I ordered takeout, should be here soon.” He says with an ordering pat pat pat against your hip, unlocking his door for you to exit first. “You hardly touched your lunch today.”

“Is it okay if I take a shower first?” Having to ask makes your stomach churn, mumbling behind the tips of your fingers finding their way back between your teeth to bite down on your nails.

“Stop doing that.” Jeno gently pries your wrists away, opening the door to his bedroom. “You never shower until after we fuck.”

“Like I said.. the air conditioning..”

Jeno eyes you skeptically, huffing and grinning. “You think I’ll care if you smell a little?” He’s back on you, encasing your waist as he bends in to drag his nose along your throat. “I think you smell sweet.”

“It’s not that.. I just feel gross.”

And you do, you feel extremely gross. More disgusted with yourself than you’ve ever felt after allowing Jeno to defile you. The more you try to push away what you’ve just done, the more unsettled you feel by all of it.

“You wanna change?” He places a light kiss upon your cheekbone, moving away to sit at his computer chair. “Grab whatever you want to wear. Don’t take too long though or your food will get cold.”

Part of you wants to stand there and argue, claim that you aren’t hungry despite the rumble your stomach gives at the mention of warm food; but a hot shower to wash away the remnants of Haechan’s spit and other fluids depletes any will to bother Jeno any longer. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, skimming over the drawers lined up against the other side of his bedroom. 

Jeno hums, already logging on to play league and waving you off. “Yeah, wear whatever.”

Showering in his bathroom had become very standard, like he said you typically prefer to after the act, but today’s different of course. His bathroom is much nicer than the community one shared by multiple people at your shitty studio complex. The studio you rarely spend much time living in anymore ever since Jeno forced his way into your life. 

There is something inside of you that sighs out of relief under the shower stream, stretching your arms out and up high freely, enjoying the quality of bath soaps and shower gels he keeps stocked. Jeno always smells nice, fresh and clean, not smokey and suffocating the way Haechan did..

The memory of his luxurious musky scent has your palms traveling lower, reaching for the shower head to thoroughly clean away any possible trace of him left behind between your legs. 

Jeno would go ballistic if he knew.. you aren’t even sure how he’d react, and you don’t want to find out.

“Food’s here?” You ask quietly, still drying your hair by the bathroom door connected to Jeno’s bedroom. He takes a minute to answer, engulfed in the game playing across his computer screen.

“Just got here.” Jeno says, hitting pause to look at you. His lips loosen, jaw opening as he gazes from your feet taking short steps forward to your bare legs and his pink hoodie hanging past your hips. “Wow.”

“What?” You pause, looking yourself over nervously. He said to pick whatever you want to wear, you even double checked with him. He can’t be mad right? Maybe this is his favorite hoodie and now—

Jeno’s eyes soften, scanning up and down your figure as he reaches out and rolls his seat forward to grab your hips. “You look really cute.”

“Oh..” heat drives up your neck, lowering your eyes to look away from the pleased smile that tugs at his lips.

“I should make you wear my clothes more often.” Jeno squeezes up your sides, drawing the fabric to follow his touch and lift over your hips. “Come here.” 

Leaning back, he motions for you to climb onto his lap, a bag of steaming hot food sits at the corner of his desk waiting. “But the food..”

He lifts one groomed eyebrow, responding with a silent command to do as he says before he makes you regret it. 

“We’ll eat first.” Jeno wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging your back to press against his chest as he reaches for the bag. “Put on whatever you want to watch.”

It’s times like this in his bedroom, as you ease into his hold and pout when he swirls noodles around a fork to feed you with that you can’t help but to feel something. 

Something you can’t bring yourself to accept, because that would make him right about everything.. 

That’s what makes it harder to eat, harder to sit still and let yourself grow too comfortable, harder to laugh when something funny happens on the TV show you chose. 

Jeno can’t win, even if he continues to prod your mouth with another spoonful of rice, and softly smiles before licking away a piece from the corner of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” He mumbles, pushing the boxes of food aside. “Turn around.”

“Do we have to?”

Large palms run up your thighs, squeezing as they find a way between your legs to the fleshy meat lined along the outsides of your groin. “You’re cute, but don’t test me.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Jeno’s been extra clingy ever since that day he had to leave earlier. You can’t say you hate it.. and maybe it gives you an excuse for why Haechan’s been completely avoidant, not looking at you once. You wanted to wave at him, say hi as you passed each other, but with thick biceps belted around you at all times you knew better.

He could just be ignoring you because of Jeno.

He could just be ignoring you because he doesn’t give a shit.

“Really do hate that I have to spend the next hour and a half without you.” Jeno sighs sadly, kissing your cheek. “Fucking hate Philosophy too.”

“It’s just one class.”

“One class that’s stealing precious time I could be spending with my girlfriend.”

There he goes again, that bullshit title he keeps using. It’s almost worse than his constant love bombs. “Second bells about to ring.” You mumble, shoving his arms off.

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t wait to get away from me.” He pouts, leaning against the door frame, glancing behind you at the area he knows you often set up at. Eyes squinting as he observes one of your classmates. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Be good.”

Or else.

The silent haunting echo follows you to your seat, apprehensively setting your bag down with a subtle peak toward the door to make sure he’s gone. 

“How’s the research going?”

A deep voice startles you, jumping up and dropping your belongings. “Crap.”

“Ah, that’s my bad.” He crouches down before you’re even squatted halfway, long hands reaching to gather your brushes and pencils. “Was just asking how the papers going. I really think we should get together to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t want you to hate me if we get a bad grade..” 

“Get together?!” You splurt out abruptly, coughing on choked spit. “Outside of class??”

The thing is, Jeno didn’t really know about Jisung Park. Why would he? He’s not in this class.

He didn’t know that part of the reason you loved this class so much wasn’t because he’s not in it. No(although that helps). It’s because from the first day you noticed Jisung sitting quietly free-hand drawing beautifully, you wanted to compliment his sketches, get to know him better; ask if he’s always had an interest in art..

But you didn’t, instead you shyly hid your face and looked away whenever he’d glance around. Sure, maybe you happened to notice how attractive he is too, but that didn’t matter to you. It’s not like you had a crush on him or anything..

And it’s not like your stomach exploded with butterflies as everyone paired off for your final project for the semester, leaving you nervously taking steps back and forth looking for anyone available.

Jisung approached you first, asking quietly and shyly. ‘Do you have a partner yet?’

That’s how you ended up here, your norm for the last week being to sit by him during class so you could exchange ideas and work on your final project together. 

And that crush you didn’t have ended up becoming very very real. Jisung.. he’s nice, really nice. Genuine and thoughtful, he always asks how your days been, if you have any plans later on, tries to get to know you with curious and non-invasive questions.

It’s easy to bond over your love and appreciation for art, and he thought it was cool that you once dreamed of illustrating mangas(until capitalism and reality set in). He sparked light around the dark corners you hide in. Your secret, something only for you, something Jeno couldn’t ruin or touch..

“Yeah. You can come over to my place tonight? My parents both work late hours so we shouldn’t have any interruptions.”

An invite to his place, where you’d be alone. Only the two of you, no Jeno..

“Your place? Tonight?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay with you?” Jisung smiles apprehensively, reaching to scratch at his sideburn. “I’d like to keep my perfect GPA intact.. it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t mind completing the bulk of it myself.”

“No no, that’s not fair.” You wave him off, biting at your nail. “I’ll uhm, yeah—no, yeah, I’m free later. Write down your address.” Sliding him your notebook, you reach for your phone to text Jeno under your desk. This is for school, for your perfect GPA.. he needs to be understanding.

Jisung perks up and scribbles down where you can meet him after school, clapping his hands together. “I’ll set some snacks out for us, I’m sure we’ll be working hours into the evening.”

Hours into the evening.. Jeno won’t like that.

Jeno doesn’t like that. Immediately shooting down your messages with a flat out ‘no’.

It came down to begging, explaining to him on the way to your next class how important this extracurricular course is for your future internship applications, even your counselor said that. It’s not a good look if you only excel in your non-creative courses, unless you plan to apply for a job that requires zero social interaction and teamwork. 

‘Good luck with that.’ Your counselor mumbled, signing you up for this art class in the first place.

“The whole purpose of being here is for you to finish partnered work here.” Jeno snaps, shaking his head. “Who’s your partner anyway?! Why haven’t you mentioned this until now??”

“We only barely received the project yesterday!” You lie, looking at anything else but him. “My partner.. Hani!” Thinking fast you blurt out the first classmate you can think of, praying to yourself that Jeno doesn’t know her.

“Hani?” He repeats, seeming pleased to hear a girl's name. “And what time are you supposed to meet?”

It took further convincing, a little bit of bribery, maybe you skipped Yoga to suck him off in the bathroom. But it worked, Jeno seemed at ease after hearing that your classmate Hani was counting on this project to keep her grades up. Your scholarship requirements too, sure.

“Call me when you’re done.” He says, parking on another street nearby you’d given him directions to, just in case..

“Of course.. it might be late.”

Jeno grumbles, leaning over to kiss you until your lips feel bruised and tender. He kisses like it could be the last time he’ll ever see you, but that never makes you react. He always kisses like that..

“Love you.”

You nod, stepping out and waving him off, letting him know that Hani takes the bus home and you’ll have to wait a few minutes longer. He seems hesitant to drive off at first, only finally taking off out of the street when his dad calls him about something.

Phew.

Panic and fear get shoved down as you make your way to Jisung’s actual address. You shouldn’t be this nervous, it’s just a project..

With your crush, alone, together, only the two of you. That’s why you stand at the front door to his house for a while, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strings of your backpack.

Jeno would be really mad if he found out about this. What would be worse? Lying? Or Jisung? There’s no way he would have allowed for you to come here alone, without him. Lying was your only option..

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorbell, gasping as it flies open immediately.

“You made it!” He smiles, toeing off his shoes, still wearing the same outfit from earlier. “I just got in myself, had to jump the backyard fence because I must have dropped my key, sorry. Were you waiting long?”

“Oh no.. it’s fine.” You mumble, passing through and removing your shoes quietly. He seems even taller now, walking next to him in nothing but socks. 

“You must be hungry, let’s raid the pantry real fast before heading to my room.”

His room, you’ll be alone in his room..

Jisung’s a couple of years younger than you, and it’s evident when you step inside of his bedroom and take in the different toys he has scattered about; moving around to throw his jacket over a pile of stuffed animals displayed in one corner.

“Shall we?” He says, motioning to sit at his desk, dropping the bags of chips and cookies he found. “I’ve already wrapped up the bulk of writing, and cited everything, we just have to go over key points for our presentation.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for doing all of that.” You smile, sensing heat rise up to your cheeks. His parents must not use the air conditioning much..

He snorts breathily, shrugging. “You seem really busy, with your boyfriend and all..”

“He’s not my boyf—he’s,” trailing off, you shake your head and grab your notes. “Let’s focus on this so we can try to finish early.”

“You’re always with him..” Jisung sits up awkwardly, playing with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You’re right, let’s uhm, get to work.

To your surprise Jeno doesn’t blow up your phone with texts, and you think about his dad again. He never did tell you what happened that day.. he should share personal things with you if he expects you to start trusting him. To build some solid type of relationship with him. The skin around your nails practically screams and begs to be left alone as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and begin to bite at anything you can find. He should have texted you by now..

“Something wrong?” Jisung asks, ruffling his fluffy black hair. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“We’ve been working for two hours,” he nods, setting down his pen and organizing what you’ve finished so far. “Let’s take a break, I can really use one too.”

A break? Your eyes widen, following his figure as he stands and stretches his arms up, tight shirt lifting up his stomach halfway giving your curious gaze a real show. “Come on, our brains are probably in overdrive after a day of classes and now this, you should lay down for a bit.”

Lay down?!

Motioning to his bed, he smiles and directs you to follow with his chin. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He says sitting down, patting the empty space next to him.

Oh, but you might. 

Stealing one more glance at your phone, you set it screen down on his desk, getting up and pretending to yawn. “You’re right.. sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”

Jisung laughs lightly, falling back and letting out a long sigh. “Me too, my grades mean a lot to me. I’m trying to get an internship this summer at Lee Corp.”

“No way!” You say excitedly, staying sat up on his bed and leaning on your palm to look at him. ���I am too! Which program are you going for?”

“Engineer of course, they pay the best out of everyone in the country. Did you read that Forbes article? Haechan’s father must be a genius.”

You hum, brushing off the comment about Haechan, he’s the last person you want to talk about right now. “I was thinking about Global Affairs.. I really think a lot of their apps could expand and excel in foreign countries.”

Jisung laughs, smiling up his eyes, clasping his hands together on his stomach. “Look at us trying to relax.. we still end up talking about work.”

“I guess you’re right.. I’m not the best at, uh, relaxing?”

Jisung sits up on his elbows, eyebrows lifted as he looks at you. “I could.. make some suggestions.”

“Uhhh..”

He lets out an awkward laugh, turning onto his side and scratching his neck. “Sorry, that was lame. It’s just uhm, since you said you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve been thinking..”

Shit.

He sucks in his thick pink bottom lip, biting down nervously. “I’ve always thought you were real cute, but you’re always with that guy so I kept my distance.”

“You, y-you did?” You stammer, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “Ah, that’s—that’s nice. I mean, thank you.”

Jisung sits up, long bangs falling into his eyes as he tilts and stares at you in a way you’ve never had anyone look at you. There’s softness in his gaze, exposing his teeth as he leans closer to your face, huffing under his breath. “I’m not good at this, but I’d really like to kiss you right now..”

Kiss?!? 

“Is that okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, dipping in closer until your noses are less than an inch apart.

No. It’s not okay. You shouldn’t even be here right now. But isn’t it okay? Aren’t you in this relationship with Jeno against your will? Hasn’t Haechan been ignoring you for days? This could be your only chance at something normal.. someone who actually likes you for you.

Jisung’s heart looks damn near ready to break judging by the way his pout begins to droop, it’s instinct to rectify what you’ve caused that has you pressing forward; the first to brush your lips together. He lets a staggered breath free, moving to cup around your throat to deepen the kiss. It’s soft, nice, slow enough that you can process and absorb every small caress of your lips against his. 

“I really..” he sighs out a laugh, tapping the end of his nose to yours. “Could help you relax..”

You deserve this, right? Why even question it? You like him, he likes you, and a part of you fully expected(or wanted) this to happen.

“Okay..” 

Maybe the soft innocence radiating off of him is moreso the difference in your age. But there’s something about the way Jisung gently lays you down and places a pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again, and again, and again, slowly working your mouth open to allow his tongue to roam freely and explore. 

It’s nice and calm without overstimulating your arousal, not until his fingers trace along your throat, pulling back with a smile that asks for permission.

Assuming he expects more you squirm anxiously, helping him slide his hand lower down your stomach to the button of your jeans. “Can I?” He asks, again, always checking in to confirm you’re okay with his next move.

You help him by shimmying out of your jeans, allowing for his hand to dip inside of your underwear as you continue to kiss and arch up at the first graze of long thick fingers swiping between your folds. His hands are warm, movements fluid and practiced, collecting the wad of wetness at your entrance to rub over your clit and begin stimulating your nerves. You can’t help to think- this is how it’s supposed to be, getting to know your body first with soft strokes, feeling the different parts of you to learn what gets you off.

“Wanna eat you out.” Jisung whispers against your mouth, trailing two digits lower to press against your hole. “Wanna taste.”

You nod eagerly, much too eagerly, kicking your jeans off to the floor, lifting your hips to invite him inside. He rubs circles around your entrance teasingly, tapping a few times before pulling out to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt. 

Jisung may be younger, but his body’s built nothing short of a man. Muscles line his stomach, arms firm and flexed as he pushes off his pants and climbs back onto the bed in nothing but a snuggly fit pair of boxer briefs. He pushes your top up under your breasts, hands large enough to hide the base of your stomach when they lay flat on top of you and begin to slide down to your underwear. “Like your panties..” he whispers, leaning down to trace the rose on your mound, making your hips twitch.

He likes them enough to not even take them off, laying down on his stomach to drag his nose down the damp seat of your panties. God Jeno would never— stop thinking about him. Stop saying what he’d do, he doesn’t exist. Jisung’s the one between your thighs, collecting your underwear to one side and taking a deep breath. “You’re just as pretty down here..” 

His deep voice makes your toes curl against the bed, bending your knees up to grant him more access. “Can I touch?”

Nodding eagerly, you lift your hips again for him to push your folds apart, groaning as his thumb presses to your clit. “Like it when I do that?”

“Yes.. use your mouth..”

Jisung groans, half whimpering, tucking his face lower between your thighs. Thick lips suction around your clit, sucking the nub between and flicking his tongue out. His slow polite manners dissipate the more he ruts against his bed and sucks around your bundle of nerves. “Taste as good as you look.” He murmurs, long tongue dragging down to your tight hole to lap inside. 

“You’re getting real wet.” He breathes out, cursing. Ducking back down to lick a fat stripe from your contracting wet hole to your clit. His tongue laves between your folds, spilling saliva and wetness across each, dipping his tongue in and out. He suckles on your clit, big hands splayed on your inner thighs pushing them further open to jam his tongue deeper inside.

You need more, fingers twitch midair before reaching into his hair and scratching at his scalp. “More!”

Jisung growls, shoving his face in until his nose digs against your bundle of nerves, panting against your opening with his tongue flicking against your inner walls.

He pulls back to glide two fingers inside, taking the chance to tug firmly on his scalp and shake your head. “Do y-you have a condom?”

Surprise paints his delicate face, appearing obscene with your arousal hanging from his chin. He nods quickly and jumps from the bed to slam open his bedside drawer and pull out a wad of protection. “I have a ton!” He scurries back onto the bed and grabs onto your knees, wide-eyed and dazed. “I mean.. do you want to?”

“Mhm..” you nod, sitting up to kiss up his neck, ripping the packet open and shoving your hand inside of his briefs.

You wish he would shut up just a little, favoring the breathy whines and whimpered moans he lets out when you finally wrap around his length and slide down the condom. 

Jisung kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip until it swells, licking across the fronts of your teeth. He lowers you back down comfortably and shoves his boxers down, length jumping up and slapping against his stomach. 

“Y-you’re not like..” Jisung stutters, laughing to himself as he positions to line his cock up to your cunt. “Like a virgin?”

This is why you wish he’d shut up, gritting your teeth before forcing a smile. “Of course not.”

“Ah, figured.. wanted to be sure.” He takes a deep breath and cups your hips, inching forward slowly. “If it hurts—“

“I’ll let you know.”

It stings a little once he’s sheathed in half deep, he’s big, most of all thick. But the pain feels familiar, something you crave now.. 

“Come on.” You encourage, lifting your hips to fuck the rest of his length inside. “Fuck me, come on.” 

Jisung gasps, long and choked, falling forward and catching himself by grabbing onto your shoulders. He watches your hips cant up for a minute, literally riding his cock, pussy slapping against his pelvis.

“Fuck, oh my God..” he croons, sounding out of breath already. 

“Fuck me!” You beg, clinging onto his waist to scratch your nails down his flat tight stomach. “Please please, fuck me.”

Jisung snaps, nodding furiously as he crawls forward on his knees and hooks your thighs over his hips, throwing his hips into action to ram inside of you faster.

“Yeah yeah, just like that!” You whine, fucking him back to make him match your speed. 

His hands reach for your waist, slamming in harder until you’re gurgling and writhing in his hold. Cock sliding in and out so wet and deep, the pain completely gone, only receiving pleasure with each meet of your hips. 

It’s still missing something, something that has you reaching between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers. Nodding and panting for him to keep going. “S-so close.”

His palms land flat around the sides of your head, gripping the bedding in tight fists, using the leverage to drop his hips down faster. Fuck his cock in deeper and harder.

The sight of him above you, pale, muscular, black hair in his face, it’s enough to drift your mind away somewhere else. Shutting your eyes as heat burns up from your gut to your chest. Clit gone numb from your ferocious rubs, you twitch and cry out. The squeeze slowing him down as you clamp around him and begin to cum.

“Yesyesyes!” Through your blurry vision you can see him crumbling on top of you. Forcing his cock in past your tight heat, if not for how pitchy his moans sing out you’d swear..

“Ah, I’m c-cumming! I’m cu-cumming!” Jisung’s face tightens up, kissing the backs of his teeth. Hips locked in place, cock twitching as he fills up the condom with warmth. He pants and hangs his head between his shoulders, hips circling on more time before pulling out slowly. An audible pop resounds once he’s emptied you, flopping onto the bed by your side, stripping the condom off to give his dick a break for a moment, he throws it aside and lays back catching his breath. “No better way to relax than that..”

You wish you could say the same, already seeking your nails to chew on. That couldn’t have been too long, right? You need to check your phone, Jeno could have surely hunted you down by now if you’d even taken longer than a minute to respond. Maybe he’s really trying to respect your boundaries for once. Either way, you need to get out of here.

Tip toeing on to his bedroom floor, you step back into your clothes, quietly gathering your things to not wake him. Waking him could lead to conversation and more time you’d have to spend here..

There’s something you can only describe as guilt infiltrating your mostly pleased thoughts. Sneaking out of Jisung’s house was easy, scribbling off a note quickly that you’d see him at school later.

Jeno could be waiting outside where he dropped you off, you told him not to.. but he worries about you a lot. He’s always worried about you, it’s nice actually. It’s nice how much he cares about you, hell.. he checks in on you more than even your own parents. 

God. What the hell are you thinking? Who cares if he worries about you. He’s a fucking psycho is what he is. Why are you even thinking about him right now? After everything that’s happened.

Jisung’s really nice, he’s really smart, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Yet Jeno.. Jeno feels like an infection you can’t find the cure for at this point. He’s everywhere, every time you shut your eyes, whenever you wake up, he’s the first person you think about, the first person you want to see.

This is ridiculous, you’re just tired, that’s it. Too tired to wait for Jeno to come get you. It’ll be best to take the bus back to your studio today, he’d probably make you go home with him and keep you up way too late. His bed may be nicer than yours, sure. His bathroom an actual personal bathroom, and as your ‘boyfriend’ he always makes sure you’re well fed. The grumble your stomach lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, ignoring it as you pick up your phone to shoot off a text message.

‘Really tired. Heading home. See you in the morning.’

Reading over your text before sending it, you chew at dry skin around your nails, dropping your hand quickly as if Jeno’s slapped it down again. He always does, reprimands you whenever you bite your nails or rip the dead skin off with your teeth. He does it because he cares about you, right? 

Fuck him. Seriously fuck that asshole.

Pressing your thumb down earnestly, you send the text and shut your phone off, bringing your thumb up to your lip to rip off an annoying piece of skin.

“Shit.” You hiss, shaking off your hand. More came off, opening a wound and stinging around the cuticle. Shining with red blood that rushed to fill up the divots around your nail bed.

Jeno would probably glare at you, raise your thumb to his mouth to suck on. He’d make it hurt less..

Brushing those thoughts aside, you pocket your fingers and tighten your jacket, making your way toward the nearest bus stop. He won’t like that you turned off your phone, he won’t like that you took public transport home instead of waiting for him, he doesn’t like anything really.

Except you..

It’s been a long while since you’ve taken the bus home, and it’s late, mostly empty. It’s hard to not notice a couple curled up in one of the two seaters, laughing at something on a phone together. Sometimes you watch things with Jeno, and you try to keep your amusement at bay, you try to emit nothing other than misery, but it’s become something you secretly look forward to these days..

Why do you keep thinking about him? What if Jisung’s texting you? Glancing at your blacked out phone screen, you wonder if he is, he could be.. Jisung seems to like you. He seems normal.. 

Normal could be nice. 

Normal.

Why can’t you and Jeno be normal? What if you are?

Coming home alone without him by your side seems odd now. This isn’t normal anymore, this isn’t your normal anymore.

Jeno is your normal. 

As you crawl into bed and take a deep sigh, you can’t help but to wrap yourself up tighter, curl up into a more fettle helpless position, and you can’t stop the tears that erupt from your eyes until they blur your vision and make your head pound. 

He should be here, he should be here to keep you safe and warm, but he’s not, and nothing feels normal anymore. ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

One thing about Jeno you’ve noticed is that he is always on time. He’s extremely punctual, and if he’s not, he always, without fail, will make sure to alert you with a call or text. 

Today’s different. 

Because even when you turned your phone on this morning and rubbed sleepy dry tears from your swollen eyes, no notifications from Jeno appeared.

Jisung had sent a few messages, thanking you for a great time and hoping you made it home safe. The last text you sent Jeno hadn’t even been opened, and his read receipts have always been turned on for as long as you’ve known him..

He’ll show up outside of your complex at 8 o’clock on the dot as usual. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone(that’s unlike him). 

But 8am comes around, and his car doesn’t round the corner, and minutes tick by, and he doesn’t show up. Each glance at your phone screen feels more like a plea for something, silently begging for a text or call to appear. Something to indicate he’s on his way, maybe traffic is heavier than usual today..

‘Hey. I’m waiting outside.’

You never add emojis. Keep messages as short and simple as you can. It would come across as too nice, too weird given the dynamic of your relationship, but that doesn’t stop your thumb from hovering over a smiley face before hitting send. Shaking it off, you watch the minutes go by, nursing the cut up cuticle you ripped off last night between your lips. If you don’t leave soon to catch the bus you’ll be late.

One more minute, you’ll wait one more minute before running to catch the next bus. 

‘Is everything okay?’

What if he got into an accident? Did Jeno even make it home yesterday after dropping you off? What if he’s in a hospital bed somewhere, disfigured, all alone without anyone to keep him company? What are you even thinking right now?!

It doesn’t calm your nerves a bit that he hasn’t opened a single text message you’ve sent. Doesn’t help as you cram onto a crowded bus and worry your thumb down to raw skin, biting every little piece you can get your teeth on. Doesn’t help that you can’t stop glancing at your phone, envisioning each terrible outcome.

He’ll be at school, he’ll be waiting at your lockers and walk you to class, sit by your side as usual. Throw out an assload of compliments that piss you off, stare at you and play with your hair. It’s fine, everything is fine, he’s a good driver. How could he possibly get into an accident? Jeno? Never.

But he’s not waiting at your lockers, even as you stand around longer peering up and down the hallway for him to show up. You can’t ask anyone if they’ve seen him either, it’s not like you know anyone to ask.

He’s not in your first class, doesn’t show up for second period, or third, and your phone never once dings with a new notification.

Even as your names are called out to grab attendance and you silently pray he’ll appear at the classroom door out of breath, finding your surprised gaze on him. A huge smile will stretch his cheeks into a bundle of wrinkles, eyes disappearing when he meets yours.

But that doesn’t happen, and in a panic you send off a slew of text messages, biting your nails down to nothing but raw skin.

‘Is everything okay Jeno? Did your phone die?’

‘I’m at school. Should I meet you for lunch somewhere?’

‘Are you sick?’

There’s no way to explain the fear clawing at your chest, the rumble in your stomach, the ache that pangs through your heart. It’s not because you care about him, he doesn’t deserve that from you, not even out of human decency. But maybe, just maybe, you are worried, because Jeno’s face has become such a normal part of your daily life. His light touches, a gaze that never loses sight of you, a powerful aura that wraps you up behind an invisible shield that makes you feel safe. As insane as it feels to even contemplate, you can’t help it.

He’s a disease, streaming through your blood, destroying all of your white blood cells and leaving you with no option other than to rely on him to survive. Some may even consider that love, if you think about it.

He sought you out in the first place, didn’t he? Took notice of something special in you that clearly no one else does. Like right now as you walk to your locker, head hung low, no one cares. No one’s looking at you, no one notices you or sees you. They always see you when Jeno’s by your side. He’s the bright light that illuminates around you, and you? You’re nothing. 

Jeno made you something though. He made you his.

How hasn’t he replied yet?!? What the hell is his problem! You’d scream if you could, that’s how desperate you feel, not even a god damn text? Nothing?!

You could always leave.. take the bus to his house. It’s possible he is severely injured after all, his parents might not even have a clue. It’s the least you can do, at least inform them that their son’s on his deathbed because of a horrific accident. Because that’s the only logical explanation you can fathom for why he hasn’t attempted to contact you even once since yesterday. It’s your fault too, if he really got into a bad car wreck after dropping you off. Yeah, you should definitely take the rest of the day off, it’s the right thing to do..

Adding speed to your steps, you rush toward your locker to grab your bag, prying it open quickly and nearly missing the folded note that slips out. A note.. with very familiar handwriting. A note in your locker after all this time, exactly like the ones you used to receive..

‘It’s been awhile hasn’t it angel? I haven’t felt the need to speak to you like this in such a long time now it seems. We have grown so close now, there are times I catch your gaze wandering away from me. I realize in those moments how much I’ve truly given up for you.

I lost my friends, carry guilt on my back of getting caught; that Haechan will find the courage to snitch me out.. The chance of my father disowning me for ruining his one chance to free himself from this impoverishment. In those moments I know you look away silently praying for someone to save you, when really, it’s been me all along.

I’ve only ever wanted to save you because you deserve better than this. I’m waiting for you, I know you’re smart enough to find your way.

-Your Teddy Bear’

This has to be a sick joke, you fully believe this has to be a sick joke; but your lip twitches, your tongue presses to the fronts of your teeth, and you can feel moisture itching at the backs of your eyes.

Jeno hadn’t picked you up today, he never sent a message to explain why. The last he’d spoken with you was on the car ride over to Jisung’s, and even then you never said much. He hadn’t said much either if you really think back, stay silent for most of the drive.

The last place you want to revisit is room 0423 after that day.

‘I’m waiting for you.’ 

Stoic and zombie-like your feet drag through the halls finding your way to the abandoned sector of the school. Because he’s waiting, and like a fool you’ve been waiting for him too.  

You couldn’t process a thought, mindless as you found your way in front of the door that read 0423 before you. At this point there isn’t much else Jeno can pull to surprise you. Probably planning a setup of some sort to commemorate the day he met you, since it matters to him so much.

“Don’t act shy and stand out there forever, I’m waiting.” His voice echoes through the small opening, leaving the door cracked enough for you to know to come inside.

Everything appears to be the same as you remember, other than the giant teddy bear Jeno gifted you sitting at the teacher's table, his back facing you from where he sits on one of the student desks at the front row. 

“Took you long enough to show up. I expected you’d be sick to your stomach without me, buried with your face in a porcelain bowl. Although, I must say, your messages have been quite entertaining.” Jeno begins to speak, his back muscles flexing as he laughs sarcastically. His neck bends forward, nodding to himself. “I won’t lie, I didn’t expect even that much from you. I dare say, you seemed frantic, worried even..”

“Why did you want me to come back here?” You ask softly, inching closer to where he sits. Jeno listens to the sound of your sneakers drag against the linoleum floor, he listens to your calm breath, he listens to your nails scratch by on each desk you pass, and he smiles stiffly.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Jeno’s teeth grit, fisting a remote control in his grip. He stands up abruptly in a way that startles you. Instinctively lifting your fists to cover your face as you gasp. Rolling his eyes, he grips onto a curtain near the corner covering up an old school television, and he turns to face you. 

If looks could kill, you know that you’d be laid out on the floor bleeding out right now. He bores into you with a laser sharp gaze, slicing through your chest with a level of intensity he’s kept calm for weeks. 

“Answer me.”

Jeno’s throat shakes, his knuckles saturated in white, cuts of blood red and hues of pink from punching who knows what or who.. and for a quick second you think he may cry as he rapidly blinks away moisture that’s teetering at the brims of his eyes.

“No Jeno.. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I’ve never liked when you lie.” He nods, sniffling loud and hitting play. “You always look dead behind the eyes when you lie, did you know that? Because even you know that deep down inside no matter how much you hate me, lying isn’t your style.”

The black tv screen illuminates, a dim video of sheets that make your eyes squint, familiar..

“Is that—“ the camera zooms out before you can even speculate, cutting off your breath. “N-no—there’s no wa—“

Jeno sneers, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes and nose. He turns the volume up until your pleasured moans resound throughout the classroom, cascading down the walls and your frame like lashings. The camera doesn’t bother to focus on Jisung once, zoomed in on your face, your mouth hung open, the lines formed between your eyebrows.

“H-how..” bile rises up your throat, stepping back until your butt meets the ledge of a desk. There’s no way Jeno could have known, how HOW could he—

“I know what you’re thinking.” He says smoothly, the tears dried up and gone. Spinning on one foot to face you and waved the remote in your direction. “You thought he really liked you, right?”

“N-no it’s n-not that—“

“What did I tell you about lying?” He grite, placating you with a cold hard stare. “I could have saved us the trouble of dealing with any of this. I knew from the second I saw you talking to him in class, I knew from that moment. You looked so happy.” He scoffs, head shaking, pausing the video. “You looked so fucking happy and hopeful, the same way you looked when I saw you talking to Haechan in the library before.”

He takes a deep dramatic breath, tossing the remote aside, arms free to cross over his chest and lock you in place with one of the most fear-inducing looks you’ve ever seen. “You never look at me like that. You never even tell me that you love me, and you pretend..” Jeno shifts back, turning his body away from you. “You pretend to hate me.”

Everything inside of you screams to say something, to tell him that he’s wrong, that you do hate him. But there’s that pain in your chest again, the one that feels worse than any pain you’ve ever felt, worse than when Haechan moved away and slowly forgot about you. Worse than when he ignored you after you had sex..

It’s a pain that only Jeno can pull out of you. It’s denial, hate, love, anger, fear, obsession, worry, and right now, that pain fills you with terror. He knows, and more than worrying about what he’ll do to you, you can’t stop the tears from flowing out at the thought of losing him. 

“I-I’m sorr—“

“Stop.” He snaps quickly, fully turning away and motioning to the classroom stock closet. “You can come out now.”

Through your bleary vision, you see him come out, big smile, broad and tall. Cocky as he clasp hands with Jeno and shoots you a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll send me a copy too, right?” 

“Get the fuck out.” Jeno jeers, crashing his shoulder into Jisung’s side. “Good job though, the money should be in your account.”

“Yeah of course man, anytime.” He smirks before turning to face you, winking as he makes way to pass by you. “And you, I really did have a good time last night.” He leans it quickly to whisper. “If this weird shit you have going on doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

“Please…please!” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed and overheated the longer you have to listen to yourself get fucked through all of this. Every bit of confusion struggles to clear as your mind rages and grows heavy, painfully beating through your skull. “Turn it off! Please!”

Jeno snickers, ripping the TV’s power cord out. “Not that you deserve peace of mind right now.” He mumbles, petting the teddy bear he gifted you on your anniversary. “What were you thinking?”

“I..” 

What were you thinking??? Obviously you were thinking that your classmate who you’ve secretly had a small liking for may have a small liking for you in return. There’s nothing else to say, you fell right into Jenoms trap, you always will..

“Don’t answer that.” He says, turning toward you with an unrelenting penetrating gaze. “I know what you were thinking. I always know what you’re thinking.”

He steps closer, trapping you against the desk holding your weight up. Weakness takes over your ankles and knees, dropping head head to hang, too ashamed to even look at him. More embarrassed than ashamed.. why should you feel ashamed?

“You thought a guy like that could seriously like you? What’s it going to take for you to learn this lesson?” Jeno continues, voice cutting deep and sharp. “No one here will ever like you except me. Jisung may pity fuck you out of boredom, but he’d never bring a girl like you home. He’d never take you serious, he’ll never give a real fuck about you.”

“T-this whole time..” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “You k-knew this whole time.”

“Pft.” He bends in to meet you eye level, still standing straight to loom over your slouched frame. “I’m always watching you.”

Jeno’s tongue clicks, whistling lowly, taking a step back to snap his fingers in a sarcastic manner. “You know who else could give a shit about you? Haechan.” He nods, finding your red wet eyes. “Haechan who hasn’t acknowledged your existence ever since that day.”

“N-no..” tremors vibrate up your throat, gripping onto the desk beneath you to keep yourself up. “There’s no way..”

“I had a sliver of hope, you know?” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. “I thought maybe you finally understood that Haechan could give a fuck about whatever it is you used to have. That stupid childhood friendship you cherish and hold onto still.” He pauses to look at you, blinking glassy eyes away. “I can’t trust you, even after all that I do to prove to you that you belong with me.”

“This—this isn’t—“

“Haechan—he’ll never love you, he’ll never see you as anything more than some poor loser from his past.” He interrupts, hissing between his teeth. “Jisung, even fatter chance. I’ve explained this to you so many times now. When will you get it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” You screech, louder than you even thought possible. Tears rush towards your chin, digging your nails into the cheap old desk wood. “Why me?!?”

Jeno scoops your face, thumbing your wet cheeks softly, almost gently. His own eyes shake, pouring out from the corners. “Because.” He breathes in deep through his nose, wet voice coming out shattered. “I love you.”  

I love you I love you I love you. Those three words repeat over and over again, a face full of anger turning into one you can hardly recognize anymore, fingers dug into your cheeks as if he can somehow force you to believe him this way. It hurts to watch more than anything, as Jeno crumbles and falls to his knees, arms wrapped tight around your hips screaming manically that he loves you.

He. Loves. You.

Haechan doesn’t love you, and a guy like Jisung could never love you..

He’s right. Jeno’s right. He’s been right from the very beginning. You could have listened, avoided all of this? The normalcy you wished to have with him, whatever that could have been.. if it ever could have been.

“Why won’t you love me?!” He sounds broken, distraught, hopeless. The hug around your lower half burns, feels like you’ll never be free, you’ll never get away from him.

You don’t want to get away from him anymore.

“I love you, Jeno..” you can hear your voice empty of life as it exits your lips. The image before you too blurry to even make out past your tear-filled gaze. “I love you.”

The grip on your hips loosens, tears calming to a round of sniffles, he stops shaking and slowly lifts his face to look at you. “Say that again.”

Cold, emotionless, demanding. That’s the tone you’re used to..

“I love you.”

Jeno stands back up, quickly cleaning his eyes off with the heel of his palms. A large smile altering the anger and sadness he just displayed seconds ago. “My Teddy.”

He rambles, words slurred together as you fail to process anything that’s just happened. Could this have ever been normal? Or is this simply who Jeno is? He’s obsessive, crazed, dominant and deranged. 

“I know you love me.” He sighs happily, tugging you in close and rubbing along your spine. “I knew when you made Jisung put on a condom.”

The way spit clogs up your throat at that makes you choke on your next breath, Jeno’s laugh rumbling against your chest as he pats your back to help you. “I thought so after you made Haechan use one, but this really confirmed it. You wanted to hurt me, wanted to make me jealous..” his voice lowers, shifting to whisper in your ear. “But deep down inside you know I’m the only one you want to fuck you full of cum.”

There’s no point in questioning anything, you know he hates when you do that. You know that he has ways to find out things that you can’t begin to understand. “I know baby, that’s why I had to replace your prescription too. Those mints you always popped in your mouth after eating lunch. It’s cute how you play these little mind games with me..”

Mints?! The birth control you started taking after.. that first time. You knew he was evil, mentally deranged, but fucking your with medication?! 

“M-my mints??” You ask in disbelief, having to bite down on the backs of your teeth to stop your jaw from hanging.

Jeno waves a finger at you, tapping your nose. “I don’t believe in that birth control shit.”

And there it is, the same Jeno you became familiar with in this very room. The same one that turns your dreams into nightmares, that makes you look over your shoulder constantly, the one that’s imprisoned you in this inescapable hell. 

“It’s cute how you still think you can out-smart me.” He says sternly, pinching your chin. “But nothing about your constant lying is cute.”

He leans in close, eyes wide open taking in your despair, licking up the tears that seem endless. Everything, all of this, you were never going to win. Winning was never an option.

“You’re so special to me.” Sucking at the droplets dangling from your chin, he nips up your jaw to swallow your earlobe. “So special and real, remind me so much of him. Who he used to be.”

Because that’s really what this all boils down to. You never willingly fell for Jeno’s charms the way everyone else does, he had to force this, and even then you didn’t give. You held on to the last bits of yourself that remained raw and real, you chose to love and accept who you are even when he diminished your worth. And that drove him crazy, tickled him in places he forgot existed, reignited those memories of who his best friend once was.

“I love you.” Jeno repeats, whispering just for you, not that anyone could even hear your screams here from room 0423. No one heard you the last time, no one helped, no one cares.

“I love you too.” The tears that pour down from your upper lip could come across as tears of joy. From an outsider's point of view this could look like the happiest moment of your life. Sharing confessions of love with your boyfriend, a handsome young man who can only be described as obsessed with you, but they aren’t happy tears; and as Jeno grins, squatting down to scoop you up, you have to swallow the rancid bile rising up your throat. Laid back down on the same desk he first had his way with you on, the same place he made you shut up and take it.

It’s crazy and out of body when Jeno’s palms drag down your sides, unbutton your top and reaches under your back to unhook your bra. He’s done it many times, it’s muscle memory at this point removing your clothes. Each small drag of his fingertips feel more chilling, crashing waves of shock throughout your system. Even as he strips you nude and licks down your inner thighs you lay there stoic, gaze unwavering from where he stands between your legs taking time to stroke over your figure.

“What’re you thinking about teddy?” He coos, kissing along the tender skin lining your inner thigh. “You look like a lot is going on inside that pretty head..”

What are you thinking? You’re not thinking much of anything. Unable to process a singular thought as you watch him bend in and kiss down the center of your sternum, trailing down to your navel. There’s nothing else you can say right now, nothing else you want to say as tears collect and spill over, running down to your ears. 

“I missed you, I missed you so much.”

Jeno slowly cranes his head up to find your tear-filled gaze, he slowly reaches to cup your face, slowly smiles. It all seems too slow in comparison to the breakdown you’re having. Shaking down to the tips of your fingers and toes, body wracked with sobs as he sits you up and thumbs at your wet cheeks.

“Did you sweetheart? You missed me?” 

“Y-yes!” You cry out watery, throwing your arms around his waist to pull him in close between your thighs. “You left me, you didn’t come. You always pick me up, you’re always there.”

Jeno falls silent, basking in your misery, savoring the wash of success that rains down on him. He’s broken you, dropped each piece of the puzzle only to reassemble it the way he wants. Broken, fixed, he did that, made you his and only his. His hands reach under your top, stroking up your spine and cooing in your ear. “I’m always there, I’ll always be there.”

That’s his promise, that he’ll always be there for you. He’ll always watch out for you, even if it’s not in the traditional romantic way you’d dreamt of as a child. It’s still special, you’re still special to him. And that’s enough, that’s really enough. Because your body calms down, and your nose finds comfort in his clean scent, eyes falling shut as you begin to relax under his touch.

He straightens out to kiss your cheeks, smooth your hair away from your face and take in the sadness streaked across your iris. It’s sadness with a hint of hope, a hint of something he’s never noticed before. You’re finally looking at him like he means something to you, and that makes Jeno’s chest swell. Heart beating rapidly as he leans in to catch your lips and suck on each until they blister under his bites.

He never kisses you softly when you’re alone, and maybe you like that. He’s passionate and rough, takes control of your mouth and tastes through every little crevice inside. He always tastes good and lingers on your tongue for hours throughout the day, but you like that. You need to feel him, smell him, taste him, belong to him. You need him to remind you of who you belong to when you start to stray and seek attention from anyone else.

“Would you hurt me?” You asked him before, and as your eyebrows crush together while kissing him you have to ask again. Because Haechan hurt you, he hurt you so bad. Jisung hurt you, he hurt you more than he’ll ever know. But Jeno.. he can’t hurt you. If he ever hurt you, there’s no way to predict what you’d do..

“Only if you hurt me.” He says in a serious tone, pulling back to look in your eyes. “You won’t, not anymore. You love me.”

“I—I do, I love you.”

It’s final, it’s your love story. Here in room 0423, the school you worked hard to get into, the scholarship you stayed up late day and night putting in extra credit for. All of that led to this moment in time with Jeno. Led you to your destiny, to the man that loves you.

“I know teddy, I’ve always known.” Taking your hands, he kisses down your fingers from the tips, spending extra time on your knuckles, turning them to drag his lips over your palms. “I have plans for us, our future.”

Plans. Future. Whatever that means.. you’re just happy to be here with him. To let him place your hands on his cock, laugh quietly at the way your fingers can barely wrap around him. “You’d never ask me to wear a condom.” He mumbles. He’s proud of that, says it in a boisterous tone.

“Never.” You agree solemnly. 

That’s the best part of this victory. You were never a simple one time fuck, you were always meant to be more. He had to break you down beyond whatever voided space sex could fill, had to ensure your only need in life should ever be him.

It’s easier to lift your legs up and prop your feet on the desk, fully exposing your core. You still whimper and hide your face, still give off a facade of not wanting it. 

He wants you to watch, see every second of him filling you up from inside out. To know that your body belongs to him, that he made you this way. He slaps your thighs to get you to hold yourself open, grabbing onto the base of his cock to stroke. Free hand finding your hair to ball up in his grip and keep your neck bent down. “Want my cock sweetheart?”

Jeno shakes you by the tuft of hair in his hold, nodding your head up and down. “I know the small little dicks you let fuck you weren’t shit.”

The way your hips stutter at that and wet arousal bubbles from your hole makes his cock twitch, inching closer to pick up a dollop of your slick, spreading it up to your clit with the tip of his length.

Thankful for the rubber sole of your shoes keeping your feet in place, you moan, biting it down still out of habit. His cock is nice, thick, covered in large projected veins. The fat pink tip dips in past your clenched hole, forcing a gushing wet sound to echo throughout the classroom. It should be humiliating but your body says otherwise, squeezing out more of your arousal with each teasing prod of his cock.

He plays with you like that for a while, to get you desperate and needy the way he likes. Cockhead probbing in and out enough for the mass of his bulbous tip to disappear inside of you. 

“J-Jeno..”

That’s it, that’s what he likes to hear. That shattered little way you say his name. He bends in again to lick your cheek clean, dragging his lips to your ear. “Don’t take your eyes off my cock, if you do I won’t be nice.”

That’s how he talks to you, none of that lovey dovey shit when you don’t actually want it. He talks to you like you’re dumb, like you need to be told what to do, and sometimes you do. Times like these when you relinquish all control of yourself and let him turn you into a puppet, you need to be told to speak and listen, to watch and enjoy. He’s good at that, at making you feel small when you need to.

Weakly nodding, you scoot back to get a better grip on the backs of your upper thigh, hold yourself fully open for him. It’s commemorative being here like this again, on this desk, watching him begin to slowly push his fat girth in. 

His hands travel down to hold your cunt open, making it stretch even more as you take and take. It always hurts a little bit trying to take all of his length at once, a good hurt, the type the tingles from the end of your spine to your brain. Watching it split you open this up close makes the pain even more surreal, drooling from your mouth like a starved animal. Pussy drooling around his cock the more he buries in, skin pulled taut around the thick shaft.

“Do you see?” Jeno says deep and raspy, pushing in more than half of his mass already. He fingers your clit for a minute, watching your hole convulse around him. “See how damn good you take it baby? You’re so good for me.”

“Unnghhh..” you wanna kick your legs out, throw yourself on him, wrap your arms around his neck. You have to wait, be patient and watch the rest of his size push in. “S-so big.”

“Was made for you.” He says clearly, through the fog clouding your ears. “Was made to fuck you teddy, that’s why I feel so good inside of you. We’re perfect for each other.”

Hearing that makes you brain melt, dropping your head to hang only for Jeno to wrap around your throat and lift your head up, burning you with his fierce gaze.

“When you kissed Haechan,” his hands constraint around your neck, jerking your head to look at him. “Was your body still screaming for me? Is that why you missed me?”

When he says he knows everything about you he really means it. Down to the infestation of emotions crushing your soul everyday. He knows you’ll never be able to recover from what he’s put you through, you’ll always be addicted, crawling like a fiend for the next hit.

“You were thinking of me, that’s it right? With your lips pressed tightly up against his skin.” He says in the most condescending tone, dragging the tips of his fingers up your jaw while keeping a tight clasp around your throat. “Was he even worth the fuck?”

In the end, he wasn’t, your eyes tell Jeno everything he needs to know. The ache and lust, pangs of guilt muddled between. “Did he fuck you like this?” 

The rest of his length sinks in, thrusting in the fat base of his cock ruthlessly, nearly losing your balance if not for the chokehold he has you in. “He’d never fuck you like this, not the way you need. Nobody ever will.”

To drive it home he pulls out completely, making your pussy gape wide open and dribble a wad of wetness out that spills onto the classroom floor. You want to agree with him, tell him that he’s right, that he’s the only one that will ever fulfill your needs now, coughing and blubbering your whimpers as you try to inhale. He fucks into you like a rabid feral wolf, plunging his cock in and out all the way to hear your gurgled scream. It hurts it hurts it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

The more animalistic he becomes, the more your skin drips with sweat, straining to keep yourself in this position on the desk. Legs more like jelly as your feet begin to slip and your ass slides forward. Jeno only pummels into you faster, determined to rip through your womb, leave a mark on your cervix. 

He grunts wildly, releasing your neck abruptly to wrap around your waist and cup your ass right as you nearly fall off the desk. Each thrust inside feels more erratic than the last, diving his cock in deeper than you’ve ever felt anything reach. He’s relentless, growling through it all, exerting power and anger as he hoists you up by your ass and your legs wrap around his hips limply.

“Fuck my baby into you.” He grunts furiously, throwing your body up and down on his cock. Hand prints bloom on your throat, dropping your head back to let out a howling moan, crying out for only Jeno to save you now. For Jeno to do whatever he wants with you.

Your cries has him laying you back on the desk, needing to see for himself how broken and pathetic you look. Hauling your thighs to wrap around him securely to not lose an inch of warmth blanketing his length. He pounds in balls deep, the clap of his sack meeting your ass resounding throughout the room wet and loud, making your legs tremble with each barreling thrust.

“Yeah? Fuck you full of my kids.” He growls, reaching for your shoulders to really lose it on you. Jerking back up the desk by each violent smack of his hips crashing down on you. It’s the crazed look in his eyes that hurdles you back into the last time, catching the faded sound of your pleading, of your denial. Screaming out no no! Over and over again, only for him to ignore you, have his way and ruin you for anyone else.

“P-please—“ you cry, squeezing around his meaty girth as much as you’re able to, feet dangling bonelessly behind him. “P-please, make me y-yours.”

It could have been this way last time, wanting him to have you instead of begging him to stop. It could have been normal, but the two of you were never destined for that. You were meant to be his as much as he was made to be yours. The wet smack of his balls turns messy, the looming broad frame mounting you losing his composure as you look up at him and more tears trail down your cheeks. 

“You always look prettiest when you cry.” Jeno grits out, falling down against you to slam home a few more jerky thrusts. Cock spurting out enough cum to surely knock you up, pushing it in deep with each digging swivel of his hips and he grabs onto your chin and laps your hot cheek clean of tears.

“Might have to keep getting you pregnant after this..” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your lips. “Fuck your ass in the mean time while you’re knocked up. I know how my teddy likes it..”

It’s hot and sticky between your bodies, nodding slowly at what he says, you suck on his thumb until both of you have calmed and caught your breath.

He’s not just inside of you, he’s seeping from your pores, infiltrating your nervous system, tearing you open from inside out. Each exhausted breath he takes lines up to yours, blinking simultaneously, twitching through the aftershocks of your orgasm at the same time. He’s yours, and you are his. One soul, one heart, one love combining you.

“I love you.” He pants, reaching between your sweaty bodies to smooth his palm over your extended stomach, bulging out with his cock lodged in so deep. “I love us.”

Jeno did more than ruin your life. He destroyed everything you’ve worked hard for. Shattering your hopes and dreams, demolishing any type of independence you strived to achieve, he stripped all those dreams away. 

He’s your new dream. 

“I love you too.” 

He hums, shifting to bracket your head with his biceps, littering gentle kisses across your wet tear-stained cheeks. “I know teddy, I know.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

There are many ways you envisioned the future. Flying cars, trains that can get you from one side of a state to another at the speed of light, maybe even actual superheroes.

You can even recall sitting side by side with Haechan reading Uzumaki after the fight you had that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place. If you hadn’t wanted to read that damn manga so bad, if you had just shown up at the comic book store any other day. He had sat there with you, thigh pressed to yours, bangs too long and shabby, flicking up with each blink. 

You thought it was nice, to like a boy, to have a crush. It was nice to go home and giggle while brushing your teeth, sent off to dream after your mom tucked you in. Haechan had appeared, the Haechan he’d grow up to be someday. The Haechan you wanted him to be someday, but the thing about dreams is they’re silly. 

“I don’t believe in dreams.” Jeno says behind you, zipping up the back of your dress. “There’s more power in manifestation.”

But dreams are manifestations if you think about it, and while you dreamt of the future with Haechan, you remember it had been just like Uzumaki. 

Spirals had begun to sprout up in the small town around you, driving everyone insane. Infecting each inch of surface and land, and you, you reached for Haechan as he escaped the swarm of spirals. You screamed, shouted, pleaded for him to grab a hold of your hands and save you.

And then you woke up, sitting up in your childhood bed feeling a sense of dread. 

“I manifested you.” Jeno kisses your nape, fixing your hair into place. “My Teddy.”

No. He didn’t. That’s what you want to say, to let him know. He didn’t manifest you, you let him in years ago when Haechan stood there in your dream. Watched you get swallowed up by the spirals, the exact same way he watched Jeno swallow you whole. He did nothing then, he did nothing now, exactly like your dream.

It’s been a week now since you last went to class. A week now since you moved out of your studio apartment, Jeno reminding you that ‘That shithole is no place for my soon-to-be wife to live.’ as he drove you to a new apartment. Furnished, never lived in, a great view of the city, and two bedrooms. 

‘Until I’ve saved up enough for a house, this will be perfect for our little family.’

He kisses your forehead and held you close, admiring the scenery outside of your bedroom window. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything again.’

Don’t ask questions, don’t worry, just trust him.

Because he knows you’d never handle the truth without a fight. The anonymous threats he holds over Haechan’s father’s head, the thousands of dollars he’s set aside just to get you away from your childhood friend. It’s all been a part of his plan, and thankfully it worked. Of course it did, everything works out for Jeno.

“We won’t stay out too late.” Jeno smiles, reaching over to the passenger seat to tweak your chin. “You look so fucking cute in that costume.”

“I feel fat.” You mumble, poking at your exposed stomach.

“Don’t start.” He tuts, slapping your hand away. “You look like my fluffy cute teddy.”

You really do. Wearing fluffy round ears on your head, fuzzy tan brown bralette and matching shorts with a puffed tail attached. Jeno held up the costume with a huge smile, tossing it your way only a few hours ago and letting you know to get ready for a Halloween party tonight. 

His costume seemed much more simple, nothing more than a Michael Meyers face mask and his usual attire. Tight black tee, fitted dark wash jeans, combat boots, studded leather belt. 

You look really good too Jeno. 

That’s what you wanted to say, especially after the last few weeks of falling asleep in the same bed together. You really really really wanted to say it, to tell him he looks hot, sexy, devastatingly attractive.

You say nothing though, following along with his arm around your shoulder through a throng of partygoers dancing around in their fun costumes. Fairies, iconic characters, Barbies, Bratz Dollz, cops and robbers. It’s fun really, your first Halloween party, your first Halloween party with your boyfriend.

“Water?” He hands you a cup of clear liquid, ignoring the bottles of alcohol lined up atop the kitchen counter of whoevers house this is. 

“Thanks.”

He nods, directing you to a long winding staircase leading you up to an enormous hallway entrance. Rich people of course, luxurious decor, expensive paintings, every inch of this place spotless surely thanks to a 24 hour live-in maid service.

“There’s still one last thing I need to fix for you.”

Jeno walks backward, facing you with that blank faced mask on, arms prominent and flexed in the confines of his tight shirt. “That’s why we’re here Teddy.”

What could that even mean? One last thing to fix for you. Nothing can be fixed anymore.

“Come here baby.” It’s dark up here, darker in the room he tugs you inside of, immediately pinning your body to the wall, digging his fingers into your waist. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?” He grunts, turning you around to press your breasts to the wall, stroking your hair aside to kiss your nape and toy with the leather choker there.

He says that offhandedly sometimes while you’re lazing around in bed after waking up. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of you, he has no idea how he’ll manage once you give birth.

That’s why you’re here, surprised he even bothered to find a room to hide you away in. Among the many things Jeno likes, he loves to show you off, love for everyone to know you are his.

He doesn’t waste time to strip your panties off, dropping them to your ankles to squeeze your ass with his heavy thick palms. Holding you apart to watch your wrinkled rim flinch and tighten up. “Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta fuck your pretty pussy, you know that. Have to make sure your womb stays full.” 

He still runs a thumb across your rim, just to watch your hips jut back, so needy.

“Stay still okay?” Jeno says sweetly, pointing to the door. “And don’t look away.”

He steps back for a minute, letting the cool air circulating around the room roll shivers up your back, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

You think you hear a click, something else familiar that you can’t exactly put your finger on before the warmth of his body returns and presses against you. 

“Now where were we? My poor teddy, already making a mess.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, hand slipping between your thighs to rub the wetness around that's smeared down. “Should I fuck you now? Make my teddy feel real good?”

“Y-yes..” you whine, keeping your gaze locked on the door like he commanded. It’s not good to disobey Jeno, and you don’t intend to.

“Beg for it better than that..” the weight of his size smacks against your ass, hot and heavy. Letting you know he’s fully hard and ready to fuck. “Come on.”

“Please Jeno.. wanna feel f-full..” you do your best to sound sweet, docile and small. Anything to not spend another minute without him inside of you. 

“Is that all I am to you? A big cock to get yourself off on? Huh?” He seeps between your thighs, gripping onto your hips firmly. Rocking his hips forward, the clap of his skin hitting the perk of your ass resounds. Your skin sticky from body shimmer and lotion, moistening up as he ruts between your thighs.

“N-no.. love you, love your cock too.” You whimper, having to bite down on your hand to not scream when he slaps your hip and lets out a deep pleased grunt. 

“That’s what I like to hear sweetheart.” Without bothering to warn you, he pushes in, pausing a little more than halfway only to savor the wet trickle of arousal drenching his length. “Fuck, that’s how much you love my cock? Dripping this fucking much already.”

“Yesyesyes!” You nod into your hand, bumping your head against the wall. Biting down harder on your fingers as impending screams rise up your throat. Muffling the one that breaks free when he pushes into the hilt.

Jeno’s cock always feels like the first time everytime, so big and fucking thick. Penetrating deep in ways that don’t even seem humanly possible. He always makes you cum, makes you want to go again even when your body needs a break. 

“L-love h-how full you m-make me!” You blabber, reaching to grab onto the wall as he builds up speed and starts to thrust faster. Palms slide up your waist to fuck you the way he wants, pulling out to the tip each time and diving the entirety of his length right back in to really make you feel and take every inch. 

“You love it?! You love me?” He growls, sliding one hand lower to find your clit before you’re able to respond. He knows you’ll choke on your next words, making your pussy gush out more around him as he rams up and fucks you vigorously. “Answer me!”

“Yes yes! I love you!” You wail, bounced up and down fiercely. The angle placing the tip of his cock right under your navel. “Ah! Ah f-fuck!”

“Yeah, keep fucking saying that sweetheart.” He roars, biting at your shoulder, swiping your clit side to side. Thin fingers play you like a fiddle, stroking and pinching your clit until you’re clenching around him. Toes pointed off the ground, neck tossed back in ecstasy. 

Jeno reaches so deep, he fills you up so so good, he stretches you open in a way you’ve become addicted to. Clawing at the wall on the brink of your orgasm, chanting repetitive begging between your moans. He eats it all up, groans against your skin, shoving his mask off as the door opens.

“That’s it Teddy,” fisting your hair, he shoves your cheek against the wall, maneuvering your face toward the stream of light that enters. “Milking my cock so fucking good.”

Haechan’s eyes meet yours, wide and bewildered, quickly scanning from Jeno back to you. “Cum for me, let him see how you really take it baby. Show that bitch who you fucking love.”

It hurts. The pleasure between your thighs taking over your lower half as your heart pinches and aches, the two powerful emotions crashing head to head. And Jeno thrusts in hard, swiping his fingers rapidly along the sides of your clit until you’re crying out, slapping the wall with a shout.

“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl.” He rasps behind you, cupping your face to bite down on your jaw. Through your dazed euphoria you think that’s your broken voice spewing out a song of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, eyes rolled back as the cool chill washes away from your skin with an overwhelming wave of heat. 

Jeno sport’s the biggest and most wicked smile, watching Haechan’s face fall. The last thing his old best friend could snatch away from his life, successfully crushing the relationship you ever had with him. He watches his old friend back away disgusted, and he cums, filling you with a hot stream of white, exclaiming how much he loves you.

“Love you so much baby,” he’s never sounded so honest, so enthralled and at ease. Drawing your waist back with his ripped arms, wrapping a safe hold around you to keep your limbless body against his. “Love you enough to give you my baby.”

His palms glide down, ending in their new favorite spot right beneath your navel. Kissing up your neck softly, murmuring about the future. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now Teddy. We’re one now, you and I.”

There’s a hint of threat laced in his words, gently petting the area where he’s imagined a small bump will begin to show soon. 

They day you met Haechan and lost him broke your heart. The day you met Jeno turned your life upside down, discovered the shattered pieces and put them back together again, finally showing you what you’ve always secretly wished for.

“I love you Jeno.”

“I know.”

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #kpop smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream fanfiction #neopuppy fics #nct fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #haechan fanfic #jisung fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct x reader

[marvelouslizzie]

You're Stuck with Me - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: When you find out your boyfriend's cheating on you with his best friend, you immediately tell Bucky Barnes about the affair and propose revenge sex.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.9K

Warnings: 18+ smut, cheating, revenge fuck, language, oral sex (female receiving), protected and unprotected sex, praise and degradation mix, pet names, teasing, no mention of y/n

A/n: We are getting a little out of our comfort zone with this story. I hope you will enjoy it.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's an amazing writer. You should definitely check her Bucky Barnes stories.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, finishing your bottle of sparkling water. "I don't want you to cry and regret it after."

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You sound so confident that even you are surprised. “It’s just sex.”

"Just sex." He repeats with his eyebrows raised. "You never seemed to me like the type of girl who would go for just sex, doll."

“Maybe you should’ve paid a little more attention. You would’ve realized you might have the wrong kind of impression.”

"Oh, really?" He leans in amused. "Big words."

“They're not. You just aren’t used to talking to me.”

"You're telling me you're not a commitment girl?" He presses the matter, not believing you even a little. You two might not be friends, but he figured out what type of person you are.

“I’m just saying I won’t regret having sex with you. The rest is your assumption.”

His gaze immediately drops to your chest. "You trust my skills that much?"

You roll your eyes. “Do you have to be this arrogant all the time?”

"Do you have to be a brat all the time?" He doesn't wait for your response, though, as he continues. "Oh wait, you can't help it. Totally in your nature."

“So women who don't stroke your ego are brats? Maybe I just don’t care that much about you. Did you consider that?” There’s a hint of anger in your voice but nothing more. He always manages to challenge you and push your buttons. “Maybe you aren’t the only one who didn’t like those double dates. Get off your high horse.” You add without missing a beat. You realized how bored and uninterested he was then. No matter what topic you were bringing up, he wasn’t open. That’s one of the reasons why you believe he thinks he’s better than anyone.

"Fuck." He shakes his head. "You and that mouth of yours. Do you see me going around and calling women brats?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “Those dates were absolutely horrible. Your little boy toy is the biggest loser I've ever met."

“You seem like a guy who would do that. You are not? Ops, wrong assumption I guess.” You make a fake I am sorry face. “He’s not my boy toy but I agree, he’s a big loser.”

He smiles when you finish your sentence, so satisfied. "Why do you enjoy pushing me so much? Does it turn you on?"

“How am I pushing you? Do you think this is pushing?” You don’t budge.

"What is it then?"

“I know you don’t like me and I am just giving you back that same energy.” You tell him the truth. That’s what you always do: you give the same energy people give you. If they are kind, you are kinder. If they are assholes, you are a bigger asshole.

Bucky snorts, running a hand through his hair. "Where was this attitude hidden around him?"

You breathe out loudly, not hiding how bored you are. “Are we gonna talk all night or are we gonna do this?”

He smiles in a way you never saw him smile before he leans in even more, invading your space. "It's been that long, huh?"

You make a face. “You can’t tell me sex with her was great. I saw their little sex tapes.” You can’t deny what he’s just said, but you can deflect.

He gives you the most surprised face. "What?"

“You heard me. If it had been a while for me, then it must have been even longer for you.”

"Indeed." His voice doesn't betray any emotion.

“Then stop belittling me. We both have been having bad sex and we both got cheated on. You aren’t better than me.”

"When did I say that, woman?"

“You always act like you are better than everyone.”

"That's just your assumption." He paraphrases you with the biggest smile on his face

“Prove me wrong then.”

And he does, looking at you for a couple of seconds. When you don't move, he finally grabs you by your chin and kisses you. He's not hesitant or testing, he's literally trying to claim your mouth as he wants to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip. When you finally give him access, his hand goes to the back of your neck, the contrast between his soft touch and his passionate way of kissing making you moan.

"Your mouth…"

“What about it?” You ask while still looking at his lips.

He kisses you again, like he's starved, his hand pulling your hair a little more. He tastes like some fresh toothpaste and a little chocolate.

"So sweet, yet so bratty."

“Do you have a thing for brats for something?” You pull him by his collar and kiss him again. He might be an asshole, but he knows how to kiss.

"Maybe just for a special brat."

“What does that mean?” You stop and look into his eyes.

He lets go of your hair and lowers his hands to your waist. "Tell me to stop and I will. Tap me anywhere if you can't talk and I'll stop. Get it?"

“Yeah. Same goes for you. Any lines you don’t wanna cross?”

"Just don't call me by someone else's name." He sighs.

“Fine by me. Don’t use any pet names you used for your ex.”

"I wouldn’t dream of it. What else?" He smirks.

“No degrading.”

"So no my little whore?”

“That doesn’t sound like degrading to me but another rule: Don’t say things you don’t mean. I don’t like that heat-of-the-moment bullshit.”

He seems to like your rules. "God, how did you date that asshole for 5 months?"

“I was just giving that so-called nice guy a chance and it got me here. How did you date that bitch for 8 months?”

"Woah. Bitch? Never heard you referring to a woman like this."

“I never liked her.” You shrug. And she cheated on him. So why not?

"Why?"

“I don’t know. I always thought she was full of herself. Always looking down at people.”

"Like me." He stares at you. "I understand."

“Not like that. She always talks badly about people. Most of the time, behind their backs. She always looks for a way to steal the spotlight. I actually wondered what you saw in her.”

"I won't talk about a woman badly, especially my ex, but I guess we just want to give people a chance."

“That woman cheated on you. With someone she called her best friend after you two decided to move in together. Maybe longer. But sure, make me feel bad about calling her a bitch.”

Bucky seems to think about it for a few seconds. You appreciate his non-talking shit about my ex policy, but in this case? Not deserved. They cheated on you for months. They could have chosen to break up, but they didn't want that. They pretended they are just friends, proposed double dates, lied and hid, and made promises. Your relationships weren't working perfectly well, your sex lives seem very shitty and probably there were signs about this affair, but you cannot blame yourself or Bucky for not seeing them. You deserved the truth. You just can't believe you two are actually in this situation. Giving the wrong people a chance… never again for sure.

"You're right. This is such a fucking shitty thing. I mean, at least fucking break up with me. God, we kissed them, fucked them after they were with each other." He makes a disgusted face.

“So we practically fucked each other already, you know?” You make a joke, trying to change the mood a little. It really is fucked up.

"They didn't see us having sex though." He shakes his head. "They managed to make the lamest sex tapes in history."

“Yeah, I am still traumatized by her fake moans.”

"Fake?" He snorts.

“Yeah, I know how sex is with him. No way those moans are real.”

"Maybe they are. Maybe she enjoys it. She likes him so much they decided this fucking shitty sex is worth it." He leans in and kisses you again suddenly and you don't understand if he's angry because he regrets being with her and getting cheated on or he regrets being betrayed because he wants her so much. You know they fought a lot from your soon-to-be ex, but 8 months are something after all.

You kiss him back nonetheless, enjoying the way his lips and tongue feel. You don't remember the last time you've been kissed this good. If you've ever been with someone like this… he's basically eating you with his mouth.

“It won’t take long for her to regret it. Talking from experience,” you say while kissing him back. You wanna know if he wants her back or not. Not that it matters. You are just curious. Maybe he wants to make her jealous.

"What she wants doesn't matter anymore, doll." He strokes your hair when he stops kissing you so you can take a deep breath. "You called me arrogant, right?"

“Yeah?” You answer hesitantly.

"Do arrogant people ever let themselves be humiliated?" He pauses. "I don't want something like this. Someone like this. I have absolutely no desire to keep a person who does this. I am a patient person, I try to work things out, but this? Never in a fucking million years. Nothing about this relationship was right, I suppose. What about you?"

“I don’t care about him anymore.” Your response comes immediately. You were completely done with him the moment you found out about their affair. There’s no turning back. It was like a switch. That’s why you are here with Bucky. “I tried so hard to make it work, thinking relationships are hard and we gotta put some effort to make it work. All bullshit. I’m done with him. I’m done with lowering my standards. Done with 5-minute sex, and ‘you turn me on so much, I can’t help it’ excuses. There’s no going back for me.”

You see his little smirk and can't help but touch his face. He is really one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

"I never liked him, and you know it. That small dick energy is unbearable. I think he'd have a heart attack if he even heard us. Can you imagine?"

“I… actually can.” You can envision how that would hurt him and his insufferable ego. “God, she would hate me so much.” You smile.

"Oh, she would. She's always been jealous of you anyway."

“And he hates that you don’t even have to be nice to make people like you. Now he would have an extra reason.”

"Fuck, doll." You feel his thumb on your neck and you shiver. "I'm gonna sound crazy, but wouldn't make you feel satisfied if indeed they heard us?"

You blink, trying to understand his offer. That actually would actually give you pleasure… knowing that he suffers just like you did. You also notice the pet name he uses. You never heard him use it with his (ex) girlfriend, so he’s keeping his promise. “I’d… really like that.”

"Yeah?" He leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "A voice message?"

“Sounds better than actually calling.” You turn your face a little and kiss him on the lips.

"Look at you, you ignored me for months." He bites your bottom lip lightly.

“It wasn’t like you were friendly.”

Does he even hear you?

He takes you in his arms. "Bedroom?"

“Bedroom.” You wrap your legs around his torso in agreement as he leads the way.

"Left?"

“Yeah, hurry up.”

He opens the door with his elbow, then doesn't bother to close it as he lets you down. His hands find your blouse and you hear the ripping sound before you can raise your arms.

You’re surprised but not bothered. Truth be told, you find that very hot. But you still unclip your bra.

“Fucking hell.” He manages to whisper before he leans in and grabs your breasts, his tongue licking all the way down from your neck to your nipple.

You tug on his T-shirt and try to take it off while he’s busy exploring your body.

"You hid these from me."

“Not specifically from you. Move your hands up so I can take this off.”

"From who then?" He frowns and lets go for a second so you can take it off.

“From everyone, of course.”

"God, I wanna come all over them. So pretty.”

“Maybe you should make a mental list. Come on her tits. Come inside her mouth. Come inside her pussy.”

His eyes glow, and you giggle. "Who said I didn't?"

“You did?” You sound impressed. “Wanna share?”

"Wanna share my come? Sure." His fingers find your zipper and you gasp when he takes your pants off from one try.

“Oh, you are filthier than I thought.” You say to cover your surprise.

"You thought about how filthy I am?"

“You think I didn’t consider how this would be before offering a revenge fuck?”

"When?" He takes ahold of your underwear, and you're unsure if he wants to rip it off or simply take it off.

“I just told you.”

"I thought…" He blushes, realizing he misunderstood. It's an asshole move to assume that while you were with that prick, the thought of him like this has even passed your mind. "Forget it."

“No, no, tell me.” You pull him closer by his belt. “Let’s get rid of these.”

"Did you ever think about me before today?" He helps you take off his pants while finally getting rid of your panties.

“What if I did? Does it make me a terrible person?”

"Terrible." He nods, letting the pieces of your underwear drop on the floor along with his boxers and pants before he steps out of them. "So terrible." He kisses you, his hands on your hips, bringing you closer to his cock. You didn't even have proper time to look at him. "The worst."

“I knew it.” You play along. “What about you?”

"I thought about this mouth a lot."

“Just my mouth?” You nudge him by moving your hips up.

"Thought about fucking you in the bathroom."

“When?” Did he really want to fuck you before? He never looked at you twice or at least that’s what you thought.

"A few weeks ago… we… the office. You were with your little group. They were smoking and you wore that fucking lipstick that just blew my mind away. I didn't intend to. You didn't even notice me." He kisses you again but doesn't deepen it.

Everything he said takes you by surprise. You didn’t think that he ever paid attention to you, let alone notice your lipstick and get turned on by it.

“I noticed you, but I thought you were bored. You had a grumpy look on your face most of the time. I liked your blue shirt, though. It makes your eyes pop.”

He moans. Is it so easy to make him moan? you wonder.

"I'm always grumpy and arrogant, of course."

“You don’t seem that grumpy and arrogant right now.” You gently bite his neck and then soothe the spot with your tongue.

"Fucking hell, woman." You feel him grabbing your ass. "Tell me you have a condom."

“In that drawer.” You point to it casually. “But just so you know, I’m on the pills.”

He nods, contemplating for a little while before helping you get on bed and taking a condom from your nightstand.

You don’t question why he chooses to reach for it, yet you can’t help but wonder how it would be like to feel him without any barrier. Your mouth waters at the sight of his naked body.

Maybe, maybe you should let him fuck your mouth, too. Why not?

He quickly puts the condom on and before he can climb on bed, he looks at you. "What you said earlier about the voice message, do you still stand by it?"

You realize you actually forgot about them or why you are doing this for a second. “Yeah. I want them to suffer.”

"Good." He takes his pants from the floor and finds his phone quickly. You didn't even realize he had it when you undressed him.

“So what are we doing exactly? Recording a small part and sending it?”

"Ihm." He nods. "Want that asshole to hear what your real moans sound like." He finally sits on the bed and you spread your legs further apart.

“Only my moans?” You ask while he positions himself.

"No video," he says immediately, and you giggle. That wasn’t your question, but it’s okay. You wonder if he’s being possessive with you already or it's something else.

“I meant what about your moans.”

He smiles. "Yeah, of course, but I'm not a loud person." He drops the phone close to your shoulder. "You, on the other hand… I bet you're a fucking screamer."

“I guess we'll find out. Is it recording already?”

"No, uhm, can you… The code is 0478."

“Let’s start and then we can record when it gets really loud.” You try to sound normal, but you are surprised he's just told you his passcode.

"You sure? We can trim it. I don't want to interrupt you."

"Don't worry. I'm good at multitasking." You give him a smile. "But if you wanna record the whole thing, so you can get off to it later, just say that." You can’t help but tease him a little.

"No, no, it's alright. I just want you to feel good, okay?" He smiles, his hands making their way to your thighs.

"Oh, I will. Don't worry about that." You pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his body. As he pushes inside, you start to forget what you were talking about before.

"Oh, fuck me." He groans when he sees the shape of your mouth. Such a perfect O. You feel so good and he's not even halfway inside you. "You're so wet."

"I can do that." You cheekily respond. "But we would need to change the position." You ignore his second comment.

He kisses you as if he needs to taste you again to be able to breathe, his tongue quickly finding yours once you open your mouth. Your hand gets into his hair at the same time he properly gets inside you.

You moan at the fullness. You haven't felt this stretched for so long, but it doesn't hurt. It just makes you crave more.

"Such a brat when you only needed a good cock." You know he's intentionally teasing you, so you try to find a good response.

"We'll see how good it is."

"Brat." He repeats again and moves his hands to your breast. His thrusts are not constant as he tries to test what you like.

"Put your mouth on them already." You know he wants to. He has been looking at them since he stepped inside your apartment. And you want him to do it, too. The thought itself makes you moan.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Depends. Yes, if you like that. No, if you don't."

He takes a handful of your breast in his mouth in response, not only your nipple, his thrusts getting slower, but a little deeper at the same time. The sound of his tongue licking on your skin makes you close your eyes.

The way he sucks your nipple makes you think he likes taking orders. What a great turn of events, you think.

He switches to the other one quickly, giving it the same treatment, while keeping the pace.

"Do you like it?"

“Yeah, yeah.” You quickly respond. “I love it.”

"Faster?"

“Yep, faster.” You gently push his head onto your breast again, loving the double stimulation.

He moans excitedly as he resumes licking and playing with your breasts, carefully trying to leave a hickey around your nipple. "These are mine now."

He doesn’t mean that, does he? Must be the heat of the moment, but you agreed on not doing that. So you decide to remind him. “Don’t say things you don’t actually mean, remember?”

"I didn't forget, brat. Did you?"

He bites on your nipple, gently, but you still feel it.

“So you actually mean that?” You really want to know, so you ignore the fact that he called you a brat again.

"Mean what?" He leaves a kiss on your nipple to soothe any possible pain. "That these are mine?"

“Yeah.” You sound impatient. Why is he acting clueless now?

"They are, they belong to me. So does your bratty mouth." He kisses you shortly.

You can’t deny how his words turn you on even more.

"I imagined fucking you in a bathroom that day at the office." He groans. "So terrible of me, right? Imagining you with come dripping out of you, down to your thighs as you go back to work. Months of petty silence solved."

“If I'd known my silence bothered you that much, I would have been even more silent until it drove you crazy enough to do something about it.” You move your hips up to match his rhythm. “I just thought you just preferred not speaking to me because you didn’t like me.”

"I would have screwed everything up and fucked you, you understand?" He looks you in the eye, making it clear he is honest. "I would have become a horrible person, but not even that thought would have made me reconsider."

“Yet you didn’t do anything, did you? You never acted on it. You were just a grumpy man with terrible thoughts.” You just want him to know he’s not a horrible person, yet you can’t help but tease him a little at the same time.

"And you just needed the cock of that grumpy man with terrible thoughts, huh?" His thrusts are so much faster now. You wonder: how the fuck does he expect you to answer?

All you can do is whine and moan because somehow he manages to hit all the right places.

"My little cock whore." He groans. "Mine, okay? Just like I am yours."

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You can’t help but react. You find it so hot you can barely stay still. The way he talks during sex… They would really die if they heard you two. That makes you remember… You were supposed to hit the record button.

"Just Bucky. Or James."

“Where the fuck is your phone, Bucky?” You ask while trying to find it without actually looking.

He's confused for a split second, but then he remembers what you agreed on. "To your right."

You finally find the phone and unlock it quickly before dropping it without any care as soon as it starts to record.

"Oh, doll, you're too wet for me. So good." The sound of your skin slapping and the whimpers are so loud. You can’t contain yourself even if you try.

“Faster, please,” you say without thinking. It feels like you are already close. You don’t care if you have to beg for it.

"So greedy." He cries out when he feels your hands on his ass, pulling him deeper inside you.

“Fuckk. That feels good!” You moan loudly and arch your back.

"Holy shit."

He suddenly stops, making you open your eyes and giving him an accusatory look, but then you notice the phone in his hands. Oh, you forgot about it for a second and you have no idea why.

"Are you sending it?"

"Ihm." He doesn't just lock his phone after he is done. He freaking turns it off, surprising you. “I don’t want any interruptions. Want to fuck you in peace.”

You just pull him into another kiss, more passionate this time. You feel his right hand on your tummy, tickling you a little, before stopping down, above your clit.

“You close?” You ask him to make sure because you surely are.

"I'm trying not to come," he says honestly.

“Oh, you can. I’m close, too. I just need it a little faster.” His hand on your clit already makes you realize it won’t take much for you to fall apart.

He pulls back, taking his cock almost completely out, and the emptiness makes you whine. Then he thrusts with full force, making you moan so loudly that you can’t recognize your own voice.

"Fuck, look at you. And those sounds…" He brings his thumb to your lips. "Come on, be a good girl and show me how your pretty little mouth would take my cock. The one that's inside your pussy right now, ready to come for you."

“Such a filthy mouth.” You say while moaning. “Come with me so I can take that cock inside my mouth and show you what it can do.”

"God, come, baby. Please come." He is begging you at this point. His voice is so desperate and soft.

His neediness, the way he says those words finally pushes you off the edge.

“Oh god.” You try to breathe as the orgasm takes over your body, making you shake. Your mouth opens, letting out the most unfiltered moan you've ever heard from yourself. It is pure pleasure with no thoughts, no worries. Your heart and your head are on fire, begging for more. You want this feeling to last as long as possible.

He comes shortly after you, but you don't realize it until you hear his loud groan vibrating against your chest. His hips and ass cheeks are trembling under your touch as he seems lost in his world for a few seconds. You run your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to come down from his high.

“Oh god, baby." You feel his breath on your wet skin and you sigh. "Can I live here forever?"

“That good?” You can’t help but ask. He can feel your smile without looking at you.

He looks up. "Ihm. What about you?"

“Wanna get your ego stroked?” You ask genuinely. “Promise that you’re not gonna use it against me.”

He kisses your throat. "I don't make such promises, woman."

“Then you won’t get to hear it.” You expose your throat more while talking.

"What if I eat the truth out of you?"

“Eat the truth out of me?”

"Ihm. You know… when you're under sex spell, you become truthful."

“You are welcome to try.” There’s no way you are gonna turn down another orgasm like this one.

"Perfect." He leaves another kiss on the valley between your breasts and sighs. "Have to take this off first," he says, taking his cock out with a small hiss before standing up near the bed, watching you. "Where can I throw this away?"

“There’s a trashcan in the bathroom.” You point at it while getting more comfortable on the bed.

"Be right back."

You feel something cold on your back and realize it’s his phone. You put it on the nightstand, thinking about how he turned his phone off in the middle of the sex. You make a mental note to ask him to send you that voice message later, so you can remember how good the sex felt.

He comes back with your small semi-wet towel and watches you carefully. "Look, I meant what I said about eating the truth out of you, but only if you are okay with it. I won't ask again. I could always just leave, you know? No big deal." But you can see in his face it would be a big deal. Maybe he likes your company. The sex is amazing.

“Do you wanna leave, Bucky?” You already know his answer.

"No, I don't."

“Then come here and do whatever you wanna do.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. You watch him drop to his knees and, at the same time, drag you closer to the edge of the bed as quickly as he can. You let out a surprised gasp, but it turns into a whole moan when he lifts your legs on his shoulders and starts licking you from your entrance to your clit.

“Fuck, you weren’t joking.”

He acknowledges your words by playing with his tongue around your clit. You move your hips slowly, up and down, just to create a little more friction. Your greed grows while you watch him eagerly lick every bit of your pussy.

You don't expect to feel his fingers at your entrance all of the sudden as you're focused on his tongue. And you especially don't expect him to curl two of his fingers and get them inside you at once. No warnings.

“Oh fuck, yes!” You find yourself grabbing his hair, just needing something to hold on to.

And he moans, buckling his hips in the air at the slight pain. The pace of his fingers matches his tongue, but it's not enough.

“Add the third finger.” You sound desperately close.

He is surprised, you can sense it, but he quickly does what you say, his tongue eagerly toying with your clit faster than before.

“I’m so close!” You warn.

He stops licking for a little and you try to move your hips to meet his mouth. What the fuck is he doing? No time for edging.

"What were you gonna say, doll? What did you think it would stroke my ego?"

“What?” You raise on your elbows, looking like a mess. “Really?”

"If you want my tongue, you give me an answer."

“You are unbelievable!” You sound so betrayed.

"I warned you not to cry, doll."

You really want to keep that thought to yourself, but the ache between your legs doesn’t care about your pride. “I can’t believe you are doing this right now.”

He gives you a small smile, and you see him leaning in again. You think you won, getting more comfortable, ready to come soon, but he only licks you twice, teasingly, and lets your clit go.

"Do what?"

You whine loudly. The feeling of his tongue lingers on your clit. “You wanna play dirty?” Maybe you can’t win this fight, but it doesn’t mean you can’t win others. “Fine.” You sit up a little, looking into his eyes. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Happy now?”

"Delighted. Now was it so hard? You get a reward for being my good and honest girl."

“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes.

"Fucking brat," you hear him whisper right before his tongue finds your clit again, finally licking it in circles properly. He starts to move his fingers, too, and even though they are obviously not even close to the thickness of his cock, they feel incredible.

But you are too annoyed now, at the same time. A part of you just wants to hold back and not give him the pleasure of hearing you come. So he tries harder. You hear him whimpering as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. And you swallow a moan while your legs are trembling.

"Come on, baby." His fingers move faster, too. "Let it go."

Your whole body starts to shake uncontrollably, but you keep your moans to yourself, pressing your lips together tightly just out of spite. You can see he hates it, but he doesn't stop until you finish coming. And it feels amazing, but you are sure it would have been even better if you had let yourself enjoy it freely.

He sighs into your clit and leaves a kiss there before he stands up. "You're mad."

“No shit, Sherlock.”

"Ah, doll. Nothing can tame that mouth."

“More like actions and consequences. I wasn’t ready to share that, but you forced me to say it for an orgasm, so that’s what you get. An orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.”

"Forced?" His face shows concern as he sits next to you. "That wasn’t my intention. The last thing I want is to make you feel trapped.” He seems like he’s confused. He looks around and meets your gaze again. “Do you want me to leave?"

“If you wanna leave, just leave, but if that wasn’t really your intention, you can start with apologizing.”

"I am sorry," he immediately says, taking your hands into his. "I was just trying to… be silly I guess."

“You wanted your ego stroked, I get it. We both need it after what happened, but… I don’t know. I just felt exposed.”

"I'm sorry." He kisses your cheek. "I might be a grumpy arrogant son of a bitch, but forcing…"

You start to tear up, hearing him say sorry this quickly. Fucking relationship trauma.

"Oh god, baby, I am sorry, I didn't…" he tries to wipe your tears with his thumbs. "I'm a jackass, but I swear I wasn't trying to force you. I thought it was just a game. My bad."

“No, no. This is on me. Sorry.” You try to take a deep breath. “He just never said sorry no matter how hurt I was. He always had an excuse. This is just… trauma I guess.”

"What a fucking douchebag. I can fuck him up really good, you know?" He suggests. "Just say the words."

“He’s probably already fucked up by the fact that we are fucking.” That thought cheers you up a little.

"His face deserves it, too." Bucky puffs and kisses your wet cheeks. "To be honest, this whole should I leave question comes from my relationship trauma, too. So you’re not alone. She either wanted me to leave or she left every fucking time we disagreed on something. She once threw my shoes out of the window just so I'd go. I don't know why we kept trying…"

“Oh.” You finally understand why he keeps offering to leave. It isn't about you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you were just trying to get out when things get hard.”

"Don't be sorry. I prefer to talk on the spot, to be honest. Letting everything out is healthier. Don't "

“Or take a break whenever it’s needed. Doesn’t mean you have to leave though.”

"Yeah! Exactly."

You laugh a little. You never realized how similar you two are. Today is changing your perspective completely. “Your apology is accepted by the way, but under one condition.”

"What is that?'

“Tell me something about yourself that you don’t want me to know.”

He thinks for a second. "My breath smells like death in the morning. I can make your plants die if you let me."

You shake your head, amused. “That’s not good enough. Everyone’s breath smells bad in the morning.”

"What do you wanna know then?"

“Something on the same level of having your best orgasm.”

"I think you broke me."

“What?”

"You broke me." He repeats as if that is an explanation.

“In what way?”

He kisses you just as desperately as he did in the kitchen, as if this is the first time he kisses you and he can't ever get enough. "I want you for more than one time, do you understand?"

“Oh. Well… That can be arranged.”

"Yeah?" He drags you by your hips, placing you on top of his thighs.

“I would actually like that.”

He kisses you some more, letting his hands wander all over your body, stopping especially on your neck and breasts.

"You like it rough, don't you? Not complaining about me ripping your clothes off, loving the bites." He pulls your hair, just to prove his point in case you deny. You moan.

“Yeah, apparently you like it rough, too.” You don’t deny. Why would you?

"Of course I do, brat." He then turns you around suddenly. "All fours, please."

“Since you asked so nicely,” You stop for the dramatic effect and say as sarcastically as possible: “Boss.”

"Wanna make me your boss?"

“You are already acting like one.” You stand on all fours, pushing your ass back while lowering your head.

"Fuck! You're such a sight, you know?" Bucky's eyes don't leave your body.

“Am I?”

"I wanna look at you like this all day long."

You look at him amused. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much patience.”

You notice him shaking his head. "Of course."

“It’s rude to make me wait like this, you know?”

"Sorry, just wanted to remember this." Bucky feels a little bad for the thoughts he has. He mentally took a picture of you cause he can't ask this from you, right? You're not a couple, and even if you were, it doesn't mean exchanging or keeping photos like this would be okay.

His hips touch your ass as he positions himself at your entrance. "Any limits that come to your mind? I won't ask again."

“We already decided on the rules. I don’t think there’s anything besides them.”

"I'm not gonna hold back this time." Not completely… he grabs a handful of your hair as he thrusts inside you. "I'm gonna pound the fuck out of you and you're gonna take it like a good little girl, understand?"

“I understand. You won’t stop until I say stop.”

"Jesus Christ." He moans halfway inside you at the feel of your extra wet pussy. He feels out of breath just by standing still. "How…"

“Oh, fuck.” You nearly choke. It feels unbelievably good. This position is doing wonders.

"I didn't think-" he says, but at the same time doesn't move an inch. "Fuck, it feels too good, this pussy is driving me crazy. You are driving me crazy." He grips your hair harder without warning and starts to thrusts properly inside you, making sure to squeeze your left breast with his free. The sounds of your wet skin slapping make him curse under his breath.

“You didn’t think what?” You sound out of breath already.

"I cannot fuck you with condoms again." Technically he can, but he doesn’t want to.

You smile widely. “Why is that?”

"Because I am completely fucked."

“You like it that much?”

"Like it?" He puffs, unamused, and starts to finally pound you the way he imagined a few weeks ago. Maybe even harder.

“Oh, fuck!” Yep, he’s right. You are fucked, too.

"You might need to fix me very often, you know?" He drops his hand from your hair just to properly grab your hips. You can barely keep your position like this, his thrusts are so deep.

“Fix you?”

"Yeah. Fix my cock." Oh, that’s what he means.

“We can fix each other then.”

"Ihm." He doesn't say much after this, too focused on kissing your back and keeping the pace at the same time. He's ready to come any minute.

“Harder, Bucky. Please!” You need to come. Really desperately.

"How much harder?" He thrusts a little harder. "More or like this?"

“As hard as you can.”

He doesn't disagree with you, but you know he's holding back even when he pushes harder. And harder. And harder.

"I'm gonna come," he manages to moan. "Fuck I'm gonna come inside you, gonna make a mess. Tell me you… t-tell me you want my come."

“I want your come, Bucky, please. p Please, come with me!” You are already shaking uncontrollably.

"Fuck." That's all you get from him before he's coming, his fingers digging so hard into your skin that you moan again, dizzy from your orgasm.

He keeps moving, making a mess, indeed. It’s already dripping out, you can feel it.

"I came so much." You hear him say suddenly through fogginess.

You smile, resting your head on the bed still, feeling unable to move.

"Not gonna say anything?"

“I died and went to heaven.” You murmur. The orgasm is still running through your veins, making you twitch here and there.

"I've been in heaven for a while."

You finally turn around and look at him. “It was so fucking good.”

"No words." He slowly gets out of you and you notice how happy he is, not taking his eyes off your pussy. "It's gonna start dripping… all over your thighs and sheets. What a nice mark." He even brings a finger to your entrance and pushes back some come.

“Do you have a breeding kink or something?” You smile while asking.

"A breeding kink?"

“Yeah, do you know what it is?”

"Something to do with my come inside you?" He teases. His confusion seems to fade away.

“Yeah, and getting me pregnant.”

He groans, closing his eyes.

“They do that pushing the come back inside thing most of the time.”

"I guess I have a breeding kink." He smiles, accepting it instantly, and finally closes the gap to kiss you. "You might not get rid of me now."

“I knew it!” You point at him with your finger. “I wasn’t gonna get rid of you anyways.”

"Wanna keep me as your boy toy?"

“You wanna be my boy toy?” Your whole face lights up.

"You look quite excited."

“I never had a boy toy before.”

"No?" He shakes his head. "Time to change that. And as your boy toy, I should always make sure you're having a good time." He surprises you by spreading your legs again.

“No, no, no, no. It’s my turn.”

Bucky shakes his head. "Need to get you clean, and then we can do whatever you want, alright?"

“You are really something else.” You sound amazed.

He smirks. "And you're stuck with me. You're all mine now."

You don't get to say anything anymore as you feel his tongue at your entrance. So you just grab his hair, closing your eyes, your exes long forgotten.

“And you are all mine.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #my stories #you're stuck with me #co written with notafunkiller

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

PROVE IT ───

jackson rippner ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “You think you are possessing me / But I've got my teeth in you.” — ‘Unicorn’, Angela Carter

pairing. jackson rippner x reader

summary. after breaking up with your boyfriend. you meet a handsome stranger at a bar. you tell him your cunt’s better than the girl’s your boyfriend cheated on you with; he tells you to prove it.

warnings. swearing, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, porn with some plot, impact play, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 3.6k

a/n. i seriously doubt i wrote jackson’s character accurately in this so please comment anything i can improve on LOL🙏

It’s not often you spill your entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this one, this stranger with his watery blue eyes and plush lips, is oddly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It makes you want to give him everything, and absently, in your alcohol riddled mind, you think he’d make a good scammer. 

Or, serial killer, whichever he prefers really.

But it's not entirely his fault; you’re stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit your system ten-fold. 

You’re there because you’d broken up with your boyfriend the night before. You’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and you let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 

Wrong. He’d been cheating on you since he went to Copenhagen — four months, now — with a pretty little Dane that wanted to marry. 

You were furious when he told you, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but you began seeing all the differences between you and the woman he cheated on you with: she, a perfect homemaker, you, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 

“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” the stranger across from you said softly, breaking you out of your nostalgic stupor and back into reality. “‘cause he’s a right asshole. For cheating on you like that.”

The man had entered the bar hours after you did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the softball game on the bar TV, before you drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant your dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here you were now.  

You peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but you can’t tell if you actually think that, or your foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail you into next week. 

No matter, you thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of your throat sweetly, fire trailing down your insides. “M’not beating myself up,” you protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 

He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as are you.

“Well,” he inched closer, large hand sitting itself on your thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 

This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with you: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from your face, later he swiped a drop of drink off your lip, then he’d clutched you by the waist, pulling you close to him when someone squeezed past you in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in your ear. 

Then, there’s a gap in your memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt you donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in your ear was too much for your dizzy head, and the only thing you remember is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and the next, you’re pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee pushing your quivering legs apart. 

You’re trading wet, messy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up your shirt till they reach your chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching your breasts needily. 

He’s kneading you artfully, fingers pawing at your flesh like he’s never felt something so soft, so plump. Your back arches as he does this; you’re practically putty in his hands. 

It doesn’t slip past you that you’re being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom you don’t know the name of, but you don’t care. “Please,” you beg, his name coming up completely blank on your tongue, “please.”

“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, one of his hands moving from your breasts up to your jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to your neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”

You’re too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so you whine instead of answering, your weak fingers carding through his brown locks. 

“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”

His words make your cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes your core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to your problems all night telling you you’re just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got you all hot and bothered. 

“Please,” you beg again, more desperate than before, “I need you.” 

The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 

He had noticed how your legs clenched around his knee, how your breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how your fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 

You bit your lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed you by the waist and turned you to press your face against the wall. 

One of his arms then draped across your shoulders, pinning you down and arching your back, hard, making your ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, and you could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face. 

He can’t be that big, right? It was just your drunk mind, making him feel bigger than you thought through his shorts. Plus, you hadn’t been fucked in over a month — you were probably just not used to it. 

Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something. 

However, these days, you’ve learned that you don't have the best intuition. First, with your boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 

“Oh, fuck,” you cursed, head straining to look at him behind you. Unconsciously, you shyly closed your legs at the sight of him. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between your legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”

The two of you were flush against each other, and you could feel his hard length resting between your legs. Just that, just him between you, already had you trembling in anticipation. 

“Then fuck me already,” you bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, you were thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, you, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when your boyfriend made his routine visit. You were a loyal girl, alright, and your fingers never went as deep as any cock could.

But the moment for you to reveal your worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.” 

Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of your ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on your cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom. 

Your breath caught in your throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and you flushed. Thank god you were pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to your burning face. 

He’d spanked you, and you fucking moaned. 

“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of your panties. 

“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against you, your folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

He slowly slid in and out against your folds, his cock just barely grazing your clit, and you swore you could have screamed. The way he was teasing you was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous. 

“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing circles on the skin of your hip. 

You let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” you squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked your tight hole. 

“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into you. 

“I came here to…” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground your thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“

Then, the loudest keen you’d ever heard tore out of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into your soaking cunt. 

He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching your knees buckle and your mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on your ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 

“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking you like that. 

But the way he insulted, complemented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had you shuddering; never in your life did you think such dirty words could make you so wet. 

You barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout your body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how your walls squeezed around his cock had you barely coherent, your face taut with pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for you to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into you, and another helpless groan rolled off your tongue. 

“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing you against the wall shifted, now covering your mouth. 

Before you could protest, he slid out, then snapped into you. Immediately, you saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past your lips. 

“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little fuckhole’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast you could barely comprehend the ecstacy you were feeling. 

“Oh my god,” you barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of you relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for your moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into your sweet cunt. 

Then, the both of you heard the bathroom door open, and you froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing you by the waist and planting you on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on your mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from your throat: this new position of you on his lap had his long length pressed right against your cervix.

“Now you really gotta be quiet, honey,” he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. You shut your eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting your mouth. 

“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on your shoulder, laying his head on your back. 

The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips and help you slide up and down on his cock.

Your eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” you said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving  your mouth, but you were completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure you felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on. 

“Shh,” was all you saw him say, as you strained your neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.

Without his hand to muffle your groans, you muffled them yourself, biting down on your tongue. One hand of yours gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep your balance, and your other hand sneakily traveled down to your wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at your clit. 

He noticed this, however, hand gripping at your wrist and pulling you back to pin your arm behind you. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”

You let out a shaky exhale at his words, but you found your cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of your skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did you really get more turned on by what he’d said?

Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside you exited the bathroom entirely, and you belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked you up and pressed you against the wall once more, this time facing him. 

He plunged his big cock into you like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into your hips you swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into you, not even a fucking meteor. 

You, on the other hand, were arching, the pleasure taking your body over completely. Your hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into you. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time. 

Your tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like you were made with his fat length in mind, and it drove you up the fucking wall: the pain in your hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and your orgasm began to spill out from under you. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.

“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Your cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like you were afraid he’d never come back to you. 

You nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of your words. 

He grinned, and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into you. Your toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past your slick folds. 

One of his hands lifted off your hip and trailed across your lower stomach, “Can you feel that, honey? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge. 

Both of you were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and you a feverish mewl. You couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on you from the outside. 

Suddenly, you remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before you dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, under the name Jackson. 

You face grew taut, your orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across your face. “Jackson! Jackson, please,” you moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on your tongue. 

“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged you through your orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. 

It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within your insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout your entire body like you weren’t already being fucked relentlessly. 

“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning into rest his head against your chest. You were weak, sensitively riding out your high, but you knew Jackson wasn’t quite as close. 

His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling your walls against every inch of him. Your head rested beside his own, your eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation. 

Despite your orgasm, your cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both your skirt and his pants. It made you tremble, thinking of you two tiredly exiting the bathroom, disheveled and having to cover the other up. 

At this point, you didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting your mouth, with Jackson’s grunts and groans covering up your whines completely.

“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”

“You do! Jackson does!” You exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of you quicker and more jolted. “Jackson owns this pussy!”

Jackson grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within you. He clenched his jaw, piercing blue eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of your cunt squeezing him for every drop. 

You were so fucking full, and even when Jackson pulled his softening cock out of you — which, was still huge despite its idleness — you felt stuffed to the brim. 

His come dripped down your leg, and he promptly pulled your panties up, patting your worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good honey.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to your neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”

“Told you so.” You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking you to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within your own, clasping tightly. You didn’t really mean round two - though, you wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking you - you actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead you.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through you cheekily, pulling you close to him. 

So, you did go home with him, and in the morning you laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, counting the freckles on his face.

His eyes fluttered open when you shuffled. “Were you watching me?” he said, voice low and sleepy. 

You nodded silently, your hand coming up to pet his skin comfortingly. After a beat passed, you asked the question that was bothering you all morning. “Jackson, you wanted to fuck me first, right?”

He blinked, tense for a moment, before smoothing out his expression. “What?” he opted on saying instead, sounding every bit clueless and entirely convincing.

Not convincing enough for you, however. “Baby, you think I didn’t notice the shots you were calling over and inching toward me? I was drunk, not stupid.”

“Are you saying I took advantage of you?” He said darkly, a side of him otherwise unknown to you ‘till now. 

You raised a judging brow. “No need to be offended. I wanted to see where it was going to go: ‘did the handsome stranger want to fuck me, or did he want to kill me?’.”

He pulled you close to him, his arm snaking around your hips. “So, what are you saying?” he said, pressing a patronizing kiss to your forehead. 

“Hm. Well, I jus’ wanna know if this is a one nightstand.”

“And you don’t care about the - drinks, the “taking advantage” part?”

You let out a laugh. “I was confident, darling; I keep pepper spray and a pocket knife in my purse. Even if you did - which you didn’t - I’d make it out alive.”

Jackson bit his lip, looking up at you. This had meant to be a one night stand, considering the job he had, but you were looking at him so sweetly, so accepting, like you secretly knew what he did for a living and wanted him despite it. 

“Not a one night stand,” he murmured, leaning into your touch. 

You beamed, and, later, when you did find out what he did for a living, you merely cocked your head. Thought about it… outweighed the pros, the cons, (and the fact you were completely right: he was perfect, but also a fucking sociopath), and merely shrugged. 

“Honey, you’ll never do anything to me. Why should I care what you do for a living? Just don’t,” you warned, staring at him like you could and would fucking kill him, “cheat on me.” 

You didn’t have the best intuition. And, as it turned out, a great moral compass, either. 

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #redeye

[javier-pena]

quicksand

Pairing: Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You meet a stranger at a party.

Warnings: smoking | drinking | creepy men | reader gets her butt slapped by a stranger | infidelity | cheating | age gap (reader is in her early to mid 20s, her boyfriend is in his 50s, I’m putting Pedro’s character in Materialists in his late 40s) | emotional neglect (boarding on emotional abuse) | reader has long-ish hair that can get wet without it being an issue | a little bit of self-loathing | possessiveness (the good kind and the bad kind | hands hands hands hands hands | oral (f receiving) | a little bit of praise kink | voyeurism | mirror sex | (unprotected) p in v sex | rough sex | multiple orgasms | overstimulation | a tiny tiny bit of degradation | oral fixation (🫣) | choking | dirty talk | creampie | cum eating

Notes: Last week I saw these behind the scenes shots of Pedro in Materialists and somehow I had to write 8,000 words about that? I'm also not quite sure what happened, it was supposed to be like 3k max. There was also this ask Han @swiftispunk received that I couldn't get out of my head. The title is inspired by Ms Swift's song Treacherous (And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands / And I'd be smart to walk away / But you're quicksand), the rest is inspired by going completely feral whenever new pictures dropped. Tremendous thanks to Dani @alexturner who just beta'd a long-ass fic last week and then this fic this week - you're being way too good to me with indulging all thoughts I have that I have to turn into short stories 🫣 My dear, sweet anon who kept sending me encouraging asks, this is for you!!

***

There’s laughter coming from downstairs, deep, rumbling laughter impossible to ignore. Your whole body seems to shake with it, your heart stutters in your chest angrily, and you press your hands over your ears. But the loud voices are still there, mocking you with their indifference to your pain. You bury your face in your cool satin pillow and sob into it, ruining the expensive fabric. You don’t fucking care.

All your friends warned you this would happen and you hate how they were right. “You’re nothing but a toy to him.” Shut up, Marissa, you’re just jealous. “Maybe you should look for a boyfriend who’s closer to you in age.” Maybe you should look for a boyfriend, period. “You’re only a fuckmaid to him, do you realize that?” That was the point you stopped listening to them and, at the same time, it was the point you should have started listening.

You are nothing but a toy to him. You should have looked for someone closer to you in age. You are … no, you can’t bring yourself to even think the word, because the truth hurts too much. The truth and your blindness and your stupidity and the fact that you’re throwing your life away for a man who breaks every promise he makes and who treats you like a pet. A beautiful, expensive pet that can be ignored whenever it’s convenient.

“Come with me to the Keys,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hotter than his steadily cooling release sticking to your thighs.

“What?” you asked, heart clenching painfully. When was the last time he cared enough to make you come? Months ago?

“Come with me to the Keys,” he repeated. “The change of scenery will be good for us. I’ll show you around. We can go deep sea fishing. I’ll buy you some dresses and bathing suits. Just take my card tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair away from your neck, kissed the skin there, cupped one of your breasts, squeezed it hard. “Piers,” you warned, tried to get away from him. But there was nowhere to go.

The truth is you had been looking forward to his trip. Had been looking forward to having the apartment to yourself for a while. It’s not like you would’ve done anything in particular except just breathe for once.

“Don’t be like that,” he mumbled against your neck, squeezed your breast again. “Don’t you want to sip on a nice cocktail? Wear a risqué outfit for me?”

No, you didn’t want that. But if you didn’t say yes soon, he’d get angry. “Okay,” you gave in. “But you have to promise me that you’ll spend one day with me. No business.”

What’s easily promised is easily broken.

Today is supposed to be your day. And for once in your life, you thought it would be. Piers took you out for breakfast, right by the water. You watched the sunshine dance across the waves. Then he showed you around town, took you to his favorite spots in Key West, even held your hand. And you thought, This is it. I’m finally worthy of him. Then came the call, followed by those emails, and suddenly Piers was like, “Sorry, babe, I have to meet them, they’re important business partners. Why don’t you go to the beach club, buy yourself a nice massage? Here’s my card.”

Here's my card. You’ve never hated three words more.

What you didn’t expect was to come home to a party. At least twenty men were milling around the house Piers liked to refer to as his “Key West Residence”, a late 19th century villa. Twenty loud men, rich like Piers, most of them his age, leering at you as you stepped through the front door, mistaking you for tonight’s entertainment.

“Babe!” Piers boomed, spilling half his drink while opening his arms as if he meant to hug you. The glances didn’t stop. “Go upstairs, freshen up, put on something nice, and then let me show you off.”

You managed to complete the first step before breaking down on your bed. You’ve been sobbing ever since.

Something breaks downstairs and some of the men roar. You bury your face deeper against the pillow, terrified to go back downstairs, terrified to stay up here. Whatever you do, it will be the wrong thing. You close your eyes and think about what it would be like if the men downstairs vanished. If you had the house to yourself, sharing it with a person you loved and who loved you in return. You could be having dinner on the patio now. Before that, you might go for a swim in the pool, knowing the only eyes on you were your partner’s, the only glances you received were welcome.

You sit up straight. You might hate it when Piers’ business partners look at you like you’re a piece of meat, but Piers hates it too if they don’t do it without being invited. Twenty men imagining all the vile ways in which they could fuck you is the last thing you want right now, but it’s also the last thing Piers wants.

You stumble into the bathroom and wash your face with ice cold water, willing the puffiness of your eyes to recede. You put on your most expensive makeup, the kind that only comes off with intensive scrubbing, then you pick your most revealing bikini and put it on. If those men stared at you like that in a long sundress, their heads will probably explode if they see you like this.

Chin held high, beach towel thrown over your shoulder, you make your way downstairs on high heels the same shade of black as your bikini. You feel utterly stupid, like you’re giving them exactly what they want, but the flush that spreads across Piers’ cheeks when he sees you is worth it. There are some whistles, a few crude comments, one man slaps your ass, but you make it to the pool. None of them are brave enough to follow you outside.

The water is cool against your skin, doing its best to extinguish the fire that burns within you. The flames don’t die down completely but they’re certainly soothed. You start to swim, one length, then three, and soon the party resumes and the men pick up their conversations again. This almost feels normal; this almost feels like a life you could enjoy. Except that you’re alone. And not in a way you crave.

You stop swimming and start drifting on your back, watching the sky above turn from a gentle blue into a soft pink, a bright orange, a deep purple. Soon, the sun will go down and the party will pick up speed. You should go, put on a dress, let Piers show you off, vanish before they’ve had too much alcohol.

You climb out of the pool, squeeze water out of your hair, wrap the towel around yourself. No one is paying attention to you now, so you pick up your heels to carry them back upstairs. There’s no way you’ll make it back to your room without one or two unwanted glances, without the odd rude comment, but you can live with that. You step onto the patio, eyes firmly fixed on your destination, then start walking through the gathering, careful not to look at anyone, careful not to be seen.

Someone sees you though. It’s not Piers, and it also isn’t one of the men who look at you and lick their lips. It’s someone watching you from the shadows, someone on one of the chairs in the parlor. Keep your eyes on the stairs, you tell yourself. Nothing good can come from this. While you were in the pool, Piers must have turned on the music, old jazz songs he always plays when he wants to appear sophisticated. The tinny sounds of saxophones make your ears ring, irritating you more than the heavy smell of cigar smoke that seems to be seeping into every corner of the house. You feel horrible between all those men dressed in their suits, even with the towel covering most of your skin. And you wish that one man would stop watching you because it makes you feel hunted, makes your body beg to run and hide.

At the foot of the stairs you pause, your heart in your throat. A man brushes past you, pretending like there is only so little room he has to press his palm against the small of your back. You turn around looking for Piers, ready to pretend you have a horrific migraine and won’t be joining him after all, when your eyes land on the man who is making the hair at the back of your neck stand with his unrelenting gaze.

You can’t see him properly because he’s half hidden behind the door to the parlor, a room that’s devoid of proper lighting and full of cigar smoke. But you see his dark eyes on you, feel them look right through you, see you for who you are, while he laughs at something the man next to him is saying. You crane your neck to get a better look at him but two other men walk past, obscuring your view. When they spot you and start to make their way toward you, you bolt up the stairs. At least no one will dare to follow you up here.

*******

“There she is!” Piers announces later, opening his arms wide again. He doesn’t spill his drink this time. You step into his embrace and let him kiss your cheek. “Took you long enough, doll.” You hate it when he calls you that, but you keep on smiling. Then he leans closer and whispers, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. Letting another man touch you! What’s wrong with you?”

So it did bother him after all. It should make you feel proud, but it only makes you feel empty. “I’m sorry,” you whisper back and kiss him. Someone at the back of the room whistles.

“Just try to behave for the rest of the night,” he says coldly, then smiles at you and asks in his loud business voice, “Isn’t she lovely?”

Some of the men nod but none dare to look at you directly. Not when Piers has his arm slung around your shoulder anyway.

“How about a drink?” he asks you and when you nod, he takes your hand and leads you toward the bar at the back of the parlor. You follow him, shivering slightly from the evening breeze blowing in through the open French doors. The smoke in the room makes your eyes sting.

With practiced ease, Piers fills a sparkling glass with vodka and soda, adding a bit of lime juice. You try to ignore the man who is standing a little bit too close to you, whose eyes hang a little bit too low.

“Here you are.” Piers hands you the glass. “I have something to discuss with those gentlemen over there,” he nods at two men standing by the door to his study, “but I shouldn’t be too long. Try not to cause too much of a scene while I’m gone.”

You close your fingers around the glass and nod. All you want to do is run.

As soon as he’s gone, they start to close in on you. It’s what Piers wants. He wants others to desire what belongs to him – his apartment, his car, his life. You’re part of all of that. He wants these men to desire you, to think they can have you. You should have listened to your friends, to Marissa and Annie and all the others. If you had, you might hate yourself less.

You know they all want to talk to you and they won’t take no for an answer, so you start to make your way toward the open French doors to escape into the garden. If you stand right at the edge, you can hear the waves whisper and feel the ocean breeze on your face. And if you keep still long enough, they might forget about you.

You don’t even make it out the door before your eyes start to wander from the lush green bushes and trees outside and land on a man sitting in a leather armchair close to the open doors. You don’t know if it’s the same one whose gaze you felt on you earlier, but there’s something about him that makes it hard for you to look away. He’s in the middle of a conversation, one leg comfortably slung across the other, ankle resting against thigh. One of his hands is spread on his knee, his fingers stroking and tapping the expensive fabric of his back dress pants in a nervous tick. His other hand is wrapped around a glass full of amber liquid that he takes a swig from right as you walk past, pretending not to notice how the muscles in his neck work as he swallows, pretending not to notice the gold ring on his little finger that clinks against the glass as he lowers it again.

Your own drink untouched, you stand on the patio, off to the side where you hope no one will notice you but where you can look at that stranger from time to time. You don’t think you’ve seen him before, but you don’t usually pay a lot of attention to Piers’ associates. None of the men here this evening look familiar. Still, there is something about the way this man runs his fingers through his dark curls from time to time, the way he tries to smooth the wrinkles in his white shirt, the way he takes a drag from a big, dark brown cigar once in a while that makes it impossible for you to look away. Until another man demands your attention.

“Hi there,” he says, his laugh showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I’m Hutton.”

You think about saying, “And I’m not interested,” but to Piers that would probably count as causing a scene. And Hutton looks like he’s one of the younger men here, probably in his late 30s. There are worse guys to talk to. “Hi,” you reply with a sweet smile.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” He steps closer to you, encouraged by your smile.

“Yes,” you reply. “So how do you know Piers?”

If he’s annoyed by you bringing up your boyfriend right away, he doesn’t let it show. “We work together,” he answers, which could mean anything in Piers’s world.

“And what brings you to Key West?”

“The scenery,” Hutton answers, not even trying to hide his hungry gaze that glides over your naked shoulders and cleavage.

“I thought it was business,” you say, your smile faltering slightly. “Seeing you’re here.”

“I try not to mix business with pleasure.” Hutton leans against the small sliver of wall between the French doors and the corner of the house. “It’s neither good for business nor pleasure.”

You hum, trying to take a step back. You’re already at the edge of the patio though, and you almost stumble off it, losing your footing.

Hutton grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. “Careful there, pretty girl.”

You try to pull your arm back but he won’t let go. “Thank you,” you say at the same time as he says, “Have you ever thought about exchanging Piers for a younger model?”

It didn’t take him more than a few words exchanged to get to the point.

You yank your arm free but he grabs it again. “Stop it,” you command in your strictest voice but he only grins at you.

“Don’t be like this. I’m only fooling around.”

“Then let go of me.” He doesn’t.

You’re about to throw your drink in his face, even if it means Piers will be angry with you again, when someone steps out onto the patio.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He’s standing right there, one hand in the pocket of his dark pants, the other holding his cigar. Shame washes over you and your palms grow sweaty. You really don’t need this right now. But Hutton immediately lets go of you and turns to face the newcomer.

“We’re good here, thanks,” he says, his jaw clenched.

The stranger takes his time to take a drag on his cigar, lets out the smoke while looking up at the now deep purple evening sky. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks and Hutton lets out a sigh.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” he asks.

The stranger shrugs.

You glance into the parlor, at all the men milling about, wondering if you could make your escape without anyone noticing. But there is something in the way the stranger holds himself that makes you want to stay and find out how this ends. Piers, by now, would have rushed past Hutton, a snarl on his lips, his anger directed at you. The stranger just stands there, his shoulders relaxed, acting as if he doesn’t even particularly care that you and Hutton are out here on the patio as well. It’s a different kind of threat … a different kind of protectiveness.

Hutton turns to you. “Are you coming?”

You shake your head and with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed, “Whatever,” he vanishes into the house, leaving you alone with him.

The silence unbearable, you say, “Thank you.”

He takes another drag on his cigar, then comes closer to you. You ignore how your heart flutters at his approach. He reaches for your hand and for a wild moment you think he’s going to grab your arm too, but he only takes the drink from your hand, sniffs the contents of the glass, then dumps it over the edge of the patio. “Let’s get you a proper drink,” he says.

You’re too stunned to do much more than follow him back into the house and toward the bar. Around you, the volume has risen since you stepped out onto the patio, but you don’t care as much as you did before. It’s hard to care about anything when your stomach is in a tight knot and when you feel like the world around you has gone completely quiet.

The man steps behind the bar, gently places his cigar in an ashtray, then regards the collection of bottles before him with his hands on his hips. “You don’t look like a vodka girl to me,” he mumbles, and you feel your face grow hot. You don’t know why. “Here.” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vermouth. You only now notice how big his hands are, and your mind immediately starts to replay the evening. His hand on his knee, his hand around his glass, his hand … You shake your head, but the shiny gold ring on his little finger glitters enticingly as he unscrews the bottle of vermouth to smell the alcohol within. It’s like you’re a magpie, enchanted by everything that glitters.

“Sweet enough,” he concludes, pouring a little vermouth and a lot of whiskey into a martini glass. Then he goes through all the bottles once more until he finds one of lavender bitter and adds it to the mix.

“What is that?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m not done yet.” There’s a small jar of cocktail cherries he unscrews. With skilled movements, he skewers two of them onto a silver cocktail stick before handing you the glass. The mix inside is orange on top, a reddish purple deeper below. It looks like the sunset you watched earlier.

“What is it?” you ask again.

“Taste it,” he tells you, an eager glint in his eyes.

You take a careful sip and widen your eyes in surprise at the strong yet sweet taste. “Oh, this is really good!”

“It’s sweet, like you,” he says, then seems to change his mind, adopting a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “It’s a Manhattan. That’s where you belong, not in this tourist trash kind of town.”

That makes you laugh. “Hey, I like it here.”

The bar is still between you but he leans on it to get closer to you. “I bet you would also like Manhattan if I showed you around.”

“I’m from Manhattan,” you tell him. “I live there, actually.”

“I do too,” he responds. “Funny how we should run into each other here, of all places.”

You inhale shakily. You don’t know why. “If you hate it here so much, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at you, and you’re sure your heart stops. “I heard you talk to that other guy. I’m not here to have a conversation like that with you.”

You take another sip from your cocktail even though it makes your head spin. “What are you here for then?”

“That’s just another way of asking me what I’m doing here, angel eyes,” he points out. He does it so smoothly you almost don’t notice the diminutive.

You straighten your back, only now realizing you were leaning on the bar close to him. He mirrors you, then walks around the wood between you so he can stand directly next to you. “You tell me what you want to talk about then. After all, you approached me, you made me a drink, you wanted to whisk me off to Manhattan.”

“That was before I realized how worldly you are,” he says and his smile turns sly.

“Oh?” you make. You swallow. “Am I too difficult for you then?”

“I like a challenge.”

This is where you should stop. This is where you should thank him again for rescuing you, and for the drink, and where you should walk away to find your boyfriend, who surely has to be done with his meeting by now. But how can you step away when he’s still smiling at you as if he’s having the time of his life, when you felt drawn to him all evening, when having his eyes on you makes you feel truly seen? Yes, he isn’t exactly subtle in the way he flirts with you, but there is a kindness in his gaze you’ve never seen on another man before. And then he touches you, straightening the strap of your short, tight dress, and your whole body comes alive.

“You know smoking is bad for you, right?” is the only thing you can come up with, willing your voice to remain steady.

“I like things that are bad for me,” he replies.

It’s such a cheesy line, it makes you want to bury your face in your hands. But, god, does talking to him make you feel good.

“Ha!” He points at you. “That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all evening.

“Call me ‘sweet’ again and you might see some more,” you retort. All you want to do is to tell him you don’t mind his harmless flirting, that whatever this is between you is fun, but it comes out heavy with implications. Implications you can’t take back because you don’t want to.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and you think you might die. “You’re very brave.” It’s a statement. “I saw you walk to the pool earlier in –”

“I know,” you interrupt him. “I saw you watching me.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. “It made me want to kiss you.”

You freeze. There is nothing you can say that won’t end badly for you. “So you made me a drink instead?”

He plucks the cocktail stick out of your glass and holds it up to your mouth. You close your lips around the first cocktail cherry and pull it off slowly, your eyes fixed to his. It might just be the low lighting but you think his pupils dilate. He drops the stick back into the glass and takes a big swig of your drink, his eyes momentarily leaving yours. You do your best not to watch his throat as he swallows.

“You really are something,” he concludes, putting down the glass on the bar.

You feel lightheaded, as if you’d just made out with him for half an hour. “I’m also in a relationship.” The words are out before you can stop yourself. You didn’t mean to say them.

“I don’t give a damn.”

You giggle, actually giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “You sound like the hero in one of those ancient black-and-white movies.”

“Or maybe I’m the villain.”

This time you do bury your face in your hands. “Oh, stop it.”

“No,” he simply says, and you get it. You want to kiss him too.

Instead, you glance at the small gold wrist watch on your arm. “It’s late. I should –”

He interrupts you. “Don’t –,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Thank you for the drink. And thank you for making me laugh. You made this whole thing bearable.”

You don’t know if you should shake his hand or kiss his cheek so you don’t do any of it. You pat his arm, once, trying not to notice how it feels against your palm, then walk toward the stairs, your heart breaking with each step. If you were single, you wouldn’t have hesitated to sleep with this man. If you weren’t Piers’ girlfriend, he would never have looked your way. It’s better to end it here.

The quietness of your room engulfs you, just like the soothing coolness of the pool earlier. As soon as you close the door behind you and lean against it, you can breathe. Yes, you can still hear the sounds of the party, but they’re muffled. You can finally hear yourself think again and you exhale shakily. You almost made the biggest mistake of your life. The adrenaline rush you got from it makes you snicker.

Piers isn’t entirely faithful. He attends parties with strippers, he looks at other women, you know all that. But it doesn’t mean anything because at the end of the day he comes home to you. What you just did … it goes beyond everything Piers has ever done, and you wouldn’t have been able to look at yourself in the mirror if you had spent one more minute in the presence of that handsome stranger. Even if your flirting made you happier than Piers has in months.

There’s a knock at your door and you jump. Expecting Piers, you open it without a second thought. “I’ll be right …,” you start but forget every word in the English language when you come face to face with the stranger.

“Hello,” he says, and that handsome smile is back on his face, even if he keeps a careful distance. “You vanished so quickly it made me wonder … did I do something wrong?”

“What?” you ask because it’s the only word you can remember.

“I’ll go back downstairs if you don’t want me here,” he goes on, “just say the word.”

They never come up the stairs. Never. Who does he think he is? “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just tired.” You try to close the door in his face, but he steps closer, bracing a hand against the wooden doorframe. “Excuse me,” you say insistently.

“Can I come in?”

Into your room? “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” you reject him. You laugh, but it sounds insincere. “You should go back downstairs.”

“Alright,” he agrees, “but you have to say it like you mean it.”

“Listen here,” you start in your best no-nonsense voice. He tightens his grip on the wood and you hear it creak, despite the noise downstairs. “I want you to …”

It’s no use. You don’t know who he is, you don’t even know his name, but you also know that if you don’t let yourself have this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

“You need to say the words, sweet –”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You both freeze. His mouth hangs open, still in the middle of forming the next word he wanted to say. You tense, well aware that you said something you can not take back.

The few seconds that pass feel like an eternity. Then he pushes himself past the doorframe into your room, into your personal space. You smell the heavy scent of cigar smoke on him, you smell leather and lavender and citrus. You see his smile that turns into something more determined the closer he gets to you. You notice the stubble on his cheek, the glint in his eyes, the small dark spot on the collar of his white shirt. You feel … you feel his body pressing against yours, his hand pressing against the small of your back, his breath on your face, and then everything is reduced to his lips on yours, your breaths mingling, his … his tongue coaxing you open, not gently but insistent, and you not hesitating to open yourself up for him.

It's as if you’re watching it all from above, you pushing him backward, him closing the door with a hard slam, the both of you pulling at each other while kissing and kissing and …

“Careful,” he chuckles when you bite down on his bottom lip. “You said kiss, not –”

“I don’t give a fuck what I said,” you interrupt him, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says and grabs your wrist.

You groan. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “I’m not. You’re just … We’re doing this on my terms or not at all.”

Something throbs deep within your core.

He tightens his hold on you. “I’ve had all evening to think about this. To picture all the things I want to do to you.”

“It’s not going to be just kissing then?” you ask, relishing the chuckle you draw out of him.

“I knew I wouldn’t leave here tonight without feeling your pretty little cunt clench around me.”

It sounds like a line straight out of a porn movie. You should laugh, tell him to take you seriously. But all you can do is whimper at the thought of him sitting in his chair downstairs, talking to one of Piers’ associates or even Piers himself while thinking about being buried deep inside of you. Every other man would send you fleeing. Not him though.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Does it matter? Once I’m done with you, you’ll have forgotten your own name.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Those are some big words,” you point out.

He lets go of your wrist, then bunches the fabric of your dress up in his hand until he can reach below the hem, his broad, warm hand landing on your naked skin, his ring digging into your soft flesh. You gasp.

“Do you really think I’d disappoint you?”

“No,” you say too quickly, too rashly.

He grabs your dress again. “How about you take this off for me?”

“No,” you repeat, biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh at the look of shock on his face. Then you turn around. “I can’t really open the zipper without some assistance.”

He runs both his hands over your naked shoulders and down to the middle of your back. You expect him to take his time, but he yanks the zipper down so quickly you think you hear fabric tear. You almost don’t have enough time to slip out of the thin shoulder straps before he falls to his knees behind you, pulling the dress with him. His hands are on your butt cheeks now, massaging, grabbing you as if he’s set on memorizing every detail. He slips his thumb under the hem of your panties, dips the tip into the wetness there.

You gasp at the same time as he whispers, “Knew it.”

You pull him away from you and turn around, well aware you’re completely naked except for your panties. “Well, it’s hardly surprising,” you start, your voice airy, but then it dies down completely at the sight of him kneeling in front of you looking up at you with so much heat in his gaze you’re getting burned. How did you get here?

You want him to tease you back, but he only pulls you close, his hands clasping your hips insistently, and kisses your belly, right above the hem of your panties. Then he kisses your thighs and your sides, and your belly button, and then he pulls down your panties and buries his face in your wetness with a relieved sigh. Your hands shoot forward and grab his curls, dig into them, desperate for purchase, as your head swims from the overstimulation. You would like to focus on the feeling of his hair between your fingers. You would like to focus on his tongue swirling around your clit. You would like to focus on the growl he makes when you run your nails over his scalp.

You think you’re laughing. You think you say, “Does that still count as kissing?”

“Yes,” he mumbles against the soft skin of your thighs. His curls are already a mess, his face is flushed, but when he glances up at you, his eyes are bright with determination.

“I think you have to show me that definition of kissing someday,” you go on, glancing up at the ceiling. You can’t look at him directly, it feels too intimate.

“That’s enough talking,” he decides and licks a broad stripe across your drenched folds.

You tighten your grip on his curls in response because your legs start to quiver. You hope he doesn’t notice, but his fingers dig into your thighs to steady you. The edges of his ring are cutting into you almost painfully – you want more of it. His hair wrapped around your fingers you pull him closer into you and he moans against you … actually moans. You push away those thoughts that make you compare him to Piers, how Piers would never moan if he was between your legs, how Piers never eats you out. This isn’t about him – it’s about you.

There’s something in the way that stranger rolls and flicks his tongue that tells you he won’t make you wait for an orgasm. You want to hold on longer because you can’t bear the thought of this being over already, but there is something in the way he devours you that pushes you toward the edge at a rapid speed. You don’t even hear the sounds of the party anymore, the laughter, the music; it’s just him and his deep sighs and moans.

You’re almost embarrassed by how fast you come. One second you’re appreciating the way his tongue flicks your clit, the next you can barely stay upright when your whole body releases months and months of built-up tension. You quiver in his grip and he holds you close, licking and licking until you can’t take it anymore. You think you mumble, “Fuckfuckfuck,” but there is no way to be sure. All you know is that you just had one of the best orgasms of your life.

You laugh as if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. What else is there to do? “So this is doing things on your terms?” you ask.

He sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You think you might explode at that sight. “No, that was for your benefit. The rest is going to be for mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at your bed that’s rumpled from you crying on it earlier. If he can make you feel like that with just his tongue, what will he be –

“No, sugar, not like that,” he tells you, immediately pulling your attention back to him.

Your throat is dry when you ask, “What then?”

He stands and cups your cheek, his hand pleasantly warm. You lean into the touch immediately. “Don’t be so impatient. Enjoy the moment for a while.”

“What moment …?” you start but you don’t get far. He claims your mouth in a searing kiss that makes you wish you had been paying more attention to what he was doing when he was eating you out. You kiss him back, slinging your arms around his neck, the soft fabric of his white shirt rubbing against your naked chest. He licks across your bottom lip until you open your mouth for him, and then he claims you like no one has before. You fear that if you start thinking about how you can taste yourself on him, you’ll go insane.

“You’re so easy to kiss,” he mumbles against your lips. You’re not quite sure how he means it, but your chest still expands at the compliment.

“And you’re very handsome,” you retort lamely.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about telling me all evening?”

“No,” you reply too slowly this time.

He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth right next to your ear. “I’ve been thinking about watching myself fuck you.”

He doesn’t give you time to process, takes you over to the vanity that stands opposite your bed, its mirror dull in the dim light of the room. Even when he places your hands on the table top, telling you to hold on, you still don’t think he’s serious. You look at yourself in the mirror, at the makeup smudges below your eyes, the birth mark on your throat that you hate, how your mouth hangs open in a way that looks so very unsexy. Behind you, that stranger you invited into your room, this man you know nothing about, is unbuttoning his expensive dress pants, his white shirt obscuring the view. What does he see in you that makes him want you like this?

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s holding himself now, but you can’t see his hand moving without turning around. And he didn’t tell you you’re allowed to look. Your palms begin to sweat against the wooden surface of the vanity, at the thought of him telling you what you are and aren’t allowed to do, at him praising you for doing well and punishing you if you don’t. You don’t recognize that side of yourself.

His eyes are open again and he searches for yours in the mirror. “I asked you a question.”

You swallow hard. “No, I don’t,” you say, fighting down a giggle. It’s nerves.

“I’d better show you then,” he concludes, and he pushes inside of you with one hard stroke, filling you faster than you can spread your legs.

You both take a moment to breathe. He adjusts himself, you try to get used to the angle, the feeling of fullness. You haven’t seen his hard cock, but you know he’s more than Piers, so much more the stretch is almost uncomfortable. The wood beneath your fingers starts to swim when your vision blurs and –

“No, none of that.” He grips your chin and lifts your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve also been thinking about you watching me fuck you.”

His hand looks so big holding your face like that, and when you swallow again, he can feel it against his fingers.

His own face is right there next to yours, his eyes firmly fixed to yours through the glass. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you can take it.”

Before you can think of anything to say, he pulls out of you and thrusts back in in a tentative motion that is enough for your eyes to flutter shut in pleasure.

“No, no, no,” he whispers into your ear. “Keep them open.”

You do as you’re told and he rewards you with a sharp bite to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. Your hips thrust back of their own accord, meeting his in a quick snap.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he mumbles against your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were making any, too transfixed by watching him move behind you. Whenever your gaze wavers and flutters to your own face, embarrassment sends adrenaline shooting through your body. But he … watching his shoulders and arms tense and relax beneath his shirt that looks all too tight now, watching him meet your gaze, eyes full of lust … you don’t know why you would fuck anyone any other way than this.

He straightens his back, changing the angle slightly, and now you do hear yourself groan. He grabs your chin tighter and pushes two fingers into your mouth. “You know,” he says, and his hips snap with more force, faster, making the vanity rattle beneath your hands, “if you were mine, I’d let no man touch you. I would’ve broken his arm.”

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what he means; you’re too busy relishing the taste of his skin on your tongue. There must have been a man who touched you … when you were coming down the stairs … You can see it all clearly now. He would grab that man’s arm, calm and collected, twist it, make him shout in surprise … you can almost hear the bones snap.

“Oh, look at that,” he groans, and you do. You look at yourself in the mirror, unashamed, eyes wide. You watch how you eagerly suck and lick his fingers, watch it as if another person was doing it. You’re trembling in his grip … or is he making everything shake with his thrusts that are coming faster and faster now as he fucks you, taking what he needs? “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You almost don’t hear him, too transfixed by how depraved he’s making you feel. “You’d get off on that, a good man protecting you. Shame I’m not good, really.”

You don’t care. You’re done with those men who act politely, who treat you with care when they know Piers is around, but who talk about you taking it up the ass when your back is turned. You’d much rather have this, a man who isn’t scared to say these things to your face. Even if he thinks he isn’t all good, he still protected you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you whimper at the loss, watching how a thread of spit connecting his digits to your lips breaks. With his other hand, he suddenly grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your hard nipple with practiced ease, and you arch your back with a moan, exposing your throat to him. His fingers close around it, hard, restricting the airflow, his ring pressing against one of the most vulnerable spots of your body in a way that doesn’t leave any room for doubt – you’re doing this on his terms.

He tightens his grip on your throat until you start seeing stars, the loosens it. “I’m going to make you come now. I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what you look like coming around my cock.”

If you could, you would nod, but he isn’t looking for your consent. He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger one last time, then lowers his hand to find your clit. When he touches you, you make a sound like never before, one that’s feral and animalistic and can’t possibly be coming from you.

He shushes you, his breath tickling your neck. “You don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You don’t? You have no idea. You can’t form a single coherent thought as he pounds into you, making sure you’ll be able to feel him long after he’s done with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your voice is breathless after that scream, hoarse and raw. Your gaze flickers to his fingers curled tightly around your neck.

“Keep your eyes on yourself, baby girl,” he orders.

Baby girl.

That’s what does it. You watch your eyes widen and your mouth fall open as your body shakes first from his thrusts and then from wave after wave of pleasure. He was right. You love this. You love watching yourself come while he forces you to watch yourself, love to watch your orgasm play out across your face. He’s watching you too, licking his lips hungrily, never faltering. But you can see it in his eyes, the way he’s memorizing every detail of your orgasm.

“Well done,” he says once you’re done and moves your chin so he can kiss your lips.

Then he suddenly pushes you down so your chest connects with the table top. You grunt in surprise, then in pain when he rolls your head to the side so you can still somewhat glimpse his reflection above you.

“My turn,” he growls.

His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his eyes are firmly fixed on his own reflection, and he holds you down with such a strong grip you can’t move, but also in a way that’s so casual it makes you feel like he’s using you. Your heart stutters with longing so intense at that thought that the feeling spreads to the rest of your body and becomes so intense he feels it in his own. At least you think that is what’s going on when he smiles down on you.

The position you’re in and the tenderness between your legs steadily turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable to simply too much. But he doesn’t finish. He keeps going and going, not as fast as before, seemingly transfixed by what you’re doing. You reach back for him and he grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back.

“Please,” you whimper, and it makes his intense gaze falter for just one second.

“Almost there, baby girl,” he replies, “you’re doing so well. Just keep taking it a little while longer.” You think you could bear anything if he just kept talking to you like that.

Then suddenly it’s over. There is one last thrust that pushes you onto the tips of your toes and then he stills. The only movement comes from his hips that are twitching as he empties himself inside of you. You don’t even dare to breathe, watching as his reflection slowly relaxes and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he pulls out of you and you try to stand, but he pushes you back down again. “Stay. We’re not done yet.”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, but your mind is blank, unable to imagine what else he could have in store for you. You don’t feel anything at first, you just hear him moan, and then you realize he’s kneeling behind you, cleaning you up with his tongue, eagerly licking his own release off your skin. It makes you feel so lewd you forget about everything, even Piers. Especially when he doesn’t stop at your thighs but moves further and further up your legs until his tongue and nose are buried in your folds once more and he’s spreading you open with his big hands.

You can’t help it.

“Fuck, fu- I- I’m gonna –”

There’s no time for you to finish the warning before you’re coming a third time, your hips desperately twitching against the vanity. He licks you through it, catching every last drop you’re giving him on his tongue. You can’t tell for sure but you think he’s chuckling and for some reason the shame you feel turns you on even more.

When it’s all over, he peels you off the vanity and pulls you into his arms, brushing your hair out of your face that is sticky with sweat. “You sure are a greedy little thing,” he says before he kisses you tenderly.

You swallow a sob and give him a sigh instead.

“Half the people downstairs probably heard us.” There’s a big grin on his face at that thought.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you repeat your earlier sentiment, surprised to discover that it’s true.

“Someone wants to get caught,” he teases and kisses you again.

“What I want is for you to fuck me like that again.”

“Oh, baby girl.” You almost hate how he’s already figured out what hearing him call you that does to you. “There are a million more things I want to do with you. This was just a taste.”

You’re not sure if you can believe him, but you decide to indulge that fantasy. You put on your sweetest smile. “Can’t wait.”

He lets go of you and walks toward your door. “Why don’t you give me a call once you’re back in Manhattan.”

A red warning light switches on somewhere in your brain. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Something tells me you’ll find out.” And with that, he’s gone.

#materialists fanfiction #materialists #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #is this anything?

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 101

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY of Monday of Appreciation!

My first MoA post was posted on the 20th of September 2021, two years. Time really flies, huh? I don't want this to be just another MoA 100 post, but I really gotta thank you all, especially because Part 100 received so much love, God, it made me so happy <3 It was a kinda cathartic moment, the series had an epic peak... all thanks to you.

I definitely also want to thank all the writers, without whom this all wouldn't exist. My way of thanking you all is by... featuring a FUCKTON of stories below. Even if you are not featured (first of all, I'm sorry lol), I still appreciate your work and comradery in the bunker. Y'all are amazing <3

LET'S GET TO IT!!!

No. 1: @dnd-writes: Way of Water ft. Eunbi

Ah yes, Waterbomb Eunbi. The event that captured us all. The idea with the backup dancer is straight forward, nice, but the greatest thing about this is the watersports. Waterbomb, watersports... you get it? Just read it.

No.2: @leafostuff: No Names Needed ft. Sheon (Billlie)

Thanks to Leafo for spreading the good word of Sheon and her... goddamn midriff. No more reasons needed, appreciate this girl already, ugh.

No. 3: @iznsfw: The Devil's Telephone ft. Yujin

Everything IZ touches skips the part where it turns to gold. Fuck gold, IZ just creates diamondtic-masterpieces. I was thrilled to learn about this fic and when I read it... IZ did it again! This portrayal of Yujin is everything. What are we to your might!

No. 4: @idyllicidols: Cheat Day ft. Wonyoung

Wonyoung gangbang with her fans? I bet you all are already foaming at your mouth. Go on. Read it. Leave some love for this talented writer after getting your loads off the screen.

No. 5: @rvp32: Whisper of Uncontrollable Desire ft. Chaewon

Let me tell you, rvp is great! They don't hold back, they go all out, they try A/B/O, they like futa (please write futa!) and they have a Gaeul series. This one fucking sent me <3

No. 6: @existslikepristin: Not Summer Yet ft. Jeongyeon

Thx ELP for the nice message on Part 100! Thanks also for giving us these crazy pieces again and again (well, this one isn't too crazy for your standards, but you get me). This felt really intimate, liked it!

No. 7: @dreamcatchers-husband: The City of Love and Secrets ft. Sejeong

You better learn French for this fic. But fr, now I wanna go to Paris and marry a beautiful girl before :floshed: filling her up because she truly is mine now ahhhhh

No. 8: @capslocked: SERENDIPITY ft. Eunbi

Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, what am I gonna do with you? Your fics are ALWAYS in my to read list and when I get to them... yeah, takes more than one attempt... more like five. Fuck you, I love you.

No. 9: @ggidolsmuts: Sin, Hormones and the Starlet's Boyfriend ft. Yunjin, Somi

HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK, that was so FUCKING hot, I caaaaan't stop meeeeee, this is so good, I need more of this. Yeah, basically every ddeun fic makes me go like this. What a fucking legend, man.

No. 10: @smuttysabina: A Pervert Bred by Perverts only Breeds more Perverts ft. E:U (Everglow)

As you can see, the title is quite elaborate on what happens in this fic. A bunch of perverts, a lot (and I do mean a LOT) of cum to breed and in the end everyone is happy. You too, you filthy pervert?

No. 11: @writingsomesin-amber: Puppies' New Toy Part 3 ft. LSFM, Xiaoting

FUTA, the best kind of futa. The one with Alphas, with Kazuha (who always has a HUGE cock), with boundless sex that's just horny nonsense. This is what I want to read. Thank you for writing it!

No. 12: @co-reborn: [PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4 ft. Jiheon

This is a sequel to probably the best porn focused smut to ever exist. Thank you, c.o, for creating this, for making it a universe and for dropping another Jiheon smut. She hot, you hot <3

No. 13: @pfxhk: Staircase: Prepotent Pleasure ft. Yuqi

Kaaajin <3 finally another Yuqi fic and a very good one at that. I want her hot lips wrapped around me too now.

No. 14: @rosiesmuts: After Dark ft. Rose

Rose little fuck doll. Her pics lately have been mind-fucking or sth like that, I dunno, just sex. Oh, and I know a lot of good things happen late at night.

No. 15: @akkaweo-akkaweo: Treatment ft. Jinsoul

That's the treatment wr allll want from our dear Jinsoul. Her gorgeous visuals have really stunned me since she joined Modhaus. Now paint that pretty face.

No. 16: @mode-lfy: Jinni (SMUT) ft. Jinni (ex-NMIXX)

Sooooo... when does Jinni unzip my pants, first thing in the morning finally come back?

Edit: SHE ACTUALLY IS?!?! LFG!

No. 17: @worldsover: link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon

This one is the follow-up to c.o's [PVV], so we got a whole-ass universe with pornstar!Jiheon now. What a blessing, and it leaves us with no doubt that Jihron would reach that 0.1% if she'd show her cute face and bubble butt on cam... when tho???

No. 18: @allthekingssmut: She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere ft. Heejin

Star Wars is already a win in my book, pair it with hotness everywhere (the sun, a mechanic, her face) and it only gets better and better. The release to all the fucking tension between those two is EPIC. Great fic!

No. 19: @writerpeach: Overindulgent ft. Wonyoung

To say I have over-indluged in this fic would be a massive understatement. When Peach let's loose and pours out tens of thousands of words of unpure smut, we know we got ourselves a massive hit, no matter the idol. To make it even better, Wonyoung.

No. 20: @okaylikesmomo: Kampfyre Part 1 - Vocals ft. Winter

Just one word: vocal training. Wait, that is two words! So Imma a need okay to write a second part to this, because Winter has not been trained enough (imo).

No. 21: @pupyuj: Magic Words ft. Wonyoung (fem!reader)

More love to female reader fics! Especially thise one, with this sweet and spicy Wony that makes girls' legs weak and mine too xD Thank you for this great story and hot smut!

No. 22: @usedpidemo: Parasailing ft. Yuri, Minju

This story feels so nostalgic, so oddly familiar. Like I was there throughout it all and feel entitled to the release at the end. This fic has me gliding, high on their two perfect bodies.

No. 23: @summersault31: Concerto Pt. 1 ft. IU

Blowjobs under the table while tempting another woman into your sinful lifestyle... this combines a clichee with a hook that has you begging: Summer, where is Part 2?

No. 24: @midnightdancingsol: I swear, the Bear Poked Me! ft. futa!Minji x Danielle

Now for the futa appreciation. I think Sol is perfect for this, especially because the mere thought of Minji fucking Dani with her... HUGE COCK... so big and... were was I? Oh yeah, Hanni is also in this.

No. 25: @maemisnippets: You're Mine, Cheeks ft. Chaehyun (fluff)

In between 29 smuts, there is this one short fluff by our dear Maems. Well deserved, I must say. Keep it up, qt, always fun bits to read.

No. 26: @mintwithchoco: [CYMX-461] ft. Choerry, Jinsoul

Monopoly can be so much fun, if you are willing to strike some questionable deals to further your chances of winning and everyone's chances to have a good time. Bathtub sex?

No. 27: @nichuuu: Where our blue is ft. Rei

A beautiful story, it truly made me fall in love with Rei, her strive and determination, her failure, her rise---and the insane, drawn-out fucking at the end. Where our blue is has it all and I have to congratulate @nichuuu: In between all these great writers, this story really stuck out to me!

No. 28: @svndaysaweek: Niche ft. Hanni

Cute little Hanni in need of her step-brother, because she is so deeply in love with him... this was so adorable and sweet at the start and then went into an excessive smut part that fried my brain.

No. 29: @sinswithpleasure: You Can Watch, But You Can't Touch [At Least, Not Yet] ft. Mina, Sana, Momo

I. Would. Not. Last. There is no shame in me saying this, but I just couldn't, with these three hotties right in front of me. Blast it all over their bodies, hng.

No. 30: @xiakato: Ella Baila Sola ft. Xiaoting

Hm, maybe Xiaoting should dance alone, I'm not really good at it though my Just Dance scores would beg to differ.

Hey, if you read all of that, you're fucking awesome. I appreciate you, and hope, you have a great week ahead. Until the next MoA, goodbye!

#mondayofappreciation #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert

[trumanbluee]

an encounter - matty healy

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

content; you meet a stranger in the bar after your breakup ;)

word count: 3271

warnings: somewhat dubious consent (reader is intoxicated), unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!) dom/sub undertones, degradation, teasing. lmk if i missed anything! <3

a/n: hi !!! this is the first fic i'm ever posting!! eek! i dont know how many people are going to see this but please tell me if you like it!!!

It’s not often she spilt her entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this stranger, with his head of ringlets upon ringlets of messy, dark curls, plush light-pink lips, and deep, chocolate brown eyes, was particularly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It made her want to give him everything, and absentmindedly, in her alcohol-riddled mind, she’d thought he would be a good scammer, or serial killer, whichever he prefers really. 

But it's not entirely his fault; she’s stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit her system ten-fold. 

She’s there because she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night before. They’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and she let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 

Wrong. He’d been cheating on her since he went to Australia — four months, now — with a pretty little Sheila that he wanted to marry.

She was furious when he told her, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but she began seeing all the differences between her and the woman he cheated on her with: she, a perfect homemaker, her, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 

“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” The soft english voice of the man across the bar cut through the buzz of her hazy, drunken brain, bringing her back to reality. “Cause he’s a right dickhead. For cheating on you like that.”

The man had entered the bar hours after she did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the soccer game on the TV above the bar, before she’d drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant her dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here she was now.  

She peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but she can’t tell if she actually thinks that, or her foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail her into next week. 

No matter, she thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of her throat sweetly, fire trailing down her insides. “M’not beating myself up,” she protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 

He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as is she.

“Well,” he inched closer, large hand setting itself on her thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 

This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with her: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from her face, later he swiped a drop of her Sex On The Beach off her lip, then he’d clutched her by the waist, pulling her close to him when someone squeezed past her in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in her ear. 

Then, there’s a gap in her memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt she’d donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in her ear was too much for her dizzy head, and the only thing she remembers is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and the next, she’s pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee knocking her quivering legs apart. 

They’re trading wet, sloppy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up her shirt till they reach her chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching her breasts needily.

He’s kneading her softly, fingers pawing at her flesh like he’d never felt something so soft, so plump. Her back arches as he does this; she’s practically putty in his hands. 

It doesn’t slip past her that she’s being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom she doesn’t know the name of, but she doesn't care. “Please,” she begs, his name coming up completely blank on her tongue, “please.”

“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, hot breath against her ear as one of his hands moves from her breasts up to her jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to her neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”

She’s too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so she whines instead of answering, her weak fingers carding through his dark curls. 

“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”

His words make her cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes her core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to her problems all night telling her she’s just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got her all hot and bothered. 

“Please,” she begs again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”

The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 

He had noticed how her legs clenched around his knee, how her breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how her fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 

She bit her lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed her by the waist and turned her to press her face against the wall. 

One of his arms then draped across her shoulders, pinning her down and arching her back, hard, making her ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. She let out a small gasp at the feeling, and she could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face

He can’t be that big, right? It was just her drunk mind, making him feel bigger than she thought through his shorts. Plus, she hadn’t been fucked in over a month — she was probably just not used to it. . 

Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.

 However, these days, she’d learned that she didn't have the best intuition. First, with her boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, head straining to look at him behind her. Unconsciously, she shyly closed her legs at the sight of him. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between her legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”

Completely flush against each other, she could feel his hard length resting between her legs. Just that, just him between her, already had her trembling in anticipation.

“Then fuck me already,” she bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, she was thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, her, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when her boyfriend made his routine visit. She was a loyal girl, alright, and her fingers never went as deep as any cock could.

But the moment for her to reveal her worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”

Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of her ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on her cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.

Her breath caught in her throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and she flushed. Thank god she was pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to her burning face.

He’d spanked her, and she’d fucking moaned.

“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of her panties.

“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against her, her folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

He slowly slid in and out against her folds, his cock just barely grazing her clit, and she swore she could have screamed. The way he was teasing her was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.

“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing light circles on the skin of her hip.

She let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” she squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked her tight hole.

“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into her.

“I came here to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground her thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“

Then, the loudest keen she’d ever heard tore out of her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into her soaking cunt.

He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching her knees buckle and mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on her ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 

“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking her like that.

But the way he insulted, complimented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had her shuddering; never in her life did she think such dirty words could make her so wet.

She barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout her body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how her walls squeezed around his cock had her barely coherent, face taut with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for her to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into her, and another helpless groan rolled off her tongue.

“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing her against the wall shifted, now covering her mouth.

Before she could protest, he slid out, then snapped into her. Immediately, she saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past her lips.

“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little pussy’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast she could barely comprehend the ecstasy she was feeling.

“Oh my god,” she barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of her relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for her moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into her sweet cunt.

Then, the two heard the bathroom door open, and she froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and planting her on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on her mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from her throat: this new position of her on his lap had his long length pressed right against her cervix.

“Now you really gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered, pressing his face into her neck. She shut her eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting her mouth.

“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on her shoulder, laying his head on her back.

The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into her, his large hands coming to rest on her hips and help her slide up and down on his cock.

Her eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” she said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving her mouth, but she was completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure she felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.

“Shh,” was all she saw him say, as she strained her neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.

Without his hand to muffle her groans, she muffled them herself, biting down on her tongue. One hand of hers gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep her balance, and her other hand sneakily travelled down to her wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at her clit.

He noticed this, however, hand gripping at her wrist and pulling her back to pin her arm behind her. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”

She let out a shaky exhale at his words, but she found her cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of her skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did she really get more turned on by what he’d said?

Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside the one the two of them occupied, exited the bathroom entirely, and she belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked her up and pressed her against the wall once more, this time facing him.

He plunged his big cock into her like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into her hips she swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into her, not even a fucking meteor. 

She, on the other hand, was arching, the pleasure taking her body over completely. Her hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into her. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.

Her tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like she was made with his fat length in mind, and it drove her up the fucking wall: the pain in her hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and her orgasm began to spill out from under her. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.

“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Her cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like she was afraid he’d never come back to her.

She nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of  words.

He grinned, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into her. Her toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past her slick folds.

One of his hands lifted off her hip and trailed across her lower stomach, “Can you feel that, baby? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.

Both were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and her a feverish mewl. She couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on her from the outside.

Suddenly, she remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before she had dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put her drinks on his tab, under the name Matty.

Her face grew taut, her orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across her face. “Matty! Matty, please,” she moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on her tongue.

“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged her through her orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of her throbbing core. 

It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within her insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout her entire body like she wasn’t already being fucked relentlessly.

“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against her chest. She was weak, sensitively riding out her high, but she knew Matty wasn’t quite as close.

His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling her walls against every inch of him. Her head rested beside his own, eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.

Despite her orgasm, her cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both her skirt and his pants. It made her tremble, thinking of them both tiredly exiting the bathroom, dishevelled and having to cover the other up.

At this point, she didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting her mouth, with Matty’s grunts and groans covering up her whines completely.

“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”

“You do! Matty does!” She exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of her quicker and more jolted. “Matty owns this pussy!”

Matty grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within her. He clenched his jaw, brown eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of her cunt squeezing him for every drop.

You was so fucking full, and even when Matty pulled his softening cock out of her — which, was still huge despite its idleness — she felt stuffed to the brim.

His come dripped down her leg, and he promptly pulled her panties up, patting her worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good baby.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to her neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”

“Told you so.” She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking her to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within her own, clasping tightly. She didn’t really mean round two - though, she wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking her - she actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead her.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through her cheekily, pulling her close to him.

So, she did go home with him, and in the morning she laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, studying the beauty of his face whilst he slept. After that, they made frequent visits to that pub, specifically to the final stall on the left in the mens bathroom.

#i hope you guys like this aaaaaah #god hes so hot! #matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 imagine #matty healy one shots #the 1975 one shots #the 1975 matty #the 1975 preference #matty healy preference #the 1975 one shot #matty healy one shot #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic #matty healy x oc fic #matty healy x reader fic #matty healy x you fic

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 4

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, also toxic!ellie kind of, mentions of marijuana, sexual speech and content, brief mention of straight girls experimenting with lesbianism, toxic family relationships, lesbian situationship, descriptions and mentions of death & grieving, depressive episodes, cheating if you squint but it's more betrayal than cheating really?, bad driving for like two seconds, description and mention of vomit, minors do not interact

word count: 7k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

Freshman Year, Early Spring

“Are you coming to Jess and Els’ later tonight?” Dina asked, snuggling your pink stuffed bear and laying upside down at the head of your bed with her legs outstretched to the ceiling. 

“Hmm?” You said, distracted. You were rummaging in your messy drawers, trying to find the other pair of a sock you were currently holding in your hand. 

“Ellie said she wants to do a post-midterm celebration with a movie night, which just means we’re gonna watch some lame old sci-fi movie that she and Jesse picked out.” 

“Maybe,” You said, tossing the sock into the other contents of the drawer, giving up. “Can’t stay too late, though. Raf is picking me up really early in the morning tomorrow.” 

“Ooh, can I finally meet The Hottie Cousin Rafael in person?” Dina said, dropping her legs and turning onto her belly to face you. 

You rolled your eyes and said, “You have Jesse, Dina.” 

She shrugged and said, “I bet Hottie Cousin Rafael wouldn’t make me watch lame movies all the time.” 

“Raf is far nerdier than Jesse is, I promise.” 

“If he’s as hot as he looks on FaceTime, his hotness will cancel out the nerdiness.” 

You scrunched up your nose in disgust at Dina’s thirsting after your de facto older brother. 

“I’m not the best judge, but Jesse’s not not hot.” 

Dina laughed. 

“I’m telling El you said that.” 

Your cheeks flushed as you said, “She’ll just say the same thing!” 

“All men are basically ugly in Ellie’s eyes. She’ll say, ‘Jesse’s the uglier version of a walker from The Walking Dead’ or some shit like that.” 

You giggled, knowing that was probably true. 

“Do you have to leave early for spring break?” Dina whined. 

You gave her a sad smile. 

“Sorry, D. You know how my mother is.” 

Dina groaned and, pointing to the plushie she was holding, said, “Barbie Bear, when will you come to life at night Toy Story-style and finally horrifically murder this awful lady?” 

“Dina!” You exclaimed, grabbing your pink bear from her. “Don’t you corrupt Barbie Bear! She is an innocent soul!” 

“Oh, she’s been corrupted already,” Dina said, snatching Barbie Bear back. “I’m sure she’s been a witness to the deplorable things you and Ellie have gotten up to in here.” 

“Dina!” You squealed once more, blushing furiously and hiding your face behind your hands. “She and I have not!” 

“Oh please,” Dina rolled her eyes. “Ellie comes back to her and Jesse’s place the morning after spending the night here with the same cocky ass look that Jesse has after we fuck.” 

“Oh my god—” 

Dina cackled and you giggled nervously. 

“So are you two officially together now or—?” 

“Who, me and Ellie?” You asked. 

“No, you and Jesse.” Dina said sarcastically, throwing Barbie Bear at you. 

You caught the bear at the last second, laughing as you climbed onto your bed with her and handed the plushie back to her. 

“Shut up!” You giggled. “But, umm. I’m not really sure what we are, if I’m being honest.” 

Dina groaned and said, “Ugh, you’re both useless!” 

“I’ve only had one real girlfriend before!” 

“So has Ellie!” 

“Then ask her instead!” 

“Oh, I have.” Dina said, raising her eyebrows. 

You perked up suddenly. 

“Wait, what did she say?” 

“Oh my god, can you two just have the talk already?!” Dina groaned, exasperated at her friends’ incompetence. 

You blushed harder than ever. 

“I just… I just don’t know if she feels the same way I do.” 

Dina rolled her eyes. 

“You’re the first person she texts every morning, and mind you, Ellie hates texting. She will spend an hour in that stupid Jeep of hers in the parking lot outside until you get home from class just to hang out with you. Three of her five hoodies are somewhere here in your room right now. Tara told me that you’ve sexiled her at least twice already.” 

“We have not!” 

“Honey, she literally spent two separate nights at mine and Astrid’s because you and Ellie were over here—” 

Dina made a circle with her right thumb and pointer finger and repeatedly inserted her left pointer in it. 

“OH MY GOD—” You screamed into a pillow. 

Dina was over the moon teasing you as you grabbed your blanket and hid underneath it. 

“I need to offer to do her laundry for two weeks or something,” You said, your voice muffled from beneath the covers. “I’m the worst roommate ever.” 

Dina chuckled, saying, “Don’t worry, she likes you and Ellie together. Just maybe shoot her a warning text before you two wanna scissor, or whatever you lesbians do.” 

“Oh please, like you and Ellie never did anything together.” You said, emerging from underneath your blanket. 

“Okay, first of all,” Dina said, putting up one finger. “Ellie and I kissed once at our sophomore homecoming dance, and that was just to make Jesse jealous.” 

You chuckled. 

Dina put up a second finger. 

“Two, it was like kissing a cousin, so that obviously resulted in zero sexual scenarios whatsoever from that point on. I have never once been compelled to call Ellie ‘daddy’ ever in my life.” 

You screamed into your pillow once more at this. 

Dina put both fingers down and put her middle finger up. 

“And three, I have had gay sex with women before, but they were both also bisexual and there was no scissoring involved!” 

You were laughing uncontrollably now with Dina attacking you with Barbie Bear. 

“Okay, okay!” You giggled, attempting to shield yourself. “Why are we talking about scissoring again?” 

“Because!” 

One hit from Barbie Bear. 

“You are avoiding!” 

Another hit from Barbie Bear. 

“My questions!” 

A third hit from Barbie Bear. 

“About you!” 

An additional hit from Barbie Bear. 

“And Ellie!” 

A final hit from Barbie Bear that landed on your face. 

You snatched your stuffed animal away from Dina before she could swing it once more, pulling it away from her reach. 

“Okay, no more abusing me with Barbie Bear!” You said.

She chuckled. 

“And…” You started, serious now. “I’ve never experienced this before. I’ve had one real girlfriend, which was a high school disaster.” 

You sighed. 

“I briefly saw that one girl Adriana at the beginning of the year before we both realized she was just a rebound to my ex. I’ve hooked up with a few other girls since, and I was even Rebecca’s first lesbian college experiment kiss before she realized she was just straight.” 

Dina was sitting straight up now, staring at you intently and listening attentively. You pulled Barbie Bear into your chest. 

“Ellie is… she feels different. Something in my heart just yearns for her. She makes me feel like I must have done something so great in a past life that her just being in my life is the reward. She makes me feel forgiven and understood and—” 

You paused your Ellie sermon when you made eye contact with Dina, who was looking at you with a soft expression. 

“Sorry!” You threw your hands up apologetically and proceeded to cover your face with them in embarrassment. “I sound like a 12-year-old experiencing their first real crush!” 

Dina chuckled and pulled your hands away from your face. 

“No, you don’t. You sound like someone who Ellie deserves to have in her life, someone who sees her fully and appreciates all the good and bad. She’s gone through her own fair share of romantic and sexual bullshit too, and knowing that she now has you?” 

Dina placed an affectionate hand on your cheek. 

“I know that I don’t have to worry anymore.” 

“Dina, you’re gonna make me cry right now.” 

Dina leaned back into your pillows, laughing. 

“You started it!” 

“You sounded like you were giving away a bride!” 

“Wow, not even officially together yet, but somehow you’re already getting married.” 

You groaned and flopped onto your back. 

“I love her, Dina.” 

“No shit, babe.” 

After the talk you had with Dina, you both went over to Jesse and Ellie’s dorm room. Even though Jesse was a sophomore and Ellie a freshman, they were somehow able to convince the campus housing department to let them room together after both their roommates dropped out during the first month of classes. 

The “lame old sci-fi movie” that they’d picked out turned out to be Jurassic Park, which you’d already seen several times, courtesy of your nerdy older cousin Rafael. Dina was playfully criticizing every little bit of the movie to tease Jesse, who was taking her critiques to heart. As the couple were lovingly bickering with each other on the floor, you and Ellie sat on her bed underneath a blanket. 

You leaned against her shoulder while she was tracing patterns on the palm of your hand. Though she was concentrated on the movie, she would habitually give you a kiss on top of your head, sometimes following with her nose nuzzling your hair. She’d not said she loved you so far, but gestures like this felt like her way of saying it. You felt warm and content and the happiest you’ve ever been in your life. 

After Jesse convinced the rest of you to watch the movie’s sequel (as punishment to Dina for talking through the first), you’d made up your mind to change your spring break plans. 

You were still planning on returning home for the break, but since Ellie, Dina, and Jesse were spending the weekend on campus and not returning to their hometown until Monday, you resolved to at least spend more time with them. You knew that two weeks of spring break didn’t seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things. But the thought of being away from your friends whom you loved so deeply, but especially from Ellie, hurt far more than it did when you left home for college in the first place. 

And after your talk with Dina earlier that day, you’d also decided to be honest with Ellie about your feelings for her before you briefly went your separate ways. You knew that maybe it wasn’t the greatest timing to profess your love for the girl of your dreams right before zero physical contact for fourteen days. But Dina helped you further realize the affection you had for Ellie, and you knew you couldn’t go home without letting her know. You also figured that if all went wrong, you could always use the two weeks to save face before returning to campus. 

During the scene with Jeff Goldblum and Julianne Moore’s characters are hiding in a trailer from the T-Rex parents, you texted your cousin Rafael. 

A minute or two passed before he responded. 

You reply immediately. 

Three text bubbles loaded for a second before two texts appeared. 

You felt your cheeks burn. 

You could almost feel your cousin chuckling through text.

You breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude.

You smiled, your heart full and thankful for your favourite cousin. 

Jesse whooped and Dina squealed as she pulled you into a tight hug when you told them you were leaving in two days instead of the next morning. Ellie didn’t say much in the moment, but you felt a glow of happiness radiating from her at the news. When your friends had settled down and continued the movie, Ellie pulled you closer to her and wrapped her arms around you. You leaned into her embrace as she silently decorated your neck with kisses, resolving to call your mother tomorrow morning to break the news. 

You never made that call.

You awoke to your phone buzzing angrily underneath your pillow. Discombobulated, you didn’t fully perceive your surroundings. You’d fallen asleep on Ellie’s bed, still wrapped in her arms. Jesse and Dina had eventually migrated at some point in the night to Jesse’s bed and were sound asleep. You saw that Ellie had plugged your phone into her charger after you’d fallen asleep. Stroking her hair lightly as she slept, you looked at your phone to see it was your mother calling. 

Before accepting the call, you’d seen that you had 7 missed calls and 4 voicemails. You groaned. Was your mother really that upset? 

You didn’t seem that alarmed until you saw that only 6 of those calls and 3 of those voicemails were from your mother. One of each was from your uncle, Rafael’s father. 

Why is Uncle calling me? Did she guilt him into guilting me to come home?

Sighing, you finally accepted your mother’s call. 

Ellie, Jesse, and Dina all awoke to you screaming. All three were at different levels of disorientation at first, but upon seeing your shrieking figure having fallen to the floor, they all rushed to your side. No one seemed sure what to do at first, other than trying to stand you up (to no avail) and ask what was wrong. It was Dina who snapped into sense first, noticing that you were still on a call with your mother. 

She picked up the phone, rushed through an introduction, and worryingly inquired what was happening. Ellie and Jesse watched as her mouth fell open and her eyes widened with shock. She listened to your mother for a minute or two before bringing the other two into the loop. 

Your cousin Rafael was killed in a hit-and-run that morning. Since he was no longer tasked to bring you home that day, he made impromptu plans with old college friends to meet up for an early morning coffee. He was crossing an intersection on the way to the café when a car decided to run a red light. He died on impact. 

Your spring break was consumed completely by black clothing, floral wreaths of white lilies and roses, and an overstocked fridge of homemade food that your family barely touched. You saw no happy faces, only red eyes and quivering lips. You were torn out of the blissful bubble of your college life into a waking, familial nightmare. 

Rafael was your first cousin and not your brother. But it was as if at birth, he claimed you as his sister and the rest was history. 

Everyone who knew either of you was aware of the sibling bond you’d shared. He was the most important person to you for the first 18 years of your life. More than your parents, more than any other family member, more than any of your friends. Saying that he was your best friend was an understatement. 

The two weeks back home with your family were a black haze. You remained locked up in your room for the majority of the time, and when your presence was required, you spoke only when spoken to. You alternated between fits of sobbing and near-comatose states. 

Your only comfort was your uncle, Rafael’s father. You never knew your parents to give genuine love and affection, so you grew up seeing your uncle as a parental figure. Even as he raised Rafael alone as a single father, he often took you under his wing and provided you with a place of home away from your parents’ house. 

Your parents, especially your mother, were preoccupied with putting on the show of a broken family to sympathizers. It was your uncle who made sure you continued to eat and drink every day. He was the one to give you the gentle push to leave your room for the funeral, knowing that you’d one day regret not going. He even spoke to your friends on the phone when you’d stopped responding. By the end of your spring break, Dina had his personal phone number so she could call twice a day for daily updates, which she would promptly share with Jesse and Ellie. 

Unlike your mother, your uncle placed no blame on you for his son’s death. He knew that the one true person to blame was the careless driver in the car that hit him. But your mother was a different story. 

In those last few days before you needed to return to campus, your mother enlightened you with her true feelings. 

She had decided your “selfishness” in inconveniencing your family was what decided Rafael’s fate. If he had been on his way to pick you up from college, he never would have been crossing that intersection. According to her, you’d placed insignificant people you’d known for less than a year over your own family. 

If you were a weaker person, you’d have crumbled under her accusations. She was quite skilled in twisting the truth to her point of view, and she was skilled even more so in making people believe the worst of themselves. But Rafael and your uncle raised you better. You may not have been the most secure person growing up, but they made you feel loved. 

Despite your mother’s malice, you were grateful for her outburst. It snapped you back into reality. Your fury at your mother reminded you that Rafael would not have wanted you to give in to her guilt. 

You knew that his death was not your fault. Of course you were still grieving, but you loved Rafael so much that you would not allow your mother to force you back into a state of living death. Your uncle made sure of this when he drove you back to campus. 

The few hours drive to your dorm, you and your uncle had the most intense and intimate conversation you’d ever had with him. You bawled, you even smiled and laughed a few times, and you talked about the future. It pained you to watch him drive away, the last real living connection you had left to Rafael. 

You may not have been the depressive zombie you were at the news of Rafael’s death, but you no longer lived blissfully in your college bubble. Still, your friends remained sympathetic and loving as you dealt with your grief. 

Ellie remained just as caring and affectionate, at least at first. She made sure to spend all her free time with you to make sure you weren’t left alone to spiral into your depressive thoughts. She didn’t try anything sexual with you and made sure to respect your mourning boundaries. She even set an alarm every week to make sure you were on time for your video therapy sessions (your uncle set you up with a therapist to make sure you remained stable). 

To the outside observer, your grieving process was progressing naturally and healthily. You barely missed class, you still saw your friends on a regular basis, you weren’t bursting out in tears (or so most of your friends thought). No one else felt the need to worry about you more than they had to. 

Except for Dina. 

Having lost her parents at a young age, it was mostly her and her older sister taking care of each other. Part of why she grew to be so close to Jesse was because his parents were family friends who helped them out when their parents passed. 

Dina has dealt with great familial loss before and she saw the signs of someone barely keeping it together. 

That’s why before your freshman year ended, Dina invited you to stay with her and her sister for the summer. 

Summer Before Sophomore Year: Jackson 

Calling your parents to let them know that you weren’t coming back home for most of the summer was a difficult conversation. Your mother threw a fit and your father chastised you for upsetting your mother. But with encouragement of your friends and your uncle (who promised you that he’d ship essentials from your parents’ house to Dina’s as soon as he could), you eagerly accompanied Dina, Jesse, and Ellie to their hometown of Jackson. 

After just a few days in the town, you understood why the trio have remained friends since childhood. The community in Jackson was small but very tight-knit. Everyone knew each other and it seemed unusual for people to leave. They treated each other like family, and you envied the comfy, homey feeling the town radiated. 

Dina’s sister Talia wasn’t around very often, consumed by her full-time job. You didn’t fully understand what she did for work, only that it had something to do with computers. The few times you were actually able to spend time with her, you enjoyed seeing the repertoire between her and her younger sister. Though ten years older than Dina, they treated each other like peers. You saw how Dina grew to be such an emotionally mature person. Talia accepted you with open arms, fulfilling the role of big sister the entire time you were there. 

On the third day of your stay, you finally met Joel. He was Ellie’s adoptive father who took in Ellie at a young age. Though they were not biologically related, you found yourself often chuckling over how similar the two were. 

Ellie’s foul-mouthed behaviour mirrored that of Joel’s, which was a welcome contrast to your parent’s curt and strict speech. He told stories of his past, many of which involved him getting into all sorts of trouble. Though he seemed to have grown out of it, you saw that impulsivity and temperament in Ellie today. 

He was a kind, old man, and you saw why Ellie admired him so. You also noticed just how much he loved Ellie as if he’d birthed her himself. You found yourself desiring the kind of parent Joel was. You had your uncle throughout your childhood, of course, but you still had to go home to the cruelty of your parents at the end of the day. 

Joel seemed to be aware that Ellie dealt back at your university. It was through him that Ellie actually knew her plug. This old pal of Joel’s, Eugene, was originally her (and Dina’s and Jesse’s) dealer back in high school. When they’d graduated and started attending university, Eugene introduced Ellie to an old contact who grew not far from campus once she started dealing. Joel would roll his eyes and scoff any time the topic of Ellie being a dealer came up, but he genuinely didn’t seem to mind as long as she was smart about it. 

On nights when Dina and Jesse were both busy, you found yourself spending the evening at Joel’s house. He was very keen on having you over for dinner often, complaining that Ellie was a very boring conversation partner. You bonded quickly over a number of things, such as your mutual love of coffee (to which Ellie rolled her eyes, claiming that a simple hot chocolate was far superior to that “burnt shit”) and being Ellie’s impulse control. 

About nearly a month into your stay, Dina was picking you up from another dinner at Joel’s and Ellie’s place to walk you back to her house. Both waved you goodbye at the front door (not before you gave Ellie a peck on the cheek) and watched as you and Dina linked arms and walked into the streetlight-lit darkness. 

Once you and Dina were out of their sight, Joel put his hand on Ellie’s shoulder. 

“Come on, kiddo. We need to talk.” 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, old man,” Ellie exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and leaning into the living room couch. 

“Ellie.” 

“Joel.” Ellie said, mocking his serious tone. 

“That girl is so in love with you, and it’s plain to anyone who sees y’all together.” 

Ellie crossed her arms, saying nothing. 

“And it’s as clear as day that you’re head over heels for her too.” 

Ellie scoffed and said, “Don’t assume shit, old timer.” 

“I ain’t assuming anythin’. I know you, and so do Dina and Jesse.” 

“You’ve been talking to Dina and Jesse behind my back?” 

“Now, hold on there,” Joel said, taking a seat at the lounge chair next to the couch Ellie sat on. “They were just tellin’ me about what y’all get up to at that big university, and we just got to talkin’ about you. There weren’t no secret meetings or anythin’ conspirin’ like that.” 

“And what did those two have to say?” 

“That y’all have been basically joined to the hip since y’all met.” Joel said, leaning back. 

“That’s not true—” Ellie began angrily. 

“Look, kid, no need to be pitchin’ a hissy fit. I’m just relayin’ what those two have been observin’. But since y’all took her home, apparently you’ve been actin’ a tad different towards her.” 

“What does that mean?” 

Joel sighed. 

“Ellie, this girl was all you talked about nonstop that whole year you were up at that school. I already know the girl’s favourite colour and coffee order just from the phone calls we had.” 

“I did not talk about her that much.” 

“Yes, you did. There’s no point in denyin’ it.” 

Ellie glared. 

“Now, I wanna know why it seems like you’ve changed your tune on her.” 

“Really, ‘changed my tune?’ Man, you’re getting too old.” 

“Don’t go changin’ the subject. Now, I can see how you’re still clearly sweet on her, but there’s somethin’ a little off. Like you’re holdin’ back from her, or somethin’ like that.” 

“I’m just not a people person, Joel, and you know that.” 

“Doesn’t matter. Ellie,” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and looked directly at her. “Do you love her?” 

“Come on, man—” 

“Ellie.” 

Ellie met Joel’s eyes and saw that he was waiting for a truthful answer. She exhaled, took a beat, and responded. 

“I don’t love her.” 

Joel sighed sadly. 

“Thought I taught you better than that, kiddo.” 

She looked away, saying, “We’re not even dating.” 

“Does she know that?  

“She’s not stupid.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Ellie stood up, exasperated. 

“Why does any of this matter, Joel!” 

“Because that poor darlin’ just lost her own kin, so if you’re fixin’ to break her heart, you need to stop stringin’ her along.” 

“I’m not doing anything!” 

“I like this girl for you, Ellie. She’s got a kind soul that somehow blossomed past her upbringin’. She brings out the best in you, even if you try to hide it. She thinks the world of you, kid, bless her heart. Don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret.” 

“I haven’t done shit!” Ellie yelled, standing up from the couch. 

“Daggum it, stop actin’ childish and listen to what I’m sayin’ here, Ellie.” 

Ellie stormed out of the room without another word. 

After the conversation she had with Joel, Ellie began acting distant towards you. It started with the little things: keeping her hands in her pockets while you walked around town to avoid holding your outstretched hand, no longer inviting you over to dinner at Joel’s unless Dina or Jesse planned on coming along, no more public displays of affection and very limited tenderness in private. 

Dina was right in her assumption that you were barely holding it together. The anxiety as a result of Ellie’s behaviour, on top of your grief over your cousin’s death, began unraveling you. 

Your late-night talks with Dina became less and less. You began sitting next to her or Jesse more often than you did Ellie. Dina would walk in on you completely spaced out and it took several minutes to get a verbal response out of you. 

Dina and Jesse were sure that if you came back with them to Jackson, being around the presence of those who loved you as opposed to people who resented you would ease your grieving process. They didn’t, however, predict that Ellie become a hurdle to your progress. And they certainly did not predict Ellie’s idiotic actions that followed. 

“I thought we were having a movie night,” Jesse said, eyebrows furrowed. “I brought DVDs.” 

Ellie chuckled, saying, “You know there are these things called ‘streaming services’ now, Jess.” 

“Hypocrite. You and Joel have stacks of DVDs of every action and sci-fi movie ever made in your living room.” 

“What can I say, I’ve gotten with the times.” 

“Like hell you have.” 

You, Dina, and Jesse were all bunched up on the pull-out couch in Dina’s basement (where you were residing for the summer). Jesse was messing with the TV’s remote to find the right input while you and Dina were snuggled up underneath the same blanket. Your tired eyes watched as Ellie pulled her flannel on and rolled her sleeves up, revealing that fern tattoo you loved so much on her right forearm. 

“Who the fuck is more important than us, anyway?” Dina said, frowning. 

Ellie chuckled again, saying, “We hang out almost every day, D. You’ll survive the night.” 

“You’re not coming back after dinner?” 

“We’ll see, but don’t wait up.” 

Your eyes then fell down to your fingers, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket. You haven’t spoken out loud once tonight since Ellie’d walked in. 

“You’re banned from our friend group now. You may reapply in 3-6 months.” Dina said, flipping Ellie off. 

“Literally one dinner, drama queen.” 

“Where are you even going?” 

“Rivers Café.” 

You didn’t notice how Jesse’s and Dina’s faces fell. 

“Gonna be late, so see you guys later.” Ellie said, walking up the stairs without a second glance. 

After a beat or two, Jesse spoke. 

“What the actual fuck.” 

“Jesse—“ Dina began. 

“I love her, but god damn it.” Jesse got up and started shuffling through the DVDs he brought. 

There was a palpable tension in the air for the rest of the night. An old martial arts movie was playing, but none of you were paying much attention. Nobody said anything, besides a comment every now and again from Dina noting how unrealistic some fighting move was. 

Ellie didn’t come back to Dina’s that night. 

Two weeks before classes started, your things were packed to return to your parents’ house. You didn’t want to leave, but you needed to properly prepare for the start of your junior year. 

Dina was watchful and clingy before you left, constantly letting you know that the first thing she was going to do when you all returned to campus was hunt you down for a coffee date. Jesse would chuckle at this, saying that he’d probably see you when she dragged him along to it. 

Dina’s sister Talia said goodbye to you three days before your departure, needing to leave for a brief business trip the day before. She pulled you into a very tight hug, telling you that you were always welcome in their home and to feel free to tag along with Dina during any school breaks. 

You had a last dinner at Joel’s the night before you left. He made you and Ellie a simple pasta dish, which you learned was his late daughter Sarah’s favourite meal. He and you shared a sweet and intimate conversation where you both opened up about your shared familial losses. He told you about Sarah and you talked about Rafael. You understood why Joel was so protective over Ellie, having lost Sarah when she was only 12. You were happy that Ellie had someone like that in her life. 

Surprisingly, Ellie had offered to drive you home. You were starved for her attention, so you happily accepted. You offered for her to stay in your parents’ guest room for a night so she wouldn’t have to do so much driving in one day, but she said she didn’t mind. You felt disappointed, but you also didn’t want to subject her to your parents more than you had to. 

Dina and Jesse were the ones who waved you off (Joel sent his regards with Ellie when she came to Dina’s place to pick you up). You reassured them both that two weeks was not a very long time, though you were partly saying it out loud to convince yourself of it too. Your hand was the last thing they saw, waving from the passenger’s window of Ellie’s car. 

As you drove away from the gates of Jackson, there was not much noise except an Aminé song playing in the background and the occasional bird call heard outside from the rolled-down windows. 

There was a heaviness in your heart that weighed more and more the further from Jackson you were. Though you didn’t grow up there, the locals were so naturally welcoming. Being there felt like coming home every day. It was a safe and healthy place for you to process your grief. You wished summer went on forever. 

After a little while of silence between you and Ellie during which you lamented on your departure, you began to feel the awkwardness between you two. She hadn’t said anything and it didn’t seem like she had any intention to. You shrunk in your seat and began fidgeting and braced yourself to say something. 

“Um,” You started. “Thanks for offering to drive me back.” 

“No big deal,” Ellie replied. “Happy to do it.” 

You could feel your heart beating in your ears. 

“Why’d you decide to?” 

Ellie shrugged. “Just wanted to be a good friend.” 

You winced. 

“Is… is that what we are, El? Just friends?” You asked meekly. 

“I mean, yeah. Of course.” 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. 

Is this how she really feels? Has this how she’s felt the whole year we’ve been doing all this? Have I just been reading into all this wrong? 

You attempted to suppress a bubbling anxiety attack, trying not to hyperventilate. Ellie seemed to be content with the silence and said nothing. 

Trying to distract yourself, you whipped out your phone to text Dina. 

She replied almost immediately. 

After a few seconds, another text from her popped up. 

You chuckled silently, replying: 

Ellie noticed the sudden sound, saying, “What are you laughing about?” 

“Just Jesse.” You said. 

“Ahh” was all she said in reply. 

You refused to look her way, feeling like seeing her disinterested face would make you feel worse than you already were. 

You texted Dina, saying: 

Three text bubbles appeared before her texts popped up. 

You gulped, even more anxious than before.

You tried to ignore the nagging feeling that there was something else going on, something you weren’t privy to. You and Ellie were inseparable most of freshman year, even before you were explicitly doing things that regular friends didn’t do. 

What’s changed? 

Sometime during your internal struggle, you’d drifted off to sleep. You woke up groggy and disoriented, taking a moment to realize you were still in the passenger seat of Ellie’s Jeep. The sun was further west than before. You glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 

“How much further do we have?” You asked, voice raspy. 

“About an hour or so.” 

“Oh.” 

You’d been asleep for longer than you thought. Feeling guilty, you wiped some drool off your chin and yawned quietly. 

“I’m sorry for passing out on you.” 

“All good.” Ellie said. 

“Did I snore?” 

Ellie shrugged and you stopped yourself from letting out an incredibly audible and frustrated sigh. 

Five or ten minutes passed during which you were wrestling with yourself on making use of the rest of the time to confront Ellie. In the end, you decided that two weeks of this anxiety eating at you was not worth it. 

“Els?” 

She didn’t seem to hear you. 

You cleared your throat and said a little louder, “Ellie.” 

“What’s up?” She said, dryly. 

You took a deep breath. 

“What’s been going on?” You asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

You bit the inside of your lip. 

“I mean…” You began. “You haven’t been yourself lately.” 

“I don’t really know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ellie, come on. You’ve been… different.” 

She didn’t answer. 

“Jesse and Dina both agree with me.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I don’t really appreciate people talking about me behind my back.” 

“We’re not!” You exclaimed. “We’ve just been wondering why you’re so distant lately.” 

“Just cause I’m not much of a talker doesn’t mean I’ve been distant.” 

You used to talk all the time with me. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ellie. You don’t seem to like hanging out with us, and you cancel on us half the time. You don’t tell us what you’ve been up to or where you’ve been.” 

You gulped. 

“Like that movie night at Dina’s place. You agreed to come over for a sleepover, and you came for five minutes then bailed on us and didn’t even tell us where you were going.” 

“Yes, I did!” 

“Not ‘til the very end! You didn’t even tell us who you were seeing!” 

“Why does that even matter?” 

“It’s not that, Ellie! It’s just that you’ve been elusive and secretive, and I don’t like it!” 

“Well, that’s not really my problem, is it?” 

Her words pierced your heart and it took everything you had to keep going and not break down. 

Is that what I’ve become now? Your problem, Ellie? 

“I guess not.” You said quietly. 

A few minutes of silence passed. You were fidgeting in your seat once more while Ellie seemed completely disinterested in further conversation. 

But you refused to go back with all this unresolved. 

“Who did you see?” You asked suddenly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“At that café. Who did you go see?” 

“Why do you care?” Ellie scoffed. 

“Why won’t you answer?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“It was just an old friend, okay? Jesus,” She said, irritated. “I have other friends besides Jesse and Dina.” 

“Who was it, Ellie?” 

“Her name is Cat! God, enough with the questions.” 

You froze for a moment until you finally murmured, “Cat, your ex-girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“You guess?” 

“What the fuck do you want from me, dude?” Ellie cried, coming to a stop at a red light a little rougher than needed. 

You blinked. 

“What?” You asked quietly. 

“What?” Ellie repeated, angrily. 

“Why did you call me that? You never… You always—” 

You always call me “babe.” Or “baby.” I thought I was your baby. 

“Whatever,” You said, shaking your head. “I just don’t know why you’d see her. I thought you hadn’t kept in contact with her since high school.” 

“We reconnected over the summer,” Ellie huffed, slowly putting her foot down on the accelerator. “Didn’t realize that was a fucking crime.” 

Your mouth quivered as silent, betraying tears began to fall. 

“Am I a joke to you, Ellie?” You whispered. 

“What?” 

“Am I a FUCKING joke to you?” You shouted. 

Ellie froze, almost swerving. She’d never heard you raise your voice this way. 

“I thought… I thought I meant more to you. I thought that we had something. What the fuck did I do wrong? What did I do?” 

Your right hand was wiping tears away while your left was clutching your stomach tightly. You felt like you needed to hurl. 

“You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t touch me. Why did you start talking to her again? Why wouldn’t you talk to me? Was I not fucking enough?” 

There was a pause before Ellie spoke. 

“You’re not my girlfriend. I have no obligation to you.” 

You felt as if the world disappeared from underneath you and you were falling. You were no longer in the passenger seat of Ellie’s car. No, you were plunging into a dark abyss, the same one that your friends had saved you from falling into when Rafael died. But here you were anyway. And it was Ellie who pushed you in. 

Before you knew it, Ellie had pulled up to the curb of your house. The sound of her engine turning off snapped you back into reality briefly. As you unbuckled yourself, you realized that on top of a plain black tank, you were wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt that Ellie’d lent you. You tore it off and threw it to the floor. 

Before Ellie could even move, you were out of the car and pulling your bags out of Ellie’s backseat. By the time Ellie unbuckled herself and got out of the driver seat, you had all your bags in hand and ready to trudge up your parents’ driveway. 

You felt you probably looked ridiculous: tears and snot running down your face while you struggled with several heavy bags. But you didn’t care. You needed a wall between you and Ellie immediately. 

“Look—” Ellie started, taking a few steps. 

You dropped your bags and started towards her. 

“Fuck you, Ellie Williams.” You spat. 

“Fuck you for lying to me. Fuck you for leading me on. Fuck you for letting me fall in love with you. Fuck you for breaking my heart.” 

Ellie stopped in her tracks. 

“You... you—” She began, but her voice caught. 

By the time she found her voice again, you had already picked your bags up and hauled them to the front porch, keys already in your hand to unlock the door. She almost called your name out and yelled for you to wait, but you had thrown your bags through the threshold so quickly and disappeared almost immediately after them. 

Ellie jumped at the sound of the front door slamming. 

The second you had closed the door behind you, you leaned into one of your mother’s decorative urns and vomited.

author's notes:

is barbie bear based on an actual stuffed bear i own and is named barbie and is that a picture of her in the icon at the beginning of the fic? no

i was SO so nervous to post this omg, cause not only is this a long ass chapter, but i wanted to make sure to give proper explanation to present day events. i hope i did it justice! lmk what y'all think!!

writing a flashback chapter was so fun?? might do at least another one at some point

also i meant to mention this in a previous chapter, but reader's cousin rafael is actually based on an older cousin of mine (who has the same name but we all call him by a nickname) who actually has a similar-ish relationship with me as reader does with her cousin (he and i are only a year apart tho and reader & her rafael are several years apart), but dw my cousin is still alive sdklfjslsldkfj

btw pls notice that rivers cafe is an actual place in the games hehe (so was ruston coffee in the last chapter)

oh also if you have ever been sexiled before, i am so sorry and you will see heaven as reparations (i on the other hand will not as i have been a sexiler myself oops)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

[forays-into-fiction]

Read Your Book For Me

Eddie loves it when you read to him, but don’t let him distract you.

Eddie x Bambi Masterlist  

Request fill for Anon, hope you don’t mind that I made this one an Eddie x Bambi fic and changed some details... enjoy 😊 

Also as a side note the book excerpts Bambi is reading are from an actual book, did a bit of searching and found something that I think kind of fit the story, it’s Mackenzie's Mountain by Linda Howard if anyone is interested... let’s also just ignore that it was published a few years after this story is set lol.

Minors DNI

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Not So Innocent!Girly!Reader, Perv!Eddie/Perv!Reader, Slight Corruption Kink, Reading Smut Aloud, Frottage/Humping, Sex Toys, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Bambi, Sweetheart), Praise Kink, Slight Somnophilia, Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader

Eddie was sleeping over at your place for a change, your parents were away for the weekend and you invited him over for some company. You’re laying on your stomach, facing towards the foot of your bed, reading a smutty book. Eddie was laid out beside you leaning back against the headboard working on his math homework. 

It wasn’t doing much to hold his interest and his gaze kept wandering to the globes of your ass in their little fuzzy, pink terrycloth sleep shorts. They had ridden up further and further as you squirmed, getting more and more invested in the steamy scene unfolding in your book. 

It didn’t escape his notice either, it didn’t help that he could also see the bottom of your tattoo peeking out the leg of your shorts. He drops his notebook on the bed beside him as his cock stirs in his flannel bottoms, he knows there is no way that homework is getting done right now. 

He watches you for a moment longer, unbeknownst to you, before slowly trailing a hand up your leg ‘til it meets the swell of one of your cheeks. He rubs circles into the soft, plump flesh before trailing down the other leg, squeezing softly as he goes. 

A little groan escapes your lips before you look over your shoulder curiously, “Eddie, what’re you doing? You finish your homework?”

“Uhhh… not yet sweetheart… got… a little distracted.” He hums moving his hand back up your leg.

You gasp and moan wantonly when he lands a stinging slap across your rear before dragging his hand between your thighs to caress your dripping cunt.

You go to roll over, but he holds you in place, “Nuh uh sweetheart, don’t worry about me, you just keep reading that book of yours… actually you know what read it aloud for me so I know you’re not cheating, ok?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whimper.

He gives another little warning slap, “I don’t wanna hear any stuttering either, read it nice and clear for me.”

You take a shaky breath before reiterating firmly, “Yes, sir.”

As you begin reading, he pulls your shorts up tight to your ass exposing more of it to him. He tugs both your shorts and panties to the side to caress your sticky, wet folds and you whine in response.

He tuts, “Remember, keep reading the book.”

You nod and continue.

 His grip shifted, one arm locking around her buttocks and the other around her back, and his hot mouth searched for her nipple. He found it, his mouth clamping down on it through the barriers of her dress and bra, but the sensation was still so exquisite that her breath caught on a moan and her back arched, pushing her breast against him.

  You can hear him adjusting his position, feel the shift of the bed, he slides his pants down and straddles your legs. You gasp as he begins rutting against your clothed ass.

 It wasn't enough. She burrowed her fingers through his hair, digging into his skull to push him harder against her, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him with sudden, fierce desperation. The layers of cloth that kept him from her drove her mad, and she squirmed against him, low whimpers coming from her throat. "Please," she begged.

 Your eyes jump forward a few paragraphs without realising as you read out breathily.

 "Kiss me," she whispered, reaching up to thrust her fingers into his long hair and pull him down to her.

"I'll kiss you all over before I'm through with you," he muttered, and bent his head. Her mouth opened under the force of his, and his tongue moved into her in a deep rhythm that she instinctively recognised and accepted, responded to eagerly. He was heavy, but it was so natural that she bear his weight that she rejoiced in the pressure of his body.

 He lets out a groan, gripping your hips bruisingly, “Oh yeah, just stay right there, just like that fuck... keep… keep reading Bambi… don’t stop.”

You read on at his instance, the combination of his hard length against you and the scene unfolding in your book was driving you mad.

 She wrapped her arms around his thickly muscled shoulders and hugged him even tighter to her; she wanted to be as close as she could to him, and to that end her hips undulated slightly, adjusting to the carnal pressure of his loins.

 He continues his lazy pace, pulling you up against him every so often. He was using you, no better than a common sex toy… and you liked it. If this is what he wanted, for you to lay there and take it, you were happy to do so… for him. It had set your whole body aflame, burning with desire, dripping with need as you press on.

 The slow movements of her hips beneath him made him feel as if his head would explode from the rush of blood through his body. He made a low, rough sound in his throat and reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. He thought he would die if he didn't feel her silky skin under his hands, if he didn't sheathe his throbbing flesh inside her.

 You let out a little whine, your resolve breaking, and push back against him, “P-please Eddie.”

It was the first time you’d stuttered, he let it slide for now, “If you’re a good girl, you’ll take what I give you, you wanna be a good girl don’t ya? Good girls get rewarded you know.”

“Fuck… wanna be good, please I’ll be so good for you sir.” You gasp desperately.

“Then keep reading your book and let me finish.” He responds firmly.

You resume reading and he flops forward pressing his weight against you, with one hand he brushes your hair aside and starts kissing and nibbling along the back of your neck.

His other hand returns to your shorts sliding them and your panties aside, his cock drags along your exposed flesh, between your dripping, puffy lips catching against your clit maddeningly.

He thrusts away lazily, enjoying your wet heat and the way your words roll off your tongue.

 He deftly opened the clasp with one hand, a trick she hadn't learned yet, and watched the edges pull back to bare her soft curves, stopping before her nipples were revealed.

He made that rough sound again, almost like a growl, and bent to nuzzle the bra aside. His mouth, warm and wet, slid across her breast and clamped on the tightly beaded nipple. She jumped, her entire body reacting to a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, as he sucked strongly at her. Mary's eyes closed, and she moaned.

 He bites down on your neck harder as he increases the pace, hands moving to grip at your hips holding you in place. You let out a moan of your own matching the character in your book.

He growls against your skin as you squeeze your legs together around him and he thrusts away with abandon.

 She couldn't bear it; it felt too good, a hot river of pleasure-pain impulses running from breast to loin, where an empty ache made her press her legs together and arch beneath him, silently begging for the release her body had never known, but sensed with ancient wisdom.

 “Shit Bambi I’m gonna cum.” He groans.

You feel his cock twitching against you as he stills, he releases his hot, sticky load onto your clit panting into your neck.

It takes a moment before he lets you roll over, pressing soft kisses into the back of your neck.

When you do roll over to look into his eyes, gazing up at his flushed, sweaty face smiling, he murmurs to you, “Thank you Bambi… for letting me use you like that.”

You reach out to caress the side of his face, “Anytime baby, anytime ok. Remember that. I was good for you right?”

He grins back at you, “Absolutely, such a good girl for me. You want a reward now?”

You nod eagerly, “What’s my reward, sir?”

“What would you like? Want me to eat you out? Want me to use one of your toys on you?”

A cheeky grin spreads across your face, “What about both…”

“Both? Oh, you’re a greedy girl, aren’t you? Ok, tell me how you want it.”

You hum in thought, drawing out the syllable of the first word, “Theeee… oh, the magic wand pressed to my clit while you do whatever you like with your tongue.”

“A fine choice my lady. Go get it.”

He lets you up, giving your ass a playful smack as you trot off to get your wand from your treasure chest.

You emerge from your wardrobe holding your toy out proudly offering it to him.

He takes it from you and instructs, “Good, now get rid of those pesky little clothes and let me see you, sweetheart.”

You strip off slowly under his watchful eye, you toss your panties at him, all sodden with his cum and your own juices.

He chuckles, “What you want me to keep these do ya, get ‘em even more dirty for you?”

You giggle back, feigning innocence, “Well, whatever happens to them happens, who am I to say?”

He smirks, tossing them aside for now, “Get over here, you little perv.”

“Your little perv.” You correct him.

“Oh, forgive me, my little perv… how could I forget, you even got your little necklace on to prove it.” He nods down to the guitar pick between your breasts.

“I’ve always got it on, never take off.”

“I know Bambi, I know. You like to spoil me, don’t you? Always doing things to make me happy… to show me you’re mine.”

You draw in closer holding his head in your hands, gazing at him lovingly you dive in and give him a kiss, pouring your heart and soul into it.

“And I’ll keep doing it for as long as you’ll have me.”

He looks back at you ardently, “You say that like I could ever give you up. Now gimme a sec to plug this in and we can get started on you.”

He reaches past you to the socket by your bedside table, plugging in the cord.

He pops back with a grin and offers you his hand, “Now, it’s time for my lady to lay back and be rewarded for her services.”

You take his hand with a giggle and he spins you around ‘til the back of your legs hit the mattress.

You shift so that you can lay back against the pillows, watching as he adjusts with you. His head comes down to rest between your legs, which you spread for him so graciously.  

His eyes dart back to yours, “I made such a mess of you. I should really clean that up, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, diving in to lap up his own release with a guttural moan.

You gasp as his tongue delves deeper into you, seeking your juices. Your body readily supplies what he’s after as the toy in his hand springs to life with a hum. You’d almost thought he’d forgotten about it, hell even you had for a moment.

He presses the toy to your clit and laps up the fluid that dribbles out of you, tongue laving over you persistently.

You writhe beneath him, tangling your hands into his hair, gasping with great big shuddering breaths as he increases the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck, Eddie feels sooo good… thank you.”

He grins against your slick folds, doubling his efforts.

You’re wound tighter than a spring, all that build up keeping you on edge, it was all about to spill over. He murmurs into you, “Yeah, that’s it, you gonna cum for me baby? Cum all over my tongue.”

His pointed tongue probes back into you, dragging over your spongy walls, they flutter around his intruding muscle.

You cry out, a call of his name, chanting it over and over interspersed with various expletives. You gush all over his waiting tongue, flooding it with your cum, he groans appreciatively continuing to lap it up. He does so almost to the point of oversensitivity, pulling away your magic wand as your legs tremble around him and your grip on his locks finally loosens.

You feel like you’re floating down from a cloud, your whole body going slack on your plush bed.

He places the toy down beside you and pushes himself up until he’s face to face with you, bracing himself with his arms by your shoulders.

“Hi.” He grins at you.

“Hi.” You sigh back.

He sweeps your hair away from your face ducking in to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, groaning into the kiss.

He pulls back, “You never cease to amaze me y/n. Really, you’re all I could ever want and then some. How did I ever get so lucky?”

“Well, you see it all started that one day in the cafeteria…” You giggle briefly, “… but no really, I’m the lucky one. Honestly you are my dream guy.”

“Oh, stop it.” He rolls his eyes, blush rising in his cheeks.

You push against his chest and insist, “No I mean it, drop dead gorgeous, creative and talented, so attentive, so caring, so sweet… but at the same time kinky and pervy and dominant in all the best ways. You really are something else, you know that?”

“I love you, Bambi.”

“I love you.”

He drops against you, pressing his body into your naked form, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You run a hand over his bare back eventually trailing it up into his hair, scratching his scalp lightly in a way that has him practically purring.

The two of you lay there for a while wrapped up in one another, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling each other’s heartbeats.  

He rolls off of you landing beside you, pulling you up to lay against him now. He breaks the silence, “So, that book you’re reading…”

“Mmmh… what about it?” You hum.

“What’s it about? Does your porn have a plot?”

You giggle, “Oh, you’d love it, it’s about this virgin teacher who moves to this little town on a mountain and she ends up falling for the town outcast and defending him from all the dumb judgy people-”

He cuts you off, teasing, “So, you got a type then… got a thing for the outcast, huh? And didn’t he have long hair too? Are you my innocent little protector… you gonna defend me from all of Hawkins?”

“Shut up…” You whine back, “… but yes, yes I will always defend you, Eddie. Any time you need it.”

A warmth fills him at your declaration, “You really would, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would and I know you’d do the same for me… but now you should finish that math while I tidy up so we can get to bed.”

He pouts back at you, whining petulantly, “Do I have to?”

“If you do, I’ll wake you up tomorrow with a blow job and sleepy morning sex… how’s that sound?”

He scrambles for his notebook almost tossing you off of him, “Oh, sounds wonderful my cute, innocent, not-so-virginal teacher.”

You can’t help but giggle at his response, “Alright, but don’t rush, do it properly.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gives a little salute and flicks to the page he’d previously been working on, burying his head in it as you rise slipping back into your pyjamas and begin cleaning up, preparing for bed.

When you settle back down beside him, taking in his look of concentration, the way his tongue pokes out the side of his mouth, brow creased, nose crinkled you ask softly, “Nearly done?”

“Almost. Almost.” He mumbles without looking up.

He does a few more problems and you discretely peer over his shoulder to see how he’s doing. He leans back looking at you proudly, announcing with a grin, “There, done!”

You smile back, “Good job! Can you turn out the lights and then come back and cuddle me?”

You could swear his grin broadens, tripling in size taking over his whole face, “Absolutely, you just sit tight.”

You crawl beneath the covers and he slips in behind you once the lights are out, pulling you against him. You relax into him and murmur a goodnight. He responds in kind wishing you sweet dreams.

“It’ll be an even sweeter morning for both of us.” You tease.

He groans, “Stop it, or I won’t be getting any sleep.”

“Alright.” You settle in with a sigh, letting sleep carry you away.

True to your word, come morning here you are under the covers, lips wrapped around his leaking cock. He groans and whines in his sleep, hips bucking up into your mouth, you hold his thighs down gently not really restricting his movements all that much.

When suddenly you hear from above you a sharp intake of breath followed by, “Oh shit, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You toss back the covers gazing up at his sleepy, bleary-eyed form, pre-cum and drool dribbling down your chin.

“Good morning, handsome. It’s time for your reward now, so proud of you for finishing your homework.”

“Christ, I need you right now. Get up here.” He growls.

Taglist:  @hard-candy-writing @strangerthings1983fan @hellfirefiend @cluz1babe @needylilgal022 @zestychili @sahaadculture @adequate-superstar @eddiemunson95 @jabersplatt @anaisweird @brittney69 @stardancerluv @booskienahnah @chicken-taco-burrito​

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #perv!eddie #dom!eddie x sub!reader #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie x perv!reader #perv!eddie x innocent!reader #eddie x innocent!reader #perv!eddie munson #eddie x girly!reader #perv!eddie x girly!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x bambi

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Why Don't You Stay; We've Got Tonight II (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader NSFW)

Find Part One Here

A/N: Y'all asked, y'all shall receive. Thank you all again for the support; I love writing for every single one of you.

I would like to also personally thank my Brainstorming Buddy/ Editor @strawb3rri-le. the last three or four fics I've posted, including this one, would not have been possible had it not been for you, so I thank you from the literal bottom of my heart for being the Lennon to my McCartney in this writing journey. Here's to many more wonderful stories to come! <3

Summary: You and Paul get intimate after agreeing to be there for one another.

This is also inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so be sure to listen to that for your own listening/ reading pleasure!

WARNINGS: SMUT, please don't interact if you're under the age of 18, I'll call your mom. Fluffy unprotected sex (Wrap it before you Tap it amirite?) ANGST; this fic gets SAD midway through, mentions of cheating/ exes being stupid, but there is fluff in the end which makes it all better. Swearing is a given, maybe a few typos.

This one is rated 18+ or R, so tread with caution ONLY if you're of age please, I cannot stress that enough!!!

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I really am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

Paul was watching you from what little light was flooding through the window of his room. He could have asked you that question a hundred more times; but he just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He opened his mouth to inquire yet again, but you stepped towards him, lips connecting with his to ease his worries. You felt his tension melt away slowly, hands drifting down to hold your waist as you placed one hand on his chest, the other resting on his shoulder.

You pulled away slightly to glance at his sweater, and Paul watched you intensely as your hand slid down the fabric painfully slow, your fingers dipping into every clothed muscle on his torso until they were toying with the hem at his hips.

"... This should go," you suggested in a hushed tone, and after a moment of letting the recommendation settle in both of your minds, Paul let go of you, pulling it up and off him with your help, and the sweater fell to the carpet with a soft thud.

When your hand returned to his chest, now bare, you examined just how toned he was. You had no clue someone of Paul's stature could be hiding such a body under simple knit sweaters and turtlenecks; but it was a pleasant surprise.

As your palm drifted around his skin, feeling the light hairs on his chest, his own fingers couldn't help but drag along the uppermost edge of your own pyjama top. His gentle touch left a trail of goosebumps on you, his eyes following his fingers as his hand slowed to a stop above your heart.

"And, perhaps this, as well...?" Paul asked rather innocently, eyes flitting back up to meet your own gaze. You nodded a little, watching as he ran his tongue against his bottom lip. "Lift up."

You raised your arms for him, and felt your top slide up and off you, his fingers grazing your sides gently as he removed it from your body. Paul held it in his hands for a moment, eyes drifting down a little to look at the sight before him. The top fell to the floor, along with his discarded sweater, and you both stared at each other for a moment.

Paul's eyelids lowered and he sighed at you, hands reaching out to hold you again. He cupped you at the base of your ribs, his thumbs drawing nonsensical patterns on the skin under your breasts as he closed the gap between you again. As your lips pressed together, Paul slowly walked you back to the edge of his bed, where you lowered yourself to sit when you felt the mattress against the back of your legs.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, finally pulling away to look at you again. His hands moved up carefully to cup your breasts, and you shut your eyes. He gauged your reaction to his touch, and feeling his thumbs run gently over your nipples made your head drop back. You whined a little, that familiar, yet longing feeling you hadn't experienced in a while was making itself known deep within you.

His hot breath was fanning against your skin, and Paul asked you in the most delicate tone, a simple, yet effective, "May I?" And all you could do was nod to him.

You whined again when Paul's lips made contact with your breast, his left hand kneading the other carefully as his right squeezed your side in affection. You slid your hands up through his hair, and you felt him moan against your left nipple as his other hand rolled your right one between his fingers.

You both had to try your best to keep on the quieter side since it was so late; and no one else should have known what you two were doing. Unfortunately, Paul's... handiwork... wasn't anything to be quiet about.

"Paul," you choked out, tilting your head up a little, and he removed his mouth from your nipple to look you right in the eyes.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you nodded your head rather frantically, spurring him to get right back to work, but switching sides, lips and tongue teasing your right breast as your left now gained the attention of his fingers.

Your knees fell away from one another as you tilted your head back again, breath ragged as Paul worked his magic. You felt his hand slide down your waist to drag along the band on your pyjama bottoms, but he was in no rush to tell you to take them off.

His hand actually continued to slide down to your thigh, and he squeezed you gently as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, and you rolled your hips against his body on reflex, choking out another whine as you tugged at his hair a little harder. He smiled with a pleasant hum before pulling his mouth away from your body.

You huffed at the cool air hitting your wet breasts, but he placed another warm kiss on your lips, one of his hands holding the back of your neck, and your discomfort faded away almost instantly. His other hand was still on your thigh, but slowly trailing back up to the waistband on your pyjama bottoms.

Paul deepened the kiss just for a moment as his finger hooked into the band. When you both separated again, he rested his forehead against yours, heavy eyes opening to look at you.

"Isn't it about time these go, too?" There was something so carnal about his words, yet they still held an abundant amount of respect for you, and your comfort; and, dear God, it turned you on so badly.

You didn't even respond to his question. You just removed your hands from his hair so you could support yourself from the mattress from your elbows, raising your hips off the bed a little so he could pull the rest of the clothes off your body. You watched as Paul did just that, your bottoms relinquished to the pile of clothes building off to the side, your legs not so spread apart anymore.

It looked as if he were in a trance, hands on your thighs as he examined your nude body in fascination. You watched him watch you, still propped up on your elbows, and you felt almost embarrassed under his gaze until he mumbled, fingers kneading into the tense muscles on your legs, "perfect. Absolutely perfect."

You blushed as he tenderly spread your legs open, unhurriedly, and he groaned at the sight of just how wet you were for him.

"Oh, Darling..."

Your face felt so hot, especially when you watched him lick those damned lips of his again.

"I want to taste you, you look so damn sweet." His thumbs continued to massage between your thighs, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter. You felt like you needed to return the favour.

"I... Did you want me to--"

"No," Paul interrupted lightly with a simple shake of his head. It was like he read your mind. "Keep moaning, keep pulling my hair. Those beautiful noises you're making have me feeling the best kind of way right now."

Every word he said contributed to enhancing the pit of arousal you were feeling within, and you were almost speechless. No one had ever spoken to you that way before, not even your ex, the one with whom you felt you shared your most intimate moments with. But after what had already happened in that room, between you and Paul, comparing them was out of the question.

You could feel his breath against your heat, your blood pumping loud in your ears.

"Paul, please..." you whispered, but he just stared at you, fingers still rubbing your thighs.

"Please what, Lovely?" You knew he was doing this on purpose, especially when he rested his head down onto your left leg to give you those alluring puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't give you what you what you want if you don't tell me what it is you need."

Your mouth formed a few shapes without you making a sound. You sighed, breath shaky as you gathered enough composure to groan, "I need your mouth. Please."

"Where?" Paul asked innocently. You were secretly loving the way he was teasing you, but on the other hand, you were beginning to feel desperate for his touch. His left hand reached up towards you, and a single finger rested against the skin between your breasts.

"Here?" He questioned softly, dark eyes watching you as you shook your head. He dragged his finger so painfully slow down your body, stopping at your abdomen to ask again.

"What about here?"

"Please," you were begging him at this point, but Paul continued to take his time, drawing his finger lower, and lower, until he was just above your folds.

"Just little lower," you pleaded to him desperately, and when you finally felt him pull his hand away to hold your thighs apart, you knew he was done playing games with you.

He gave you one more sultry look before dropping his head between your legs, tongue gently lapping away at your arousal, and you cried out his name. He opened his eyes to watch you react from his place as he continued rolling his tongue against you at an even pace.

You lowered your back to the bed, legs instinctively trying to squeeze together at the feeling of Paul's sweet mouth where you needed him most, but he continued to hold a firm grip on your thighs to keep them in place.

His beard scratched at your legs a little, but in the best kind of way. His nose bumped against your clit and your hands found their way back into his mess of locks again, tugging and driving him closer to you. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting a chill up through your body.

He pulled away a little, mouth shining with your arousal, and his eyelashes lowered over his eyes as he mumbled, "Oh, my dear, you taste better than I ever dreamed you would."

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the idea of such a beautiful man dreaming about being between your legs and tasting you, and wanting this had you feeling some kind of way.

"Please, don't stop," you whined gently, and he responded with a quiet laugh.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I'm nowhere near being done with you yet. Don't you worry."

A mix of relief and lust rushed your emotions, and Paul's eyes continued to watch you as he let go of your right leg, hand coming up to his face before putting his middle finger in his mouth.

You stared in anticipation as he pulled his saliva-covered finger out from between his lips before plunging it right into you, and you cried out again, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as you pushed your hips up against his hand.

It was Paul's turn to stare, and you felt him curl his finger inside of you before adding another and repeating the beckoning motion again, free hand pressing your hip down to keep you from moving so much.

"You okay, Lovely?" He asked in a low tone, watching as your body twitched and writhed with everything he did.

"Yes, keep going, Paulie," you whimpered, encouraging his hand to quicken before he dipped back down, lips wrapping around your nub, and all you could see were stars. Your hips rocked up again, and Paul released your waist a little to let you squirm around.

"Paulie, I'm gonna..." you stumbled over your words as you felt your orgasm nearing quickly, your hands balled into tight fists in his hair still. One more finger curl was all he had to do before you released all over them with a cry. You mumbled nonsensical speech as Paul pulled back a little and admired his achievement, your arousal dripping down his hand as he let you ride it out.

"That's it, do whatever makes you feel good, my angel." His praise was addicting, your eyes rolled back as you revelled in this state of euphoria. It wasn't long before your hips fell back onto the bed, and you sighed out when Paul removed his fingers from you.

You took a moment to fixate your gaze on him. His pupils were blown, staring at you in the face with his lips parted. You relieved some of the tightness in your fists so you weren't gripping his hair so hard, mumbling a whispered apology for being so harsh with that.

Paul responded to you, not with words, but by stalking up your body slowly, silently, as a predator would to its prey; and he pressed a kiss to your mouth, tongue pushing its way past your teeth so you could taste yourself.

You groaned, sitting up slowly as to not break the kiss. You reached down towards the belt wrapped around his hips, undoing it blindly and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. You needed him, and he was strained so tightly in those trousers, you knew it couldn't have been comfortable for him. You parted from the kiss, but keeping the distance close between you two.

"Are you positive you don't want me going down on you?" Your question seemed as innocent as if could have been, and Paul just smiled a little with another head shake.

"Baby girl, as long as you're getting off, so am I."

You hummed at his response. You hoped he wouldn't quit with the pet names. Your eyes glanced down to the jeans you were in the middle of taking care of, and Paul was already popping the button off them.

His eyes trailed back up to your face before he put his palm innocently over your heart, pushing you down onto your back again.

"Just lean back and relax, my sweet thing. You just stay there and look pretty while I take care of you. Make you feel good."

You watched him from your lying position as he moved to stand by the foot of the bed, dropping his jeans to the floor after wiping his hands off on them before he turned back to you. His stare didn't seem all that possessive and dark anymore like it had been during foreplay.

He was looking at you with a type of sincerity that brought warmth to your soul.

You were under a spell, unable to disengage from his stare, even when he climbed back onto the bed, and spread your legs apart again. He briefly looked away from you to position his cock properly, and you watched the concentration on his face morph into mild enjoyment as he circled the head around your pussy teasingly.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your legs crossed around his waist, and he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Those perfect pink lips of his parted, and he whispered to you with one more squeeze to your thigh, "are you ready?"

Your hands reached out for him, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck as you nodded your head. "I need you, Paul, Please."

"Don't worry, my Love. I'll give you exactly what you need."

And with an unhurried push of his hips, he was inside of you, and the most beautiful sound escaped his lips, in limbo between a moan and a whine, and the look on his face was blissful, eyes shut and mouth hanging open at the feeling of you.

You let out a deep, concentrated, pleasing sigh. It hadn't been forever since you last had sex, but it was definitely long enough. The stretch from his member filled you up in the greatest way; and Paul took it real slow for you.

"Fuck, you're so wet. So tight," he mumbled under his breath, exhaling deeply with every roll of his hips. His eyes drifted back open to watch your face, lowering his brow and whispering to you, "my Love, you promise to tell me if I'm ever hurting you?"

Your face flushed red at his words, and you nodded a little.

"Yes, Paulie. Absolutely." Your quiet response was uttered though little moans, a hint of emotion laced in your voice.

You were partial to that specific nickname. You felt you maybe liked it too much, but there was no denying that responding to it felt so right, and Paul, you felt, seemed to think regarding you that way was okay, as well. It made you feel like you were actually wanted, and you'd be lying if you didn't say you hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

Paul leaned down, arms on either side of your head as he kissed your lips, and you kissed back, fingers unclasping so you could once again run your nails along his scalp and through his hair. He groaned at the attention, rocking a little deeper now, and you pulled away from the kiss to whine at Paul's actions.

You arched your back as his movements sped up, and you could hear his breaths quickening as he settled on a steady pace. One of his hands slid in under your back to hold you closer, and he dropped his head into the cook of your neck.

He started placing kisses along the side of your throat, and then on your collarbone. "You have no idea... fuck... how long I've waited for you." He mumbled those words against your skin, and your conscience shot right awake from its besotted trance as you hyper-focussed on his words.

"I have been dreaming about this for so many nights... for so many years..."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sure, you'd known Paul for a while, but never in your life did you think he was even remotely attracted, to you let alone actively fantasizing about the very moment you were both experiencing.

Your chest burned, intensely aware that as soon as this night was over, this feeling of togetherness, intimacy, and affection was going to die out like a candle flame, and you were going to be alone all over again. Your eyes were glassy with tears as you tried to draw Paul closer, opting to remove your fingers from his hair to wrap your arms around his body.

You began to push your hips back against Paul's, recieving a pleased hum from him. Your hands rubbed tenderly over the hot skin on his back as he continued to pour his heart out to you, breaking yours more with every word that left his mouth.

"My sweet Love; to think I've wanted you for so long... and now I have you. I'm the luckiest fucking guy in the world."

"Paul," you whimpered, head resting up against his shoulder as tears streamed down your cheeks from your eyes. You weren't entirely sure what came over you, but before you could even think, you were whispering to him, "please don't leave me."

"Never. My Love, I'll always be right here." His response was so effortless, and quick, and your ears seemed to be ringing again. He put his other hand at the back of your head, pulling you in closer as your bodies continued to rock together.

You could feel another orgasm nearing, and Paul must have known from the sounds coming from your mouth. He pulled his arm out from under your back to reach between the both of you, thumb toying with your clit as you cried out again, hips jerking harder and quicker against him, his own pace stuttering as he could feel the walls of your heat contracting against him.

"I-- I'm gonna..." you choked, and Paul rubbed between your legs even faster.

"Come undone, my Love," he encouraged weakly as he tried his best to keep going for you. You dropped your head back against the pillows and you cried out as another orgasm rushed you, more tears falling down your cheeks, as you returned to that feeling of ecstasy you were in only minutes before.

Paul leaned up, forehead and chest shining with sweat as he continued to pound into you, long hair matted against his skin as his pace fell apart, shuttering as he pulled out of you and came all over your stomach.

His head fell back, eyes falling shut as he called out your name, cum leaking out of him and all over you, but you were far from caring. His breaths were heavy as he gasped for air, and after a moment of allowing the both of you to come down from the high, he slumped back onto his arms, head rolling to the side so he could open his eyes and look at the mess he made of you.

"Oh, Love, I'm sorry about all that. Let me just..." Paul took another deep breath before rolling himself off the bed, wandering on wobbly legs towards the connected bathroom. You could hear the faucet running for a moment as you stared directly up at the ceiling, beginning to wake your body up with a little wiggle your toes.

That was, without any doubt, the best sex you'd had in your life. And as Paul returned to you, two damp cloths in-hand, you figured the intimacy was over; that you'd clean yourself up and be kicked out of the room.

But when he took a seat at the foot of the bed again, and he reached up to your tummy to wipe his ejaculation off your skin, you found yourself falling into another daze.

The cloth was warm, and Paul took his time sliding it over you to clean you up, not a single word coming from his mouth. When he felt he cleaned your stomach well enough, he reached for the other cloth, wiping the sweat gingerly off your neck, and chest.

Every move was calculated, and even when he moved to wipe up the mess between your legs, he was careful of how sensitive you were, free hand caressing your thigh while he remained largely focused on cleaning you up.

You felt the assault of tears burning your eyes again as you watched Paul tend to you, and when he looked up to your face and realized your expression, his own fell to one of worry.

"... you okay?"

You nodded your head weakly, that was until you felt him squeeze your leg again. Your bottom lip began to tremble, and your hands came up to your face as you sobbed into your palms.

"Hey, hey, Darling, what's the matter?"

Paul even sounded worried, climbing up the mattress to be closer to you. You curled up into a little ball on your side, and Paul put his hand on your arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort you.

"I... I..." you didn't want to tell Paul necessarily what you were feeling, because then that would have meant telling him you enjoyed him a little too much. More than you thought was maybe appropriate.

"Please talk to me, tell me what I can do to make this all better," he begged, and you took a while to respond to him.

"Hold me," you whimpered, and Paul, without another second passing, swept you up in his arms, cradling you as you sat in his naked lap. His right arm circled your back as his left coaxed your head onto his shoulder before he began stroking your hair.

Your arms lazily circled around him as you cried into his shoulder, and Paul pressed his lips into a line, tears of his own threatening to fall.

"Did hurt you? Did I do something wrong, Love?"

"Please don't think that," you choked back. "You did everything so right. And that's the problem."

Paul's eyebrows, which were knit together in frustration and confusion, began to relax at the realization of your words. You both knew you were going to have to elaborate a little more at one point, but Paul didn't pry. He just continued to stroke your hair and rock you, soothing you of your negative emotions.

You pulled your head away from the crook of his neck eventually, and you looked Paul in his sweet, doe eyes. "You're so kind. Too kind," you sniffled. "Half of me wants to actually listen to the words you said, but it hurts too much. After what he did to me..."

You thought back to your ex for a moment. That slimy, cheating bastard.

"I can't even pretend to believe someone would love me like that again, because he stripped me of all that trust."

Paul seemed a little hurt at your words, taking a moment to decide what he was going to say next.

"... You don't have to believe it now, but I know everything I said to you was the truth."

You felt your bottom lip quiver again, and he pulled his hand from the back of your head to cup your face.

"Everything. Even when you asked me not to leave. I can't be certain you were being serious about that, but I want you to know that I'm serious. I won't leave you if you don't want me to."

You couldn't help but tilt your head into his touch as your red eyes drifted closed. He placed a kiss on your temple, mumbling into your skin, "please believe me when I say I did have some doubts about all of this. But having you here, in my arms right now... I have never felt so sure about anything in my life. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again."

"But how can I be so sure?" Your question was barely above a whisper, and Paul held you tighter, and closer.

"You've occupied a special place in my heart for a long while, now. If anything were to try and hurt you, and I'm there to protect you, I'd be doing everything in my power to keep you safe."

You could feel Paul turn your head towards him, and you opened your eyes.

"I know our last relationships didn't end well. I know we're still hurting from the past... But you make me so happy. Like I have something worth living for, and can think about the future without wanting to look back at the pain I'm wanting to desperately leave behind."

You had more emotions stirring in your heart again, but they were ones that made you feel fuzzy inside.

"... Would it be so wrong of me to tell you I feel the same way about you?" You asked him carefully. You couldn't believe how poetic he could be just talking to you. He had all the right words to say at any given time.

"Absolutely not," he replied easily, one of the corners of his mouth twitching at the relief that the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

You reached up to cup his face, thumb drifting against his beard as he leaned in to kiss your mouth. And you let him. It wasn't to initiate anything, only to project affection unto you.

He pulled away after a moment, breathing a quiet "Please, Darling, stay with me, tonight."

You smiled sadly at his request, but you shook your head a little. "What about Rich? He's gonna find out everything." That was another nail in the coffin, Paul decided, he needed to pry out.

"Well, he's just going to have to deal with the fact that I need you," he responded matter-of-factly, and your heart ached at that.

"I don't think you have any idea just how long I've restrained myself from talking to you, let alone flirt or try anything with you. I used to care so much about what Ringo thought, but all that matters now is you."

Paul removed his hand from your cheek to caress yours holding his own face. He pulled your hand off so he could kiss your fingertips, smiling just a little to try and encourage one on your own face.

"It's just us now. No one else. Okay, my Love?"

All you could seem to do was nod your head, but that appeared to be enough for him. He gave you one more peck and a little hand squeeze before sighing. "Let's splash some water on your face and get us ready for bed, hm? I don't know about you, but the last ten minutes have been an absolute workout for me."

You blushed a little when Paul sent a wink your way, but you shifted off his lap and stood up, as did he. He took your hand in his again and guided you to the bathroom, and as you wet your face with the water under the faucet, he tossed the damp face cloths in the laundry bin next to the toilet.

His attention was back on you, and he tucked your hair back behind your ear, placing a kiss under your earlobe. You smiled a little at the gesture as you watched him through the mirror, turning the faucet off and dabbing your face dry with the towel on the counter. Paul settled another kiss at the crook of your neck, and then one on your shoulder.

"You feel any better?" He asked lowly, his words vibrating against your skin. You held back a chuckle by biting your bottom lip, setting the towel back down next to the sink.

"A little, yeah."

"As long as the answer isn't no, I can live with that." He smiled at your reflection, arms wrapping around your body as he kissed your shoulder one more time. You placed your hands overtop his, which were planted on your hips.

"C'mon, now," he whispered, one of his hands unraveling rom your body to drift to the small of your back and leading you back out into the bedroom. He left you briefly to pop the window open a little, and you climbed in under the covers, him following suit just a few seconds after.

You rolled to your side to look at Paul, and he did the same, propping up on his elbow and dropping his head in his hand, other arm reaching out so he could cup your face again. He looked so happy, having you so close to him. It was such a contrast to how you found him earlier that night, and the difference made you feel rather glad you were still awake at such a late hour.

"Thank you for everything tonight," he offered gently. "The drinks we shared, the dancing, the intimacy, for letting me confess everything to you, for staying... thank you for being you."

"Aww, why can't I say anything that romantic and poetic to you?" You whined a little, and Paul laughed gently, his hand drifting down to squeeze your arm lovingly.

"Y'know, there will be so much time in the future for you to woo me."

"If I can learn to be as quick on my feet as you, perhaps," you argued back playfully, shifting forward a little so you could curl up into Paul's chest. His hand dropped to your spine so he could pull you in a little closer, thumb rubbing gently against your skin.

"You'll get there, Lovely. Sweet dreams." You hummed a little as your eyes fell shut, the feeling of Paul's thumb caressing you, and the sound of the trees rustling in the wind outside, as well as the rise and fall of Paul's chest had you lulling to sleep in no time. He, on the other hand, remained awake for a long while, holding you close to him as if it were his only purpose in life.

He wasn't worried about anything anymore; not even about whether Ringo would find out about the both of you before either of you planned... Despite leaving the evidence of two alcohol glasses still sitting pretty on the coffee table in the den for him to find first thing that next morning.

Paul eventually fell asleep as well, arms enveloping you from the cool night air seeping in from the window leading outside. His heart was feeling fuller than it ever had before, and it was all because of you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations, I haven't written anything NSFW in YEARS, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Don't forget to like and comment, I love reading the comments on these :')

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[maskedtruths666]

Short story! Have not decided if this will be a one part or two part series yet. THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY

Summary: 4 characters in this story. The girl in green, Shermaine, is your cousin. The girl in blue, Glenda, is your girlfriend. Shermaine is in a long distance relationship with her boyfriend from America and her boyfriend, Gabriel, has insecurity issues and always has a problem with how close you are to your cousin. Fun fact, Shermaine and Glenda are best friends since Primary school and Shermaine introduced Glenda to you. This story then becomes a foursome/hate fuck story of a forced nature.

Shermaine and Max have been together for about a year now and they met whilst Max was on exchange over here in Singapore. TLDR, they got together and are now in a LDR. Shermaine has a killer body and loves to drink and party. Max on the other hand, whilst also fit, is a major introvert and has anxiety and insecurities. He’s some what of a cuck and he would imagine his gf cheating on him with other guys as she’s horny 24/7. However, Shermaine, despite how horny she is, would only use sex toys to pleasure herself.

Glenda and you have been together for about 6 months now. The 3 of you constantly party together, hang out, work out and study together. Basically, the 3 of you are inseparable. This drove Max crazy, especially when he sees pictures of you 3 partying, drinking and basically having fun together. Max always argued with Shermaine over this issue but shermaine has always brushed it off saying how you’re her cousin and they’ve always been this way since young.

Fast forward to Chinese New Year, Max flew to Singapore to surprise Shermaine. However, totally unaware of this surprise, Shermaine, Glenda and you were at a MBS staycay. Late into the night, Shermaine received a video call from Max. Despite being high from all the alcohol, she could still figure out that Max just touched down in Singapore. He cabbed over to MBS where he could finally embrace shermaine.

When you and Glenda returned to the staycay room after a smoke break, you walked into the room only to find Max and Shermaine making out.

“Oh get a room you two.” Glenda cheekily said.

“Apologies for dropping by unannounced. I’m Max.” Max introduced himself to you and Glenda.

“Yeah we know all about you. Keep it in your pants, let’s head out for a couple more drinks.” you said as you lead the way out of the room.

“Let us freshen up first and change our dresses.” Shermaine said.

“Alright alright. Make it quick.” you replied.

As the girls were in the bathroom giggling and possibly taking nude pictures of each other, you and Max were outside and it was awkward.

“Hey, you’ve never done anything inappropriate with Shermaine have you? I understand you’re her cousin and all but you’ve gotta admit she’s got a hot body and a killer ass.” Max said.

“Oh dude, I fuck Shermaine and my girlfriend on a daily basis together.” you replied sarcastically, mocking Max who somehow believes you.

“Oh dude, come on, I’m kidding. Relax, ain’t nothing ever happened between me and Shermaine. I grew up with her. Underneath the make up and all. She’s not that pretty anyway.” you replied, hastily, annoyed at how easily Max gets triggered.

The four of you headed to the bar and had a few drinks too many. Soon, the four of you stumbled back into the hotel. Wanting to go for a smoke break, Shermaine and you headed out to the balcony for a quick smoke break whilst Glenda was in the toilet. As you and Shermaine were smoking outside, Glenda stumbled into the room and was just casually chatting with Max.

Max, with all this pent up sexual tension and frustration in him, went up to Glenda and dragged her off the chair and made her kneel down. With one hand he dragged her to the sliding door and with the other, he locked the door from the inside.

Both you and shermaine turned around to see Max forcing his massive 9 inch dick into Glenda’s mouth and Glenda was helpless to resist.

“Ugh, fuck. You certainly can take a long dick better than Shermaine. She always chokes. You are taking it well.” Max grunted as he was face fucking Glenda who was helpless.

Uno reverse it seems. You were being cucked by Max a who was gleefully face fucking Glenda. Both you and Shermaine were shocked but also turned on.

“Bro, I’m going to fuck you once. Just to get back at Max. Don’t tell anyone in our family or I will kill you. Make it seem as if you’re raping me.” Shermaine said with a glint in her eyes.

Without hesitation, you forced Shermaine onto her knees and out popped your massive thick throbbing dick. You shoved it into Shermaine’s mouth and treated her like an ordinary fuck toy. With all the pent up sexual tension from watching another man fuck your girlfriend, you decided to furiously fuck shermaine’s mouth.

Max upon seeing Shermaine being used like a common whore, gave Glenda a tight slap across the face. The force was so great, she fell to the floor. He turned her around and put her on all fours. One swift motion and he removed Glenda’s thong. Whilst he was fingering her pussy which was already wet, he stopped to admire her bubble butt which was comparable to Shermaine’s. Her pulled her hair back and grunted, “I want you to watch your boyfriend fuck your best friend whilst I destroy your pussy.” Without warning, Max thrusted into Glenda’s pussy.

“Ugh fuck. Please stop. You’re too big. You’re tearing me apart. Please stop.” Glenda begged as Max was viciously thrusting into her.

“Ugh, your pussy is so tight. I’m going to ravage you all night in front of them.” Max said as he was thrusting in and out of Glenda and forcing her to watch you and Shermaine.

In retaliation, you did the same. You went to town on Shermaine in the exact same position that Max was ravaging Glenda. As you penetrated Shermaine, you felt extreme pleasure. It was so wrong but it felt so right. As you watch Max defile your precious girlfriend, you were enjoying the tightness and wetness of Shermaine’s pussy. The forbidden pussy felt so good. Shermaine on the other hand, was enjoying it as well.

As Max and you were pounding the respective pussies as if they were sex toys, the two girls slowly developed a liking to it. Max was considerably rougher on Glenda. The more you saw Glenda being defiled by Max, the more it turned you on. You responded in kind by roughly groping Shermaine and thrusting in harder and harder.

As the two girls were being pounded like common street whores, with each guy trying to one up the other, all four of them felt extreme pleasure. The girls were mercilessly pounded with each guy thrusting in harder and harder and the guys were experiencing a different pussy than they’re accustomed to.

Soon, Max decided to unlock the door. The four of them went to the bed. The guys, as if in sync, put their fuck meats on the bed side by side. Both girls by now were catching their breath. The guys were staring at their fuck meats in all of their glory and as they were ready for a second round, they spread their legs wide open and penetrated from the front. Max could not help but stare at Glenda’s bouncing tits as he was thrusting deep into Glenda and likewise, you could not stop staring at Shermaine’s glorious tits bouncing to the rhythm of your thrusts. The girls, could only hold hands with each other as they were mercilessly ravaged.

After awhile, Max and you decided to switch fuck meats. As you switched back to your usual pussy, something felt off. It was way looser than you normally had. As you were thrusting into your own girlfriend, Max was viciously pounding Shermaine harder and harder.

He roughly choked her as he ravaged her pussy so hard and fast that shermaine barely had time to breathe. He was filled with rage and jealousy that another man had been in her pussy. As he was tearing apart her pussy with his hard and fast thrusts, he growled at her, “Did you miss my dick? Tell me, who fucks you better?”

Barely able to respond, Shermaine said in a voice that was mixed with both pleasure and pain, “You daddy.”

He then turned shermaine around to penetrate her doggystyle and that’s when things got rougher. He grabbed her ass tightly and with each thrust, he smacked it until it was so red.

Upon seeing Glenda’s own body being used and abused by Max earlier on, it awoken something primal in you. As of now, you’re not fucking your own gf. You’re fucking a fuck toy. Made to pleasure you and all your carnal desires. The harder you fucked your own gf, the rougher you got. Chokes got longer, smacks got harder, positions you put your own gf into were made solely for your own pleasure. You did not care if she was in pain or in pleasure. As you were viciously fucking Glenda, you didn’t realize she kept whimpering and slowly started crying. In that fucked up state you were in, seeing how she has already been abused and used by Max, you could not keep it in. The image of her being fucked so hard and yet still enjoying it, drove you to the edge. With a couple of hard and fast thrusts into your fuck toy, you controlled your orgasm until the very last second.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ah fuck.” You grunted as you unleashed your largest cum shot all over her face. The load was so big it dripped to her cleavage.

As mental clarity and rationality returned to you, you realized what you had done. You quickly cuddled your gf and kissed the parts that were red and bruised.

Max himself, was already reaching his climax. As he stretched Shermaine wide with his enormous cock, he pounded her a few more times before he totally pulled out of her. In a sick move, he pushed you aside, grabbed Glenda, positioned her properly in doggy position, grabbed her hair backwards so that she’s looking directly at you. He rammed his thick and throbbing cock into her pussy. As he gave her a few more thrusts into her pussy, you could see the shock in Glenda’s eyes but his cock was too good. Her shock soon turned to pleasure and with a final hard thrust, he unleashed a huge load into Glenda’s pussy. Glenda orgasmed alongside Max, leaving both you and shermaine horny and angry.

DM ME IF YOU WANT A CONTINUATION OF THIS!

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made of Glass ch.2

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. Slow burn. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support., you don't know how much it means to me all of this comments, likes, regblogs, I'm so happy you guys like the story.

The weight of memories can be quite overwhelming and Wanda and R are going to face this soon enough. This chapter will have some old memories, and some thinking America does in regards to this world and her previous one. Just the begining of a confrontation between Wanda and R. This chapter is long, so do tell me if you prefer them short, or any other request.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

Chapter 2

The weight of memories

“Wanda.”

It was a name you hoped to never pronounce ever again.

You still remembered the last time your spoke it out loud and it was the day your heart broke into a million pieces, and your soul was shattered and submerged in darkness for a very long time. Yelena stood by your side, her eyes opening wide in realisation while her gun lifted slightly firm on her hand while her eyes sought out Natasha who was standing at the other end of the hall furrowing her brows while she had her attention on you.

The tension was palpable around the house, you could not take your eyes off of Wanda while the young witch couldn’t stop looking at you. She stood frozen in time and space, her eyes taking into your figure that filled out your young adult body into a more mature one. Your hair around your shoulders with a side bang and an undercut made you looked beautiful, and Wanda felt her heart ached at the memories seeing you brought to her mind.

“Y/N.”

Your name sounded like a prayer, and you hated the fact her voice deeper and raspier, sent shivers down your back. You straightened up getting your emotions under control, your whole body tensing up while Yelena stepped forward in a protective gesture. Wanda scowled at this, though she didn’t dare to say or do nothing as she waited for you to do something.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” Yelena broke the silence lifting her gun to Wanda. “Do I shot her or we’re going to keep gaping at one another until we get tired?”

You clenched your jaw, finally breaking the spell those green eyes had you in. Wanda dropped her hand pressing her lips together, Natasha stepped forward until her eyes found yours and she knew something must be done before you did something you would regret.

"Putain qu'est-ce qu'elle fout ici?" The accent rolled out of your lips, strong and icy, breaking Wanda just a little when you walked past her without even looking back.

Natasha shrugged tearing her eyes away from you to Wanda, “n'a pas eu l'occasion de la battre. Et tu n'as pas pris tes téléphones avec toi.”

didn’t get a chance to beat it out of her. And you didn’t take your phones with you.”

Yelena winced just remembering that had been her fault, she followed you closed behind enjoying the broken stare from Wanda while shooting curious glances to America who had been watching everything with big, shocked eyes. You stood side by side with Natasha, knowing Wanda had her eyes on you probably wondering when you learned French, wondering if you and Natasha had spent a lot of time together. No, she probably didn’t even care about that, she probably was coming over to ask for a favour.

Your fists clenched while your body trembled and your lungs filled with air. You needed to get out of there, you needed to run…

"Y/N…" This time around there was a pleadingly tone behind your name, Wanda stepped forward until your blackened eyes met hers and she clamped her mouth shut.

You tried to hold onto your powers while everything came crashing down on you, at that moment you knew that Wanda was still someone that could affect you greatly and that made you hated yourself and her all over again.

"Don't."  You said through gritted teeth. "Just don't."

And then you disappeared into the kitchen with Yelena following closed behind, her eyes glaring directly at Wanda while her gun rested comfortably on her hand. Wanda felt her lower lip quivered; her eyes filled with tears when something inside her broke with piecing through her very soul. America stood there not understanding your anger but feeling wounded by your indifference, trying to remember herself that you were not the one she had known once…

This Y/N Y/L/N was so…so broken, so…not you. Not the woman she had met, not the one she had…

America dared to look at Wanda who had silent tears on her cheeks, her eyes gleaming with confusion and sadness while her whole body seemed to hold her back.

Natasha pursed her lips shaking her head, “I try to warn you, Wanda. You need to leave.”

“I can’t.” Wanda all but whispered, she lowered her eyes to the ground trembling while trying to hold onto her sanity. “I need to…I need her…”

As soon as those words left her mouth she cringed, Natasha made her way to her in a second and the young witch felt for the very first time the fear Natasha stirred on her targets. There was nothing kind or goofy, or even mischievous in the way she was staring down at Wanda, not on the cold smile adorning those red lips.

“You need to take care of your words, Wanda. And you will need to think better as to how you want to approach this because you are not wanted in here. Not now, not ever.” Natasha threatened lowly. “This time around, I won’t let you break her the way you did once. So, better watch what you say or get lost, Maximoff.”

There was a loud bang coming from the kitchen, Natasha sighed turning around making her way to the noise leaving Wanda and America alone. America never thought that finding you would turn out to be such a disaster, that the wounds were so deep that this really seemed like a bad idea.

The young woman didn’t know where it came from, not why she was so inclined to do so but soon she had her arms wrapped around Wanda trying to offer a comfort neither one of them felt at the moment. Wanda stood frozen for a moment before returning the embrace, comfort washing over her at having America there. It was familiar, yet so different from her boys, but it worked just the same.

"I'm not sure what happened but…" America trailed off. "Everything is so mess up in this place, we don't need them. There must be another way."

Wanda tried to smile, she tried to explain to America there wasn't any other way and that actually, even if it hurt, she kind of deserved the treatment. 

"I didn't know Y/N was such an ass in this universe…" America started talking without thinking.

"I'm pretty sure I have the same ass in all universes." Your voice startled her and Wanda that soon had her face lifted to yours, her green eyes gleaming with the unshed tears and the regret she had carried with her ever since that fateful day.

America straightened up facing you with defiance in her stance, you raised a single eyebrow observing the young woman the same way she seemed to be doing. America could see the traces of the you she had come to know and love, yet there was a deep sadness and anger that she was not familiar with. America’s dark eyes drifted to Yelena and Natasha, both women standing by your side.

You couldn’t help the curving of your lips, this young woman whoever she was held power alright, but also an attitude born out of her teenage years than anything else. You held her eyes for a moment before directing them to Wanda, the witch stood there a simple shadow of the woman full of confidence you had known once.

Wanda’s life had not been easy, and you…you wished you could have ease that pain away.

Weak.

“I don’t remember you being this much of an asshole back in another place,” America stated making a face. “At least, not with Wanda.”

You lifted an eyebrow at that, your eyes narrowing slightly. 

"Another place?" You pursed your lips tilting your head to the side, Natasha nodded curtly and you smirked. “Another universe…I think you have travelled all the way to Norway for nothing, kid. If you’re looking answers about the possibility of multiverse travelling you should go to Tony, Bruce and even Hank. I know nothing about other lives, other universes…other Wanda.”

Wanda winced slightly lowering her gaze before taking a deep breath, she should have planned this meeting better because right now she was losing control of what she came to ask for. Of what she needed with urgency. America scowled at your words, she was about to speak when a hand placed itself on her shoulder and Wanda stepped forward.

“We don’t need to know about this kind of travels, America knows more than they do.” Wanda hated the trembling in her voice, she cleared her throat while trying to speak ignoring your glare and that of Natasha and Yelena.

“We have come all the way to Norway because America needs protection.” This time around Wanda was proud to find her voice, firmer and demanding, trying to take the strength she needed to face you and this conversation. “Someone out there, someone extremely powerful, is looking to take her powers…”

Wanda trailed off when her eyes caught the trembling shadows around you, she clenched her eyes shut knowing she had said the wrong thing.

“After ten years, you come here to my house…to ask for my help?” There was a hint of hurt in your voice, and you hated the fact that a part of you was hoping this meeting would have a different goal.

But of course, Wanda Maximoff would have never dare to look you out if it wasn’t for the fact she needed your help. She had tried it before, and that resulted in you fighting Steve and cutting ties with him until Thanos. The only difference was this time around she came personally instead of sending someone on her behalf.

Wanda stirred wanting nothing more than to turn around and leave, but she held her ground stepping forward locking your eyes with hers.

“Not me, Y/N, her.” Wanda said pointing towards America. “She really needs our help.”

America scoffed at those words; she knew they were coming all the way to Norway looking for you because your special ability would help them cloak their presence. But she was not about to beg, and she most certainly didn’t like the fact Wanda was so affected by this meeting, that her voice held a hint of pleadingly in there. America had been hopeful when she heard your name back in Kamar-Taj, and now…it hurt. It hurt seeing this variant of yourself. So hurt and so bitter.  

Wanda clenched her jaw, her eyes flashing angrily when Natasha came closer to you with her hand placed tenderly on your lower back. You straightened up concealing your real thoughts about the whole situation, you were not about to give Wanda the satisfaction of reading how you were really feeling.

America huffed stepping forward, her fists clenched tightly at her sides while she couldn’t help the tears forming in her eyes.

“We don’t need their help, Wanda.” Here she turned to the redhead that was directing her eyes to America. “It is quite obvious we’re not welcome, and I thought Y/N would be a real hero in this place. But we don’t deserve this treatment, you don’t deserve it!”

“You should watch your mouth, kid.” This time around it was Yelena the one who spoke. “It’s quite obvious your dear Wanda has not told you the whole story. But I’m pretty sure I can fill in the blank spaces and I’m pretty sure there is still a tape…”

This time around you and Wanda winced at the mention of a tape, Natasha shook her head but Yelena was not over. She stepped forward sending a withering glance at Wanda.

“You dare coming here after everything, as if nothing had happened.”

“I’m not…I know I have no right…”

“Then, you should leave.” Yelena stood protectively right in front of you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

“Look here, blondie.” America started ignoring the angered gesture by Yelena, “this is between me and her.”

This time around America pointed a finger at you, you stood there glancing around and analysing the situation with Natasha standing closed by. The words from the young woman, America, had made you curious. Other worlds. Other universe. If this was the truth then, what had happened? America seemed to know you, the other you.

They had come for protection, but even if Natasha hated to admit it, Wanda was a powerful witch. Then, what kind of protection?

America seemed hurt, as if you had hurt her personally.

I didn't know Y/N was such an ass in this universe

The tension in your body intensified, Natasha frowned but opted to stand back knowing you were about to decide the right course of action for this situation. You stood forward, your hand on Yelena’s shoulder to stop the bickering going on between her and America. Wanda tried to place her arms to her side, her eyes gleaming strangely as they went to you.

You locked your eyes with hers, and for a moment it was as if you had never stopped looking into those eyes. The memories of the past came rushing in, and once more, you felt the lack of air around you. You broke the stare with a scowl, then your eyes were on America and the young woman lifted her face in defiance.

“Tell me, kid, what would my other variant do in such a predicament as this one?” You hated yourself for the question, because even if you didn’t show it, even if no one else knew what you were thinking, you had already decided what to do.

America furrowed her brows, and you shot her a defiant glare. The young woman thought about the answer, she checked you out slowly while thinking about the you from Supreme's world. How she had loved Wanda beyond anything and anyone America had seen before. How she would be ready to make Wanda happy, to be there for her and the twins. They were the reason why Y/N breathed and woke up every morning. If there was something America was sure of, was that true love, being in love with someone should be like Wanda and Y/N's relationship.

"She would do anything for her. Without a doubt." America replied simply, with honesty, and for some reason when she saw your face and dare to read your eyes she thought perhaps this was the most obvious answer and something you weren’t ready to hear yet.

You stood frozen for a long time, your eyes on America knowing full well Wanda had her eyes on you. You pressed your lips together, lifting your stare to Wanda then going back to America. 

"Make yourself at home, then." You waved your hand turning your back to Wanda and America, "There are empty rooms down the hall leading to the yard."

You crossed eyes with Natasha, knowing full well she would give you shit for this. Yelena pursed her lips following you, giving Wanda one last dirty stare. 

The living room was left in an uncomfortable silence, Natasha tried to conceal her emotions not liking one bit what just happened. Her green eyes went from America to Wanda, the young witch tried to follow you but soon Natasha stood in her way. The tension now was accompanied by the electric charged that was Wanda’s magic.

"Let me show you the place, then. Since apparently you're staying." There was no warm in her voice, and her eyes were as hard as steel.

Wanda clenched her jaw, before trying to control her anger.

“Natasha…”

The Black Widow lifted a hand shaking her head, “you still don’t get it, do you Wanda?”

At this Wanda stiffened, her eyes lost down the hall where you had disappeared with the blond-haired woman. The world around Wanda shook in ways she thought she would never live again; she hesitated before facing Natasha and the other woman gave her an angered stare.

“You don’t have any right to be here, to demand help…to wait for her to do your biding. Not anymore.” Natasha stepped back showing the other hall with her hand. “You’re staying here because regardless of how you broke her, she is still Y/N. Let me show you your room, and that of your protégé. Tomorrow would be another day.”

Wanda opened her mouth to protest but a hand closing around hers stopped her, she tilted her head to see America shaking her head. With a heavy sigh, Wanda nodded not without giving the empty hall one last lingering glance before turning around.

This meeting had been a complete disaster, America felt a deep, dark void in her chest as she saw the people she had loved once crumbled right in front of her. Whatever had happened in this world, it had certainly left scars that had not heal correctly.

America glanced around herself, the pictures and the house itself was a mirror of who you were. And even if there was anger there, if there was pain and everything seemed fucked up at the moment, America had seen the pictures. There was no need for you to keep so many of them with Wanda smiling by your side.

With a plan already forming in her head, America decided it was time for her to repay those who had protected her at some point. To stop being a burden, and start being a hero.

Like you.

Like Wanda.

______________________________________________________________

Night was already falling around the land.

The cold breeze pushed you down for a moment until you reached the valley right in front of your home, the memories you had tried to bury deep inside your soul came right in rushing with everything you had denied yourself for a long time.

At that moment you wished you had taken Wong’s advice and do the memory spell.

Perhaps, like that, you wouldn’t remember her.

Perhaps like that you didn’t have to remember at some point you were happy with her.

You didn’t have to remember how happy you had been to discover it was a secret only you and her shared. It was exciting, it was a game in the midst of such childish love…until…everything crumbled.

Wanda and you were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. You sensed it the moment Wanda reacted adverse to the idea of being out in public, the moment she justified her nights in your bed as curiosity. After three years of relationship, these kinds of comments should have been your warning, this should be enough to let you know something bad was about to happen.

This is what people do in High school and College, right? It’s the same, just…amongst superheroes, there is nothing else in here, you’re my best friend…we’re experimenting.

You had never experimented; you knew you like girls in Kindergarten though at that time you didn’t even know what romantic love was. You just knew that when you grew up you wanted to marry Laura because she was cute, and you like the ponytails she usually wore and she was your best friend in the whole school.

When you reached 12 and discovered your powers, you knew you wanted to marry Natasha Romanoff because she was not only the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, but she was also kind and a bad ass. Besides, she wasn’t as old as she pretended to be, so you still had hoped. 

By the time you became an Avenger, Natasha had become your older sister. And while a part of you would always think fondly of her as your first real crush, it was a line you would never cross. 

Then, came Wanda.

And that was when you knew real love. The romantic kind. The forever kind. The one so many people write about, or sing songs about…she was…Gods, she was everything.

But she wasn’t ready to face her own feelings, who she was and what she was feeling. Wanda spoke of how wrong it was, how normal she was…how while it felt nice, it was nothing more than an experiment amongst friends. And when you tried to confront her, well… She pushed and pushed until it was almost impossible for you to reach out to her, all the while pulling you to her leading you on and on until you were like a lost puppy…

Until you found her with Vision, and then she just broke your heart.

It was a nice game, but it was time to grow up. You could keep playing, but Wanda needed to think about herself, her future and what she really wanted. What was expected of her. A normal life

Normal.

Did you really think this was going to last? Wanda wanted a family, a husband, a dog, kids, a suburban life. She wanted to be a housewife and be NORMAL. The way her fucking sitcoms told her life should be. The way many had told her it should be.

She broke your heart; she destroyed your soul…she messed up with you so bad that you couldn’t bring yourself to fight anymore. You couldn’t touch another without thinking about her. You couldn’t look at anyone else the same way you looked at her…in the middle of all of that, you were a fucking romantic. You believed in the magic of love; you were so fucking naive.

You left the Avengers a couple of days after finding out about her and Vision.

You helped both sides in the Civil War but signed the Sokovia Accords.

You pretended to have a normal life as a teacher in a forgotten city in Norway, while working for both Fury and Tony. Ross never suspected a thing; he never saw right through the house you bought, how you had worked around a big underground rail only for enhanced superheroes wanting to get lost in the world. Because Wanda might have broken a lot of things in you, but she never took away from you your will to do good. To be a hero.

You became a cover. Fury and Maria would come by from time to time and the operation to locate heroes around the world started, as well as the reconstruction of the new Shield. Then, came Natasha with a blond-haired Widow: Yelena. And much like Natasha she became the little sister you didn’t have. You extend your help to them, becoming a step home for those Widows they rescue along the way.

All the while, Wanda lived her perfect normal life on the run, with a machine, pretending that what they had was nothing more than an experiment. Fighting to get the normality she always sought out, sometimes you got news about her and some others…you just begged to not hear anything at all.

Then, Thanos came and you joined the fight.

You were a hero after all, but it was late and you got there in time to see Wanda crying over the dead body of Vision moments before disappearing. A part of you died that day, and another part came back when she appeared on the battlefield after the second snap. 

When the fight was over, and the funeral came by…You couldn't even look at her without remembering all the pain you had gone through because of her. You decided not saying nothing was better than trying to say something. A part of you was happy and relieved she was alive, that she was well…even if it wasn’t with you.

And then, those fucking tapes…her happily ever after trapped in a world of her own…

She took away your dream. The dream you had for her and not even once did she mention you, never once did she…remember you the way you had done all these years. How was it possible for Wanda to forget you when you couldn’t let go? How dare she to use your dream, the future you had dreamt like that?

Yelena jerked back startled as you let out a scream born out of your soul. The earth under you trembled and the blackness that was your power exploded in a single ray of black towards the sky. 

You clenched your fists thinking that after all this time Wanda Maximoff meant nothing to you. That you had got over her…that you weren’t in love with her anymore.

The tears rolled down your cheeks like rivers, and you fell to your knees letting Yelena wrapped her arms around you. 

“I can kill her; it would look like an accident.” Yelena whispered in comfort, you let out a sloppy laugh shaking your head.

“It’s not worth it, Lena.” You said softly hugging the other woman tightly to you. “I just wished it didn’t hurt; you know? It’s not supposed to hurt anymore…I was supposed to be over her.”

“I can kill her and make it look like an accident.” Natasha came in, her voice deathly serious. 

Yelena and you crossed stares and soon your tears transformed into laughter and you and Yelena fell to the ground under the confused glance from Natasha. You let go laughing, shaking your head while holding onto Yelena.

“You guys…you really are sisters in everything but blood.”

“What’s so funny?” Natasha clicked her tongue impatiently, kicking Yelena playfully while her own eyes gleamed with mirth. “Come on! I wanna know!”

“It’s just…I proposed the same.” Yelena said sitting down still laughing, “I could make it look like an accident.”

“That’s why I love you guys,” You said, offering a real smile. “I wish we could have been lesbians together; it would be so much easier.”

“You’re an idiot.” Natasha rolled her eyes though she decided to sit beside you and Yelena.

“I don’t think you could keep up with us.” Yelena made a face when you wriggle your eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Yelena shivered pushing her hand to you, your laughter filled the valley and the pain diminished some in the company of them. You wiped away the tears on your face, you knew Natasha had her eyes on you and she was waiting for you to say something.

“I guess we will need to hear what they have to say.” You finally said, Yelena frowned but when she was about to protest she found Natasha shaking her head.

“I can ask, she is not the only one with Strange’s phone number on speed dial.” Natasha put her phone from her pocket. “I’m more concerned about the teen. Who is she? What is that about the other you? The dimension?”

You made a sound of agreement, “it sounds far-fetched though…”

You couldn’t shake the words of America when you confronted her back at the house. 

"She would do anything for her. Without a doubt."

Yes, you would have done anything for Wanda. Anything. You even bought the ring she wanted, the housed she dream of…the happily ever after…

“A talking raccoon, a talking tree and a bunch of space idiots tell us this is not impossible.” Natasha replied sardonically. “I know. I’ll speak with him. Don’t do anything stupid.”

You waved your hand at her falling on your back, Yelena pursed her lips still frowning. 

“What is it?” You asked and Yelena shrugged a smirk forming on her lips, one you know pretty well.

“Wanna get waste?” 

You snorted while sitting up, “god, I thought you never ask, let’s go.”

______________________________________________________________

You and Yelena disappeared the rest of the night.

The local bar welcomed you with open arms, and you and Yelena drunk and played around until snow started falling, and the drive back home became far too dangerous. Something you really didn’t care; it gave you the time to think about what had happened in the last couple of hours and organize your thoughts surrounding Wanda.

You knew you couldn’t run forever, sooner or later you would have to face the woman that held your heart in her very hands. You just never thought it would be her the one coming to you, of course, she was here only because she needed it your help. There was nothing else in there, and you hated yourself for daring to hope there could ever be.

The outside world was frozen, you shook your head knowing the snow wouldn’t stop falling anytime soon. Winter was already there and soon the snowstorms would become almost impossible to navigate.  You glanced at Yelena who was mumbling drunkenly at your side, your lips drawn in an amused smile as you decided to get out of the car and take Yelena with you. The house was in complete darkness, and you just hope Natasha was nowhere to be seen or she was going to kill you both.

“Okay, Lena, just…that’s it, take one step at a time.”

"You deserve better," hr words were slurred, filled with emotion as she tried to focus her stare on you. “You’re a nice looking, functional member of society…plus you’re hot.”

You chuckled while opening the door of your home, the lights were off and there was no noise but that of your footsteps and Yelena's talk. 

"Thank you, Lena coming from you is a compliment." 

"I meant it… that… that bitch! The nerveee…" you held back your grin when Yelena tried to straighten up and walk alone. "I'll teach her…" 

"Okay, Little Widow, we're going to lay down, there would be time to teach her a lesson." 

You held the blond woman helping her to the sofa, Yelena frowned, placing a hand in your neck. The movement made you look back at her, and this time around Yelena looked almost sober. 

"You deserve better, you deserve to be happy… but you only want her. It's not fair."

The air left your lungs, a cold shiver went right through your spine at those words. Then Yelena laid down, closing her eyes and you were left pondering these words. It took but a few moments before you went right into the closet to grab some covers, you put them on Yelena scowling still at those words. The truth behind them… 

"So, you guys have fun?" 

You turned around startled having missed the young woman standing by the threshold, America stood there with a glass full of water on her hand. She was glancing at you with curiosity and you have to wonder if perhaps she had heard Yelena’s confession.

"What are you doing so early?" You asked making your way towards her while studying the young woman for a moment. "I thought you kids sleep in until midday."

You went past her, knowing the young woman was following you back into the kitchen. There was a heavy silence filling the place, you were a little unsure about the young woman standing right there, about her words and her claims of being a traveller from another world. About what she had said the day before, those words echoed inside your head, haunting you.

"First of all, I'm not a kid." She was highly offended, you snorted but let her continue. "Second, not all of us sleep in, we don't have the luxury sometimes. And third…" 

America trailed off looking away from your knowing smirk. 

"Third?"  You pressed; the young woman huffed looking away. 

"I just… I couldn't sleep."

You observed the slump on her shoulders, the haunted glint in her eyes and the tension on her lips. You supposed everyone carried on their demons when they were trusted powers they could not understand. And America was looking like a young girl that had been trusted with something she barely knew how to control. Why had they come to you? Why now? 

"Well, since you're here, we may as well make breakfast." You placed your hands on the counter. "Wanna help me out?" 

America perked up at the mention of food, she nodded tentatively still wary of you. She was getting used to this new idea of you, to this new hostility she had never associated with you; America had to remember not all your variants would look the same, even though she was quite certain of what she had said to you the day before. You would have done whatever it took to make sure Wanda was alright.

You had been working around the ingredients for the breakfast, the weight of those dark eyes following you around with curiosity and nostalgia. 

“Very well, do you like pancakes?” You asked out of the blue offering a tired smile to the young woman who merely nodded her head quite surprised at the questions. “Perfect! Then, let’s start, help me with a bowl over there.”

America hesitated for a moment but soon she started following around your instructions while contributing to the making of the breakfast. You were completely focused in the process, from time to time you would whistle a melody that America was not familiar with, but it made her nerves soothe over. There was a sense of familiarity in the whole scene, and soon America found herself yearning for you…for that banter…

"You can ask me, you know?" Seeing the look of confusion in your eyes, America rolled hers. "About the other worlds, about you."

"What makes you think I wanna know?" You couldn't help but ask with some curiosity. 

Were you curious? Yes, of course. After the comment she made the day before, you were really curious to know how your life was in other universes. Were you really happy? Was Wanda less of a coward? Did she break your heart the same way she did there or was that only reserved for the you of this universe?

America shifted slightly, narrowing her eyes she came closer to you shrugging. 

"Once they find out, everyone is curious about their variants." She explained furrowing her brows. "Everyone but you and Wanda."

You tensed at the mention of the other woman, your hands busying themselves with the mixture and the pans on the stove. 

"I'm not fancying knowing I'm the same in another universe." Your replied was quite simple, your eyes trying to keep at bay how you really felt about the whole thing. 

"Things are different, and you are not the same." America replied, shrugging. "You seem happier there."

You stopped what you were doing for a moment, your heart beating fast while the question you wanted to ask danced around your mind. With a stubbornness that had helped you out so far, you continued making the breakfast stopping any stupid question from leaving your lips. 

"I am? Shocking, I guess the butterfly didn't flap the right way on this side of the universe." 

America crunched up her nose, her hand stretching out to get a taste of what you were doing. You patted her hand shaking your head. Your lips curling slightly when you saw America licking her fingers in approval. 

And even if you told yourself you wouldn't ask, that you didn't need to know the question left your mouth before you could censor yourself again. 

"Are we… I mean," You trailed off clenching your jaw before speaking again. "Are they happy there?" 

America pondered the question, her eyes on you for such a long time that you thought she wouldn't answer. 

“You mean you and Wanda?” She asked testing the waters, you snorted shrugging never looking back to America. The teen pursed her lips for a moment thinking about her answer, “They are, they’re …really happy. It’s difficult to imagine…”

“It didn’t work out here?” You retorted, for the very first time America realised there was a huge portion of the story she didn’t know and that, whatever it was, had made you sad. Bitter.

“I guess…is different in every world.” She replied shrugging, it was not supposed to be comforting but it was a reassurance that not everything was done and said just because it happened in another time, in another space. 

“I guess it is.” You worked around the plates and the trays filling them with food, the smell filling up your senses while you tried to forget what America had just revealed. 

“You can be happy still, you know?” America was not really sure why she was saying this, she didn’t owe this people much and yet it felt right. As if this was something she should say, as if she knew you need to hear that. 

“Too late, kiddo. It’s too late in this part of the universe.” You turned to her, trusting a huge tray filled with two plates with pancakes, fruit, tea and syrup. “Now, be a darling and take this to your friend.”

America glanced at the tray with open eyes, everything had been so neatly arranged and the effort you put on the food was quite noticeable. You pretended to be working on something else, you tried to forgo the fact you served breakfast for America because your first instinct was to serve breakfast for Wanda. The way she used to like it.

“Aren’t you going to eat too?” America scrunched up her nose, but you offered a terse smile shaking your head.

“I will take a bath first, you go and make sure your…friend is ready. Today we will speak of the reason you’re here.”

You left before America could say something else, the air you didn’t know you were holding left your lungs slowly as you approached your room. What you really needed was a drink, and a bath. Nothing else.

______________________________________________________________

The morning in this part of the world was grey. It was cold. And it was perfect for how she felt at the moment.

The storm happening right outside her window told her they would not leave the protective walls of the house anytime soon. For a moment, Wanda wondered if you had come back before the storm began, if perhaps you were stranded with the milf Yelena had been talking about. If you were with someone else… 

This whole mess was so unfair. 

Her life had been one mistake after the other, one regret after the other… 

Wanda Maximoff had lost everything she loved. Ever since she was a young girl, it seemed as if her life had been written under a curse line of unfortunate events, of everlasting loses that broke her heart and soul little by little. The powers some thought were a gift had always been a curse, the mark of a monster that cursed everything she touched. 

That was her.

The Scarlet Witch.

Wilder of chaos magic. Like her life.

A tear slid down her cheek, her green eyes contemplating the mountains stretching right before her window. The sound of a river nearby, and the silence in the house was enough to make her get lost in her memories, in her thoughts. The whispers at the back of her mind, the screams of her children asking for help, the last words of Vision just before he left definitely. 

She rested against the window, sitting down on the sofa with her legs to her chest, sleep had not come the night before or the one before that. Once again, she had been thrust into a mission in which her intentions were anything but pure, and she had to face a past she could not forget. Someone she could not…she shouldn’t…

There was a knock at her door, Wanda furrowed her brows just noticing morning had arrived and it was probably Natasha or America wanting to talk to her. With a heavy sigh, Wanda stood up making her way to the door. She was highly shocked the moment she opened the door and saw America balancing a tray that was full and heavy for her to keep steady. 

“I wouldn't mind if you help me?” America smiled sheepishly; it took a second before Wanda went to help the young girl grabbing the drinks in her hand while directing them to the table inside her room. 

America followed her, closing the door behind her biting her lower lip in concentration. Wanda followed her with her eyes until she had settled everything on the table and sat down ready to dig in her own plate. Wanda hesitated for a moment, her body trembling under the sudden intrusion to her time alone, but her eyes softened when she saw the young woman getting settled while fixing everything for the both of them to have a nice breakfast. 

“Did you do all of these?” Wanda finally asked, sitting down in front of the young woman, she tilted her head, watching the form of the pancakes, the syrup, the fruit…everything was familiar. 

“Eh, no, I mean I helped some but…Y/N did all the cooking.” America shrugged, making a sound of pleasure when tasting the pancakes. “And she is good at this stuff! You should taste them, I think she put…”

“...Peanut butter.” Wanda whispered, her eyes dropping to the pancakes. “She…I don’t know how she does it, but she puts peanut butter and…jelly.”

America opened her eyes in realisation, not wanting to disrupt the moment she just continued eating silently while making sure to observe Wanda carefully. The woman in front of her was so different from how Strange had described her, without a doubt América knew she was powerful and that she was capable of great things. But right now she was looking defeated, tired and so miserable America soon realized she had not asked about this. About her and this world, she hadn't had the time while running and fighting for her life…but perhaps, now that they were in hiding could be a good time to get to know this Wanda. To get to know you and understand why the both of you insist on being apart from one another. 

The weight of everything Wanda had lived up until that point came rushing in, her mind a mixture of regrets and thoughts, emotions she longed to forget. 

"Are you okay?" America finally asked, placing the fork on the table, her eyes worrying over Wanda who offered a grimace. 

"I am, we should eat." Wanda sat down going through the motions playing with the food on her plate. 

The young woman sitting in front of her didn't know how to proceed. She wished there was a way to help, that there was something she could do but in all the time she had spent travelling through the multiverse she hardly got more than a couple of days interaction before she moved on. 

"I thought she hated you." America broke the silence, her eyes glancing at Wanda who stiffened at those words. 

Wanda nodded, taking a bite from her food. 

"She does." Wanda confirmed and the words were painful to even pronounce. 

America furrowed her brows, "then why did we come here? I mean, you are powerful as it is and well… with Strange helping out…it's just… you seem really sad, and she was really mean to you. Yet she comes and makes your favourite breakfast. This is really confusing."

Wanda offered a smile at those words; she could see the young woman meant every word with just a hint of concern and indignation on Wanda's behalf. Wanda sighed leaning back in the chair. 

"We need her help, she is not only powerful but the only person I trust more than myself." Wanda felt dirty as those words rolled out if her mouth. "And she has her reason… We have our reason for this. The breakfast is just… breakfast. Nothing else, nothing more."

America didn't really understand, but it was evident whatever was going on around them was enough to create such a breech between them. Which was sad… they really were meant for each other. 

"You two were really happy, you know?" America whispered returning her attention to her food. "At least, that's how it looked like in the other universe…" 

Wanda cocked her head looking away from America to hide her tears. 

"It's too late in this part of the universe, America." Wanda whispered, standing up and moving to the bathroom. 

America sat there finishing her pancake with a frown and musing over her two morning conversations that day. Everyone seemed so adamant that it was too late, but was it? What if there was a chance…?

With some determination, America decided she would play the game this time around she would make sure to make a difference before her powers took her to another place or her invisible hunter caught up with her. 

______________________________________________________________

You let out a groan when the hot water hit your skin. The water rushed down your body, with your eyes closed you tried to shake away the memory of Wanda's eyes, how sad and empty they looked, how defeated she appeared. Life had not been kind to her. 

You wished you could hate her, that she didn't make you feel half the things you were experiencing at the moment. How you wished you could go to her, wrapped your arms around her and tell her everything was going to be fine. 

The shampoo washed away slowly as you massage your scalp, it was too late and the only thing that would come out of that was more pain and you certainly didn't need more of that. It was hard as it was trying to ignore her at Caps funeral, or on the battlefield in the fight against Thanos… 

It was hard trying to just not go to her when she needed help. And now here she was, at your doorstep asking for help. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and your eyes were hiding away the sorrow the memories of Wanda brought. You wished you really hate her, that it wasn't so easy for her to get what she wanted from you. 

But you could never see her like this. Sad defeated… without a purpose. Lost. 

"God, I'm such a fucking idiot."

"I won't discuss that." Natasha was leaning in against the threshold, you glanced at her through the mirror holding back a smile. 

"You know? For shit like this is that everyone thinks we have something?" 

You fixed the towel around your body; Natasha rolled her eyes pointing to the door of your room. 

"Sorry, you left the door open and I could hear you mopping from the other side of the house."

"I wasn't mopping." You replied defensively. 

Natasha snorted falling on your bed, you moved around the room getting dressed while the assassin glared at the ceiling. 

"You're going to help her."

"I am" 

"Even though you don't know what you're getting into." It was a statement; Natasha couldn't hold the reproach from her tone. 

You put a shirt on scratching the back of your neck while leaning against the wall. 

"This is what we do, isn't it? Save the day? Help others?" You held Natasha's glare, both of you knew if Wanda came to you looking the way she did you would do anything for her. 

"I don't want you to get hurt, malysh." The old nickname made you smile. "I was there the first time, remember?" 

Natasha only called you kid when she was really worried about you. You stepped back from the wall laying right beside Natasha. 

"I won't I… I won’t say seeing here didn't shake me up but…" You shrugged. "I can't… either way, it is not as if something would happen, Wanda made it quite clear the last time we spoke."

Natasha hesitated remembering all those times in which she would work or talk to Wanda, the many times the witch asked for you trying to get as much information as she could. The times Natasha had seen her cry or play with the pendant you had given her once. That whenever she saw her with Vision there was something so… wrong, something so force that made her think Wanda was just trying to live what she was supposed to. 

Natasha really wanted to tell you that you were special, that whether Maximoff admitted it or not… she was in love with you.  Always had been. 

She didn't say anything, though. You didn't need a glimpse of hope in your heart, not that kind of hope anyway. Last time the break-up had almost destroyed you, and Natasha was not about to let that happen again. 

"I talked to Strange." Natasha changed the topic returning her stare to the ceiling. "This is seriously the most fuck up thing I've heard in a while."

"I'm going to tell Rocket you said that and he is going to feel offended."

You chuckled standing up to look for your pants. There was a knock on the door, you turned around waiting Yelena but a shiver went through uour body when your eyes found those of Wanda. 

"Uh, sorry I just…" she trailed off, her eyes travelling down your legs to your hips and then to your torso and face, her cheeks turning red just as she turned sharply to the bed where Natasha was resting the weight of her upper body on her elbows. 

"You just…?" You broke the silence seeing the change in Wanda's face, the blush leaving her features as a cold, upset stare settle in. "Can I finish getting dress or you gonna talk, Little Witch?" 

The nickname rolled out of your mouth as easily as breathing. Wanda opened her eyes at this, her lips twitched up but whatever traces of smile were halted when her eyes fell on the bed, on Natasha then on you. You held yourself opening your eyes before scowling, Wanda made a nervous movement with her hands before stepping back. 

"It can wait…" The door closed behind her but the tension was quite palpable. 

Natasha turned around giving you a half smile. 

"For shit like this is that people think we fuck."

You let out a snort, shaking your head. Your mind fixed on the expression in Wanda's eyes, the blush and the way her eyes had moved, checking you up. 

"You were talking about Strange?" 

Natasha sat down narrowing her eyes at you, "So we're going to ignore what just happened?" 

You turned to glare at her, Natasha rolled her eyes nodding. 

"Very well, there was an attack on New York, a creature following a girl."

"America." Natasha nodded

"The creature was being controlled by something else, something that could cast a special kind of magic, so they asked Wanda for help."

You put a hand on your chin, it was strange the whole situation. 

"He told me to ask America about the multiverse and said she could explain it better. But long story short, she is not from this world and she doesn't know how to control her powers… whatever or whoever is looking for her…" 

"It's doing it because of her ability.".

"Seems that way." Natasha stood up making her way to the door. "Whatever you do, please… be careful."

"I will." Natasha nodded but before she left you caught up with her wrapping your arms around her. 

The woman tensed for a moment caught off guard before she settled into the embrace. 

"Thank you for everything."

Natasha softened smiling at your words, "No need to, Malysha. Now let's go I'm dying to see what Wanda is going to do and said."

You walked down the corridor leading to your living room, your heart aching inside your heart knowing full well that even with all the pain she had gone through America was right. She would do anything for Wanda, after all this time, she would do it.

But first, she would need to hear the whole story.

______________________________________________________________

Wanda rested her weight against the window, her eyes following the patterns of the twirls of wind and snow dancing in front of her. She hadn’t had a single moment of peace ever since…since forever; Wanda left the world five years ago in a single snap and everything around her changed completely, by the time she was back Vision was long dead and she was alone.

She didn’t even have the time to mourn his death, to think about herself or her own life. She didn’t even have the time to think about…about the things she discovered.

It had been right after the funeral.

The Avengers compound had been empty, not many had returned to such a place after the Blip. The place was empty, almost empty. The voice of Friday had followed Wanda all through the compound, the AI spoke to her about the future of the building and how Tony had started a new plan of reconstruction of the Avengers.

Without meaning to, and really without thinking about it she ended up in your room.

Your former room.

Nothing much had changed inside it.

Tony had a thing for keeping your stuff the way you left it if you ever wanted to go back, you never did but Wanda knew Tony and Natasha had kept the place spotless. From time to time, when the world became too much, and Wanda didn’t know what to do she came here, with time she lost your smell but at least she held onto some of your things.

That day, she didn’t mean to do nothing much but rest.

She took a bath and went to look for some of your old clothes, something she hadn’t dared to do before that moment for fear of anyone discovering she had been there. That she had the need to be there just to hold onto something that had been completely yours.

The walk-in wardrobe was big enough to keep several items, most of them you had taken with you, some others were either forgotten or left intentionally. Wanda felt the weight of the world on her shoulders, moving through the motions she almost fell down on a box she had never noticed before.

It was a small chest.

Made of oak and steel.

Wanda furrowed her brows lifting the object while weighing it in her hands, she picked up one of your old t-shirts and went to your old bed. She put on some clothes before settling on the bed, her curiosity gotten the best of her while with a flicker of her hand the chest clicked open.

The contents on the box broke Wanda completely.

It made her realise whatever she felt for you, was still there. Always there, fresh, and ready to be reignited again.

Inside she found a map, a blueprint and a squared box made of blue velvety material.

Her hands trembled.

Her world crumbled under her then she saw the map when she read the blueprint…when she discovered the ring.

To grow old with. A dog because she always wanted one. A cat because I always wanted one. And two kids…because we want a big family.

That day she had taken everything with her, grabbed the closest car and drove to the town. Westview. And, she couldn’t take it anymore, she gave in until her sorrow and loneliness and regret were too much and she ran away the same way she had done so ten years ago.

The sound of laughter and arguing brought her back to reality.

She lowered her gaze trying to shake away the influx of memories that were threatening to overwhelm her once more. Wanda turned around to see America holding back her laughter, while Yelena tried to understand what had happened while Natasha seemed to be scowling at you. For a brief moment your eyes crossed, Wanda looked away, her hand closing tightly around the ring she had carried with her since that day.

“I can’t believe you left her on the sofa!” Natasha leaned in to help Yelena up, the other Widow glared at you but you merely smiled at her.

“She was wasted, and she needed to rest. It wasn't as if she messed up anything.” You commented, shrugging. “She threw up before we got here.”

“It’s not fair I’m feeling this awful and you’re not.” Yelena drawled her glare intensified when you chuckled approaching America.

“You see? That happens when you take the challenge to outdrink everyone at the bar.” You tried to explain to an amused America. “You don’t do that if you don’t wanna feel like that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, Yelena straightened up narrowing her eyes at you.

“I thought you guys were going to drink away and forget this meeting.” America raised a brow at you then at Yelena, your smile dropped and this time around Yelena did smirk her eyes went directly to Wanda.

“You see, kid. I went there to drink, but she went there to make up with a hot milf.” Yelena saw with growing satisfaction the glint of hurt crossing Wanda’s green eyes.

You stiffened shaking your head in disbelief, though there was a hint of a smile on your lips. 

“You’re just envious because I got a kiss.”

“As if…

“Okay, you two, stop it.” Natasha sent a scowl to Yelena pointing to the other side of the house. “You, take a bath, have something to eat and we will wait for you in the conference room. And you, stop stalling.”

You winced nodding your head, your attention went from America who seemed highly amused still to Wanda who had her eyes on some spot outside the window.

“Very well, then let me show you around.” 

The house had been an abandoned cot when you first saw it. It was far enough from everyone that you could keep running away from your past, but still close enough to action that you could go around and assist those who needed you. It took you some time, and help but in the end you built up an operations base to help those who were in serious need of help after the Sokovia Accords. The lighthouse had been a great addition, and you had enjoyed working around the place until it became what it was at the moment.

A new beginning.

The house had two levels, the one everyone knew and the one where the main action used to happen. You walked ahead of Wanda, America by your side while Natasha followed you three close behind. 

"It was difficult at the beginning; I have to work around security and for that I have to make some sacrifices." It was quite evident by your tone of voice that the topic had been painful. 

America scrunched her nose, "what do you mean?" 

"Well, I'm good with programming, Tony taught me well." You puffed out your chest, it was one of the things you were most proud of. "But I am not infallible, Vision however had enough in his system to help around the network."

"What?" 

Wanda jerked around with a frown in place, her eyes wide open in disbelief. You turned around, confused at her reaction. 

"Vision helped with the system." You repeated tilting your head, "you didn't know?" 

Wanda stood there with disbelief filling up her mind, Vision had never mentioned you. Not even after she begged him to find out news about you, whatever information she got of you and your whereabouts had been through Clint and Steve. 

"He never… I…" Wanda started but you just resumed your walking towards the closest door shrugging. 

"If I had been important, perhaps he would have mentioned me." There was a hint of bitterness in your voice, America observed yours and Wanda's reaction while filing away this new piece of information. 

"You are important." Wanda whispered with an unreadable expression on her. 

You snorted, opening the door and letting them go inside. 

"Of course, I am, you told me yourself, Wanda." Your voice cold and emotionless made Wanda winced. "You came here because you need to use me again, this time around though without any tricks, or misleads."

And with that you entered the conference room moving past Wanda, a heavy weight on your heart and a mind filled with regrets and yearning, that day promised to be a long one. 

______________________________________________________________

TAG LIST

@username23345 - @wandanats-goodgirl - @catswag22 - @imadethisblogbecauseiamasimp - @marvelogic - @dumpaccdontmindme - @nikkinss - @reereeineedtopee - @kaisenblog - @your-internet-adviser - @dark-hunter16 - @wandabear - @justyourwritter69 - @wandasmarley - @imthenatynat - @bisexualnoodle - @trikruismybitch - @fxckmiupup- @justafoolinlove - @teenybean - @haunt626 - @itshouldvebeenme30 - @wandasmarley - @lonewalker17 - @alwaysgoodnight - @wandsmxmff - @iliketozoneout - @kacka84 - @get-the-fuck-outta-here - @charl-lally - @sadiesgf69 - @fanboy7794 - @yenmaximoff - @yenmaximoff - @the-mute1 - @the-mute1 - @when-wolves-howl - @mroyalll -@justhereformemes12345-blog - @justhereformemes12345-blog

Please, tell me if I forgot anyone.

#wanda maximoff #female Reader #You #Y/N #Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader #WandaxReader #WandaxFemale!Reader #Wanda Maximoff x Female! reader #Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader #imagine wanda maximoff #MoM AU #Marvel AU

[onedayimgonnasnap]

Lucio Slander

I’m choosing to be a menace to society starting with this ugly ass mother fucker.

Lucio desperately needs some mother fucking eye drops.

His hair is so gelled it cracks after he takes a shower and they’re still hair gel in it.

Mother fucker would go up to any Hispanic and say “My garden needs to be watered.”

Bro Fr deadass a colonizer

He makes Rika and J*sper look like saints. How tf is that even possible-

Bro dead ass is hated on by the whole damn city.

Bro is throwing tantrums at 40.

How tf does he cheat on Nadia- NADIA IS TO GOOD FOR HIM- WTF

Bro dead ass built like Ken from Toy Story 3

Bros hair line is dead ass reciting. It’s leaving to a whole ass another country.

bros the type of mf to say every single slur A-Z to remember his ABCs because he’s to dumb to memorize them.

Bro dead ass looks like a depressed uncle

He’s the type of mf to say he’s not white but say he’s actually 0.001% black so he can say the N- Word

Bros nose is built like a right triangle.

He’s allergic to anything spicy. He adds salt and pepper and says it’s the height of luxury.

How tf do you screw up so badly for your own momma to hate you 💀✋

I bet his mama really regrets not having an abortion

Bro dead ass in Muriel’s route cried “MAMA” and no one was there to help him 😭

Bro when you open up the app and press everyone they all have a cute smile and then there’s HIM- AND ITS SUCH AN UGLY FACE.

Bros hygiene is so down bad that a plague was coming back when he was coming back. Do you know how bad that fucking looks? 😒

Plague or no plague, the deepest HES ever been in a hole is the one that he came out of his mamas.

Everytime we see him as a goat it’s a whole ass jumpscare.

Bros Fr apology video is gonna be a Travis Scott one.

I bet he doesn’t even wash his ass in the shower.

His nails are so fucking dirty they’re all black and it’s not even from the plague.

Bro has an ugly crying face. How tf do people get manipulated by him 💀✋ like dead ass I could tell him the trash Can has 5 dollars in it and he’d jump in without worrying about anything.

Bros fake robo arm has all the damn diseases, AIDS, cancer, bitchlesscosus, diabetes, rabies.

Actually if he bit you in his goat form you would proceed to her rabies.

I like how everytime he appears everyone is so sick and tired of his always seeking validation ass.

He has the posture of someone who didn’t get enough love and validation from their father.

I bet he has lice, like both head lice and pubic lice. And some of the head lice are dead because of all that hair gel he be using. So they’re stuck there in the middle forever.

The remaining live lice sing gospel songs on his head and praying that someday they will escape his greasy head ass because even they can’t breathe.

He would make out with a guy and still refuse to wash his ass because he thinks it’s gay.

Bro is not on gang with his rizz gang.

Bros the type of mf to be so happy when someone gives him a Pat on the back. But when that person does give him a pat on the back their hand now has a fowl Oder that only Jesus can stop.

Mf has only a face a mother Can love. Actually I lied, not even his own mother could love what ever that is. 😟

I like how no matter the fan art and etc he’s still FUCKING UGLY- NOONE CAN DO HIM JUSTICE

Bro has enough ear wax to make him a candle for days.

Bros eye brows are some how splitting I bet his eyebrow lice also be singing Christmas carols

These bitches look the same 💀✋

#the arcana #Lucio slander #the arcana lucio #count lucio #Lucio hate #Lucio Stan’s pull up

[losfacedevil]

Change // SFK (Pt 3)

a/n ~ Who’s ready for another installment? Let’s take these babes outside of the market setting, shall we? Word Count: 2.7k

Her heart sank when she realized the forecast hadn’t been yanking her chain. 

She stood in the bay window that graced the expanse of one living room wall, watching the droplets of rain race each other down to the sill below. A huff of breath escaping her as her mind began playing tricks on her; making her believe every car that drove by was his. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, pulling a deep breath in through her nose as memories she wished to forget engulfed all of her senses. 

He would constantly accuse her of cheating, knowing full well she didn’t have friends let alone the mental capacity to cheat. Damning words always slipping past his lips whenever he was mad. 

“Tell your other boy I said hi.” 

“Who you talking to, huh? Your boy toy?”

“You always switch apps when I walk by like that’s not sketchy. You’re so fucking sketchy.” 

“You always say no, you never do what I want to, you ruin everything.” 

“You don’t want sex? Who you have over last night then, huh?”

“You wanna relax? That’s all you ever do, you don’t clean for shit.”

“You can’t wear that outside of the house, only whores wear skirts and dresses. Stop acting like you’re single.”

Her blood began to boil as her mind reeled, everything he had ever done pouring from the recesses of her mind. Shaking her head of the thoughts she made her way into her bedroom and yanked open the closet door. Eyes scanning everything in the forbidden section looking for the perfect dress. The flowy summery dress stared her in the face, a purchase she had made thinking he’d love just for him to shoot her down. 

“It’s too short, you can’t wear it out of the house.” 

Something that pained her every time she just wanted to look nice. Her eyes danced over the dress, the little flowers embroidered on the skirt jumping out at her as she pulled it off of the hanger. 

~*~*~

Her Uber dropped her off in front of the restaurant they used to frequent, one she wasn’t sure she had the courage to waltz herself into. With a soft sigh she smoothed her skirt and pulled the door open, her favorite hostess hovering by the podium. 

“Hey babe! Long time no see, table for two?” A solemn expression kissed her features, bowing her head slightly a she shook it. 

“No, just me.” She raised her shoulders in a shrug, eyes meeting the hostess and conveying a silent message. The hostess nodded gently, plucking a single menu from the podium before nodding her head in a beckoning way. 

Sam sat at the bar, stretching his back out over the back of the chair as his brother rambled on beside him. His eyes dancing along the ceiling tiles, lost in his own mind. He couldn’t shake her from his thoughts, her face plaguing his mind as he wondered if she was okay. He knew nothing about her, didn’t know her story or where she came from. All he knew was that he wanted to know her, to know her story and inner workings, what made her tick. 

“You’re not even listening are you?” Josh droned on, his eyes boring holes into Sam’s side profile. A sigh slipped past his lips as he rolled his eyes and reached up to snap his fingers in Sam’s face. The younger boy shook his head, turning his attention back to his brother. 

“Wait what happened?” Sam reached up to rub his eyes, trying to refocus his thoughts. 

“I asked if you were coming to the graduation party moms throwing once I’m done with school but clearly the ceiling is more important.” Josh scoffed, throwing his hands around as he spoke. Sam shrugged his shoulders, letting his head fall back again. 

“Who knows, mom has parties for everything.” He lifted his hands up, cracking his knuckles as his focus drifted back to the thoughts bouncing around his head. But something caught his ear, the soft tinkling voice he knew belonged to her. He turned his head slightly, catching the way her hair flowed behind her as she walked with the hostess. 

Sam scrambled to right himself in his seat, turning fully to see where she was going to be seated. A soft smile grew across his face as his eyes danced over the length of her figure. The dress she wore hugging her curves in all the right places and the skirt billowed out around her as she spun on her heel. She took her seat and nodded at the waitress as she placed a menu in front of her. The smile slipping off Sam’s face as he realized how sad she truly looked. 

“Space Cadet!” Josh yelled, snapping his fingers in Sam’s ears to gain his brothers attention. Sam tilted his head slightly, shoving his ear in Josh’s direction as he kept his eyes trained on her. 

“Who is that and why does she look like a sad CEO who makes a six figure paycheck in that dress?” Josh asked, his gaze following that of Sam’s and landing on her. 

“That’s the girl! The one from the market I was telling you about. She looks… she looks so sad.” His voice was but a whisper, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he turned his attention back to Josh. 

“The one that came back to see you last week? That’s her?” Sam nodded, raising his hand to flag down the bar tender. Josh watched as Sam placed an order for a peach sangria, tossing his thumb over his shoulder at her. Josh raised a brow watching as his little brother paid for the drink and watched with careful eyes as the bartender poured it and walked it over. Sam turned slightly in his seat, watching from the corner of his eye. 

“Peach sangria for the misses.” The bar tender cooed, placing the drink down in front of her. She cocked her head to the side, shaking it gently.

“Oh no, I haven’t ordered anything yet. That isn’t mine.” A soft but sad smile spread across her face as she locked gazes with the bar tender. The woman shrugged, turning slightly to point in the direction of the bar. 

“Young man with the long hair bought it for you. Enjoy.” She cooed, making her way back over to the bar. 

Sam turned to look at her, a shy smile spreading across her face as her gaze met his and her shot her a cheeky wink. She reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear as she averted her gaze to the drink in front of her.

“You can’t just send her a drink and not go sit with her.” Josh mumbled, pulling out his phone and firing off a quick text before rising to his feet. 

Sam’s eyes grew wide as Josh walked away, unsure of what to do in the situation he now found himself in.  He pulled a deep breath in through his nose as he stood, straightening the button up shirt that adorned his torso before pushing in the bar stool and sauntering ever so slowly over to where she sat. He rested his hand on the back of the empty chair sat in front of her, his eyes never leaving her face. 

“Fancy meeting you here, mind if I sit?” A soft smile danced across his lips as he nodded towards the chair, pulling it out gently and perching himself of it as she picked at the skin around her nails - a nervous tick he had picked up on. 

“What’s got you out and about alone?” He cooed, clasping his hands together against his lap as he leaned forward in his seat. Her eyes remained on her hands as she reached out to drag her finger along the rim of the glass. An involuntary soft shrug of her shoulders pulling her from her thoughts. 

“Well the market was clearly a no go with the lightening and well… I guess I just couldn’t sit staring at the same four walls any longer. So here I am.” Her eyes found his, the sorrow she so badly wanted to hide gleaming front and center. 

“I get that but, dinner by yourself? Doesn’t sound like much fun does it?” She averted her gaze, shaking her head lightly and pulled her top lip down between her teeth. 

“Fun? No. But sometimes it’s all I got.” Her eyes grew wide as the words slipped past her lips, not meaning to come off the way she did. Sam’s expression softened, cocking his head to the side and pulled his bottom lip snugly between his teeth. He could see the inner workings of her brain turning, the way her eyes became slightly wild as she coiled into herself. 

“Hey.”  Sam kept his voice soft, his eyes alight with concern and wonder as he reached forward and placed his hand over hers. He felt her jump slightly, the sudden contact catching her off guard and she snapped her head up to look at him. 

“It’s okay! It’s okay. Are you okay?” 

Her chest rose as a deep breath found home in her lungs, blowing it out slowly as her eyes fluttered shut. She uncoiled her hand, allowing him to wrap his fully around hers. The dancing of his thumb against her palm bringing her back down to Earth and a soft shake of her head was then only answer she could muster. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Sam rose his brows, cocking his head slightly to the side as he watched her down half of her drink in one go. A soft sullen smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she placed the glass back on the table. 

“Not lying, nows just not the time or the place. So yes, I’m as okay as I’m going to be, Sammy. No offense.” She giggled, lifting her drink and tipped it in his direction before raking another sip. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, fully thankful for the dark lighting in the restaurant for hiding that damned blush blooming across his cheeks. 

“Well since you’re okay, I’m gonna jet. My brothers waiting around here somewhere for me.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling back and resting his hands on his knees. Her mind reeled, eyes wide as she reached her hand out across the table to him. 

“Wait… um.” She pulled back sheepishly, balling her hand into a fist as she realized her actions. Sam watched her intently, making mental notes of how her eyes glimmered, the way she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and snatched her hand back towards her body. He recognized her fight or flight instinct kicking in. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” She trained her eyes on his gaze, the Angel on her shoulder reminding her that he is just Sam and he means no harm. 

“I… uh… this is gonna sound forward but, would you maybe wanna stay and hang? Your brother could hang to. But you can say no.” A defeated look kissed her features and she shrugged her shoulders gently, her mind reminding her that he had no obligation to humor her. But he nodded his head, pulling his phone out to shoot off a quick text before tucking it back into his pocket. 

“I’m all yours.” 

~*~*~

Their time at the restaurant went off without a hitch. Small talk and jokes over appetizers and a pitcher of Sangria was just what she needed. Sam’s laugh was boisterous and catchy, tossing his head back every time she found one of her jokes to be just a little more funny than she intended.

She soon realized her smiles and giggles were genuine, nothing forcefully pushed out of her as he dug around his arsenal of dad jokes - hoping to find another one to tickle her fancy. Once she had tipped back her head and drank down the last of the sangria in her cup she raised a hand a flagged over the waitress. 

“Can we get the checks please?” Sam shook his head, turning his attention to the waitress. 

“Both on the same check is fine.” Her eyes grew wide and she frantically shook her head as the waitress walked away. 

“You cannot pay for my food and drinks. I won’t allow it.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he took the check book from the waitress and placed it on the table, resting his elbow against it as he leaned to the side to retrieve his wallet. 

Flashbacks engulfed her mind as she watched his movements. Thoughts of him making her pay for everything, not even offering to pay his own way dancing in the forefront of her mind. Her hands were clammy, panic beginning to bubble in her stomach as the clatter of Sam’s wallet hitting the table shook her from her thoughts.

“Consider this my thanks for supporting my market.” He shrugged, slipping his credit card in to the book and snapping it shut. Her brows furrowed, making a face at him and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Because oh I don’t know, paying you for the goods you create isn’t enough?” She quipped, eyeing him as he popped the top two buttons of his shirt open. 

“Listen, I’m trying to be the gentleman here and you’re just downing my vibe.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together under his chin and trained his eyes on her. She huffed a defeated sigh as she copied his move, leaning forward against her clasped hands. 

“Fine, you win. But you’re not paying for my

Uber.” She giggled, smiling up at the waitress as she took the check book to process the payment. 

“Who said I was going to let you get into an Uber? Do you know how many people get kidnapped in Ubers? I’d have nothing to look forward to if you got kidnapped!” Sam chuckled, analyzing the expression on her face as she took in his words. 

“So how exactly do you expect me to get home if I can’t Uber?” She quipped, tilting her head to the side. 

“Well, me, of course.” Sammy spat, as if it were common knowledge. She shook her head, laying her hand palm up down against the table. 

“But what if you’re a kidnapper?” She giggled, watching as he placed his hand in hers and wrapped her fingers around his large palm. 

“Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to trust me.” 

~*~*~*~ TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust​ @sammysprincess​ @sammykiszkamyass​ @belovedsamuel​ @safety-sam​ @puzzle-gvf​ @sunfl0wer-power​ @vanfleeter​ @twistedmelodies​ @ppoutine @aintthatapity​ @gvfpal​ @psychedelicsprinkles​

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ

pairing: ares!bucky x aphrodite!reader

warnings: forced arranged marriage, angst, cheating, liberties with greek mythology canon (i.e. i do what i want with the canon), smut (18+), oral (female receiving), possessiveness, breeding kink, penetrative sex (p in v), angst

inspired by the myth of ares and aphrodite's affair

He walked past those golden gates in glorious armour tainted with blood which rolled quickly onto the grounds, staining the pureness of the home of the gods with the blood of its bastard and that who represented all which was sung in heroic epic poems. The blood of who was meant to be the pure essence of courage and war - yet, unlike his sister, he was never to be known as the tactile, intelligent general. No, he was brutality and blood lust. He was the emotionless soldier and like one, he was no longer cheered on as he returned from war. He was disliked, hated by all his siblings and even his own parents - he was not the rewards of war or even the heroism at the end, he was the brutality and the blood which now stained his face. Everyone sneered at him as he passed by, his helmet dropping as he wished to merely disappear for the evening. 

Blood or how it stained no longer bothered him anymore, his pale hands had stained from so many people which had been slayed and despite the handsome looks inherited from his own mothered, these appeared almost deformed. Almost as if no one this vile, this brutal should look handsome, sculpted even. 

     - Did you win? - a melodic voice played through the room as the satin golden curtains of his room where pushed.

If James considered himself handsome, he knew of no words to describe the woman who stood in front of him, dressed in light fabrics with flowers decorating her hair.  She playfully moved through the curtains, a small smile on her face as she finally showed herself completely to him, a white cloth dangling from her hand. 

    - I always win. - his voice came rough from battle cries yet her face didn’t stray away from softness. - Shouldn’t you be basking in marital bliss? 

    - There’s nothing to be basking on. - she knelled by his side and started to wipe the fresh blood of his face. - I am not one to be particularly found of marriage itself.

     - Aren’t you supposed to be the goddess of love or something?

     - Marriage is not love. 

     - How can someone not fall in love with you, fairest of all women to ever have been dreamed. - he put his hand over hers which was resting on his face.

She looked at him with uncertainty. It was no secret for any god in the pantheon that he carried affection for the goddess of love and beauty herself. He never cared for any other goddess’ charms or most mortals, he was much too busy being an iron fist for his father’s trials. However, she, she was different. The softest most beautiful of women didn’t look at him like everyone else, she didn’t look in horror or in fear. She merely treated him with kindness and softness, always having a kind word to say or a smile to give. The blood didn’t bother her and sometimes he wondered if there was a bubbling sense of war inside of her either - the rumours grew large about it. 

    - I bring love, I don’t receive it for myself.

    - Does your husband not dote on you? - his blue eyes looked into hers and for the first time she avoided his look. She wasn’t a particularly good liar when it came to him. 

Truth was he did not dote on her. She was not to be a loving wife, she was to be a prize, a happy gift from the God of gods to the one who was most ignored. She was a prize and her husband was happy to parade her around for everyone else to see, enjoyed her title as his wife, but he didn’t want her for any more than that. She could only entertain herself with mortal love stories and toying with them so much.  

    - I am not a normal woman. - she chose to reply. - It’s not a normal wedding. 

    - I am not a normal man, Aphrodite. - he stood up. - Yet, if you were my wife, there would not be a single minute of any hour where you wouldn’t be doted upon.

    - I do not need adoration. I have ... I have my followers and those who pray for me to help them fulfil their romantic pursuits.

     - Shall I pray to you then, my goddess? 

     - Don’t start that again. You know we cannot. 

Anger bubbled within him, anger from being overlooked, for not receiving that which should’ve been his own happiness. He’d done the hard working expecting nothing until the day she’d appeared in his life and she was all he wanted - yet, here she was, long gone. 

    - We were supposed to be. You ... - he clenched his fist attempting to calm himself but failing. - I did everything just so you could be mine. So that my father would be pleased and allow you to be my wife, so I ...

    - James. - she called him his name, not the one mortals had given him or his parents called him. His name, the one he chose, the one he’d rather hear. If he was called by it, he was no longer god of war and courage, he was just a man, no less feeling than the ones who worshipped him. - Please don’t dwell on things you cannot change. 

    - All the blood I spilled and all the lives I’ve claimed have all been in your name. - he knelled in front of her as if she were the goddess of all gods. Perhaps she could be in her rage, outside the loving energy she’d been so known to give. - I don’t think anyone has given you any more sacrifices than me and I cannot stand the thought of not seeing you be loved.

There she stood attempting to forget those words, those very sweet words of the only man she’d ever wished to be betrothed to. She knew why she was married to her husband, she was a gift to appease the ignored son of Hera and Zeus, the one whose beauty and own traits made her the perfect wife to parade around. She was what he wanted so Hera could be freed and had little to no regard if she wanted to be married or ever considered a potential wife. Perhaps they should’ve given her to the other ignored son, yet she doubted they noticed him unless a war was waging on. He hadn’t been the particular favourite during the battle of Troy after all.  

    - Love marriages are not for us. 

    - Marriages are not for me, my goddess. 

    - Some mortal woman is gonna catch your eye, one day.

    - Perhaps. - he got up on his feet, his hand coming up to hold hers up to his lips. - But I doubt she’ll ever be you and as such I’ll never be satisfied. 

    - James, we will never be satisfied. 

He scoffed, a smirk forming on his lips as he pushed a stray hair away from her beautiful face. It felt forbidden to even touch her with his tainted hands, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t fell warm and forgiven for all his sins whenever he touched her. He was never one to believe in worship but he’d worship her every day of every year for eternity. 

   - I thought as a goddess of lust, you’d know about being satisfied. 

   - Perhaps if you’d been my husband ... - she tapped his cheek. - I would’ve known about satisfaction. Rumours about you run wild down there. 

   - Do you query mortal women about satisfaction?

   - I do not need to query them. I am the goddess of love and lust, I know things without needing to ask. 

   - Did you know you were gonna marry him?

   - I’m the goddess of love, not the goddess of arranged marriages. - she attempted to joke about her situation but James had become too good at seeing through her. Not a good look when one’s a goddess who’s supposed to be impossible to read. - I have to go. I will see you at supper tonight. 

   - You won’t, my goddess. 

   - It wasn’t a question or a request. - she threw her hair over her shoulder before disappearing from his resting quarters.

James couldn’t help but smirk at her behaviour for there was only one being in all of Earth who would dare to order the god of war around. The last thing he meant to do was attend a supper in celebration of war winnings, a supper which was more for his sister than for him. Yet, the moment his eyes laid on his goddess, her body covered with gold and pink fabrics, he couldn’t help but convince himself this would be a good supper. She smiled at the laughter and jokes coming from the other gods, yet she was still sat by her husband, one of Hephaestus many jewellery gifts settled around her neck - like a chain. Jealousy pooled inside of him, the tight control he had of his ability slightly cracking, causing the laughter and chatter to turn into petty gossip and fighting in some minor, weaker gods. Her eyes met his as she discovered who was influencing the sudden fighting. Through the middle of petty allegations, she rose from her seat, knowing he’d follow her and possibly stop influencing a fight onto an otherwise good yet cynical supper. 

He followed her through his father’s house, always slightly ahead of him, only her long gown being seen by him until she met a wall. She turned around, hearing the foot steps get closer and soon enough he appeared in front of her, bathed in candle light. 

    - How would you feel if I influenced everyone to just suddenly become lustful?

    - While I would enjoy seeing what you can influence gods to do, my goddess, I didn’t entirely mean to cause a fight. 

    - The God of War didn’t mean to cause a fight? - she crossed her arms. - How interesting.

    - I’m not the only god of war. Honestly, my goddess, I’d rather finish them than start them. 

    - You’ll upset your father.  

    - He’s always upset at me, Y/N. - he taunted her, using the name she’d chosen for herself while at Cyprus. He found it quite funny how she refused to refer to herself as the name given to her by her cult, saying that risen from foam was a terrible way to be named. - Have you taken it upon yourself to watch over me?

   - Have you taken it upon yourself to stare down my husband each time you see him? 

   - Is he overly sensitive?

   - Don’t be mean.

   - I’m not being mean. You don’t love him. - he accused her of a truth she knew all too well. Everyone knew it all too well. She was forced into the marriage and barely spent time with her husband, choosing to instead dwell on what human relationships were happening in her favourite cities. -  We were supposed to be. You know we were supposed to have been wed. 

   - We were never supposed to be. Your father would have to be insane to wed the God of War to a primordial god’s daughter. It’s asking for trouble. 

   - Then tell me you don’t love me. Safe me from this torment and tell me you don’t love me. 

She was an adept liar, a part of love which was dark and had become part of her nature as a survivor goddess during the Titan age. She was smart and covered that with the coat of stereotypes about female love and softness. Despite this, there was one thing she couldn’t do - lie about love. Just like he couldn’t lie about bloodshed, she couldn’t lie about love. If she tried, the words would just die down, silencing her. James awaited, the time spent torturous as he realised she could shatter him - yet, even if she loved him, it would equally destroy him, maddening him to the point of returning to war merely to forget her face.

    - You know I can’t say that.

    - Then save me from my misery. - he took a step towards her. 

Her features shivered as she looked up at the tall, handsome god of war in front of her. Even the feeling of her gown against her skin made her upset, as the mere act of breathing increased a tension which was supposed to have broken a long while ago. Her bottom lip dropped as her gaze lowered to the ground before returning to his eyes, a soft resolve forming on her otherwise calm face. Her right hand touched his plate armour covered chest while the other snaked around his neck before pulling him into a kiss. 

James was no innocent. He’d kissed other women before both mortal and goddesses but kissing her, the goddess of love and beauty, was something else entirely and whatever gentleman principles he held close to him, faded away as her soft lips moved against his. The soft kiss turned bruising as his hands held her hips and pushed her against the concrete wall. Her hand moved from his chest to cup his face through the kiss until they needed to break it off to catch a breath. He looked down at her through fluttered lashes before returning to kiss her, this time his lips wandering from hers to her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips as he kissed and bite down her skin, leaving his mark, marking her as his. She was his and he was hers - end of story. 

   - We can’t do this. - she spoke, as her loyalty to her husband weakened with each kiss laid on her skin. - I shouldn’t.

   - Don’t care. - he kissed up her body once more, his forehead leaning over hers. - Put me out from my misery, my goddess. 

She couldn’t find it within herself to be loyal anymore. Her lips bruised against his as he messed with her gown, soft pastel fabrics falling to the ground leaving the goddess naked in front of him merely adorned in jewellery. His jaw locked as he was once reminded of who had made that jewellery, who had gifted it to her and without any consideration, his hand wrapped around the gold around her neck, breaking it onto the ground before he returned to kiss her. 

   - You’re mine. - he said wantonly, his hand flying to her neck with a soft grip. - You will never lay with anyone the way you lay with me. 

   - James ... - she moaned out his name as her thighs clenched against one another. With a knowing smirk, he dropped to his knees, swinging on her legs over his shoulder. 

He kissed an invisible path from her knee to her inner thigh, biting onto the supple skin before his tongue licked a stripe through her folds to her clit. She shuddered, her hand clasping over mouth fearful anyone may hear them. However, James had no such worries as once he finished with the testing lick, he delved into her as if he were a starved man.

   - You are mine. - he licked yet another stripe before stopping, blowing cold air onto her warm folds. - Mine!

She whined, her face rubbing against the wall as he grabbed her ass and delved deeper, his tongue plunging into her while his finger drew lazy circles around her clit. She found it hard to keep standing, her hand still tightly pressed against her mouth. 

   - Take it off. - he stopped his motions, raising up to her level. She looked at him confused and frustrated before he pushed her hand down. - I want to hear you.

   - They could he ...

   - I don’t care. - his finger trusted inside of her, her whines now coming clear as he curled them. - You’re mine, they should hear you’re mine.

James knew the consequences of his actions, he knew them way too well but once he heard the sweet sounds of her moans, calling out his name as he added another finger. She was beautiful, she looked beautiful with her mouth agape, calling out for him, her walls clenching around his fingers until a high pitched moan had her come undone. He shushed her as he continued to lazily thrust his fingers in and out of her hole. 

   - You ... - he gripped her jaw. - You are mine, you’ll always be mine, no matter who the fuck you’re married too.

Her hands nervously and quickly did his trousers down, his cock sprung up and hit his stomach, a sight which she was sure to never forget. The look in her face changed as she gripped his cock and started to move her hand up and down - he knew he was in the presence of the goddess of lust in that second. He grunted, holding himself up by pressing his hands on each side of her hand as she quickened her movements. She gripped his cock, circling her thumb around his tip which was leaking with precum. 

   - Stop. - he moved his hand to stop hers once his breathe started to quicken, the vein on his neck popping as he attempted to ground himself. - I wanna finish inside of you.

She kissed him, her nails raking up his back as he led his cock to her hole and almost as if the air had been punched out of her lungs, he thrust into her. Her nail dug into his back as he immediately set a quick pace, his hands gripping onto her hips so he could thrust fast into her. She swore to herself she’d never felt something like that, the texture of his cock against her walls as addicting as any drug or ambrosia. 

   - We are meant to be. - he groaned, rutting against her as he took her lips into his once more. - You’re gonna be mine. 

   - James ... - she moaned through the kiss, her moans almost echoing from his mouth. 

   - Fuck, I’m gonna fill you with my cum. - his hand gripped her jaw, so her eyes were looking into his. - You’re gonna be leaking with me for days. 

   - Can’t ... - she whispered, but she couldn’t deny how exciting it felt, she couldn’t deny how her walls clenched around him. 

   - Yes, you can. - his movements appeared angrier, his pelvis hitting hers in a bruising pace. - We’ll start a new age, my goddess.

The elastic band snapped and all the tension faded away as the breathe exited her lips, her head lulling against his chest as he continued to thrust into her abused hole until with a grunt, ropes of white painted her walls, sealing future which both of them would only consider the next day. His arms wrapped around her, holding her against him just so she could hear her heart beat, the sweet soft sound of the humanity all of them held. He loved her, he would always love her, even if it had to be in hidden corners of the Olympus. 

     - I need to go, they’ll wonder where I am. - she said softly against his skin.

     - I know. - he kissed her forehead. - Just not yet. 

     - We were supposed to be, Ares. - she looked at him with sadness in her eyes. 

     - What an eternity that would’ve been. 

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/you #bucky x you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky smut #ares!bucky

[non-stop-imagines]

“The Absent and The Invisible”- 🐹 anon

Oh, I'm excited about this one!! Here's the little prequel/background story part I have so far 😊

(Hint: Older Brother!Max x Younger sister!Reader)

_______

January 2010 (Yn: Age 7; Max: Age 12)

You poke your head into Max's room at your dad's house, quietly watching him pack his things for karting practice. You were staying with your dad for a week, an agreement made between your mom and Jos that allowed you to see your siblings a bit more often then if you only lived in South Africa with your mom. Half of whatever break that came up in your school schedule, right now being the later half Winter Break.

"Are you getting ready for karting practice again?" You draw out the whine in your voice as you shuffle your way into his room and flop onto his bed.

"Yes. Why are you in my room?" He answers bluntly without looking at you, making sure he has everything he needed, which required extra equipment due to the extremely cold Dutch winter.

"Because. Why are you always karting?" You pick up the book that was lying closed on his bed a flip through it, making yourself bounce on his mattress.

"Because I like to. And I want to be the best and drive in Formula 1 and to do so I need to practice." He zips up his bag and then walks over to you on his bed to pluck his book from your hands. "Why are you in my room?"

"I wanted to play a game." You were unphased by the loss of the book in your hands, still bouncing on the bed.

"Why not ask Victoria?" Now fully ready for practice, Max stood with his arms crossed watching you unamused.

"Because she's on the phone with her friends, like always. And your more fun to play with because you get angry when you lose." You stop bouncing when Max points you off of his bed, straightening up his covers once your off and twisting in his desk chair. He though about it, and the small soft spot he had for his youngest sister kicked in.

"What game?" Max went back over to his bag, giving it a light kick as he waited for your answer.

"Operation." Your answer was bright and chipper, which was followed by the completely contrasting boom of Jos' voice calling Max down to leave for practice.

"Fine, we'll play before bed. Now, out of my room." You happily bound out of his room while he gathers his things and closes his door behind him, responding to the second call from his father.

"Thank you, Max!" You head to your room to pull out the game and practice while he heads the opposite direction to go downstairs and meet Jos by the door.

_____

"Max..." The sing-songy tone in your high pitched voice floats into Max's room, making him roll his eyes when the game box appears in his door. You then appear behind the box, eyes widened and lips in a pout. "You promised."

"I know... Fine. One game and then you go." You happily skip into his room and bring setting up the game on his floor, giving him time to pause the game on his Nintendo DS and mentally prepare for playing the board game that his sister was oddly obsessed with.

"Okay, I'll go first." You slowly, and surprisingly steadily, reach into what you deemed was the easiest, and pulled out the rubber band, dropping it into the tray that was off to the side of the board and handing the tweezers to Max. To be completely honest, you guys never looked at the instruction ls for the game, but merely came to a consensus on how to play that works until someone is losing and then opens up for cheating.

"Of course you went for the easy one." Max attempts to go for the butterfly piece in the stomach, but the irritating beep from the tweezers hitting the edge of the cavity indicated the end of his turn, forcing him to reluctantly relinquish the toy tweezers.

"I had to make it harder for you." You go for the same piece as your brother and effortlessly lift it out of its cavity and drop it into the tray. "And that is why I'm gonna be a surgeon. And your just gonna drive cars."

"Formula 1 is more than just 'driving cars'." Max goes completely quiet as he goes for the water pail piece, successfully pulling it out and dropping it into the tray. "Ha!"

"What are you two doing up?" Jos' booming voice from Max's door made both of you jump and turn towards him. You start to stutter out an answer when Max speaks up.

"I promised I would play a game with her before bed." You hadn't noticed, but Max seemed to subconsciously move his body between you cleaning up the board game pieces and your guys' father's ster stature.

"It's well past your bedtime. And I'm sure once your hard work pays off and your making millions from being the best driver in Formula 1, your sister would've forgotten all about you not playing a board game with her." Jos waved you to him and towards your room, harshly flicking off Max's bedroom light as he leaves the door frame.

You never did quite forget about not being able to play with your brother.

#🐹 anon #🐹 #formula 1 #black reader #WIPS Game #max verstappen

[sjsmith56]

Summary - Part 2 of 2 part story. Bucky leaves the Tower after finding out his former girlfriend is dying and she had his child. She and Steve track him to a biker bar. After a heart to heart talk he agrees to stay with her to the end.

Length - 5.64K

Characters - Bucky Barnes, named female character, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Helen Cho, Wanda Maximoff, named female bartender

Warnings - anger, angst, cancer, Bucky dealing with being accused of cheating, Bucky realizing he messed up, swearing, medical drama.

Author notes - First part takes place in a biker bar that isn’t quite what it seems. Second part takes place five months later at the compound where Bucky’s girlfriend undergoes an experimental treatment with the serum. There is a twist ending. It is what it is.

<<Part 1

〰️〰️〰️〰️

Part 2

When Bucky roared out of the parking garage at Stark Tower he didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do. All he knew was that he had to get out of there before he began destroying something. As he weaved his motorcycle in and out of traffic on the expressway out of New York City, all he could think about was the last four years that had been taken from him. Four years without the woman he loved and a son he had never seen. If he wasn’t so angry, he would have pulled over and wept instead. After some time driving aimlessly, he saw it, a small motel with a roadside bar, on a side road next to the expressway. Turning off at the next exit he doubled back towards the place where a line of motorcycles sat outside the bar. Pulling into the parking lot he stopped a short distance away from the other vehicles and turned it off, sitting there for a moment before entering the bar with his bag.

As soon as he strode in all conversations ceased. It was dark inside and it took a moment before his eyes adjusted then he shook his head at his own preconceptions. The people inside, drinking and playing pool, weren’t exactly what he was expecting, as the hair colour leaned towards grey and white.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender, a woman with a ready smile.

“A beer and a bourbon,” said Bucky, sitting on the stool in front of her, dropping his bag to the floor, then looking to either side of where he sat. “Older crowd.”

“Yeah, they’re the Silver Wolves Motorcycle Club,” she answered as she poured him a bourbon then started filling a beer glass from the tap. “All of them have been riding for charity for about 40 years give or take. My dad was a founding member.”

Bucky downed the bourbon then took a drink of the beer. “So, they just come around and hang out?”

“Pretty much,” she replied, then she stuck her hand out. “Nancy Martin. I own the motel and the bar.”

Bucky took his right glove off and shook her hand. “Bucky Barnes.”

If she recognized his name, she didn’t say but she did smile and looked at the other riders. “They go on toy runs, and give rides to the kids getting cancer treatment, that sort of thing. They’re all retired from all types of jobs and walks of life but they all love riding their motorcycles. What brings you in today, Bucky?”

“I was looking for a fight,” he admitted, “but I guess now I need a sympathetic ear.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “That happens when people see the bikes out front. What do you want to talk about?”

“The woman who left me four years ago showed up today to say I was a father and that she was dying,” he said, taking another drink of his beer. “At the time I didn’t know why she left me but apparently she thought I cheated on her.”

“Did you?” asked Nancy.

“Nope.”

“Awkward.”

“Yup.” She poured him another bourbon and he downed it. “I didn’t handle it very well. I took off, drove until I saw the motorcycles and figured I could punch through my anger. Now I don’t even get that.”

“I have just the song for that,” she said, then looked over to one of the riders. “Hey Bobby, put the Rolling Stones on the jukebox. You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

As Mick Jagger’s voice began to fill up the dim interior Bucky kept drinking his beer. Nancy served some more drinks then came back and appraised the dark-haired man.

“Why would she think you cheated on her?” she asked. “I mean, you told her you loved her right?”

He hesitated. “Sort of. Maybe not in words. We were together constantly, and the sex was amazing. I thought she knew that she was it for me.” He sighed and took another drink of his beer. “Maybe I should have said and done more things to show her. Like propose.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He chewed on his lower lip for several moments. “She was too good for me. I had issues and a past that I wasn’t proud of. Kept waiting for her to say she was moving on.”

“This woman you supposedly cheated with … did you flirt with her?”

Bucky scowled. “I didn’t even like her. She was always coming on to me but I never saw her that way.”

“Did you look for your girlfriend after she left you?”

“Jesus, you ask a lot of questions,” he sputtered. Then slowly, he nodded his head. “She was very good at covering her tracks and that just confirmed what I felt all along, that I wasn’t good enough.”

“You were wrong.”

Bucky whirled around to see Lane and Steve standing at the end of the bar. Some super soldier he was that he didn’t even hear them come in. Nancy smiled and poured out two more beers, placing them on the empty spots on either side of Bucky. Sitting beside him Steve and Lane sipped their beer.

“Sharon confessed to setting you up,” said Steve. “Tony has kicked her out of the Avengers, permanently.”

“Yeah, well …,” muttered Bucky, lifting his beer to his mouth. “Not sure I’m coming back.”

“That would be a mistake,” said Lane. “Danny knows his dad is an Avenger. He wants to be just like you.”

Bucky put his beer glass down. “He knows who I am?”

“Yeah, I haven’t kept that a secret from him,” she replied. “It wasn’t my intention to stay away that long. I was waiting for you to find me. You were the Winter Soldier, finding me should have been a piece of cake. Guess I put you off your game.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?” His voice was full of anguish. “Why didn’t you contact me?”

“Because all this time I thought you were with Sharon,” cried Lane. She turned to him with glistening eyes. “You weren’t the only one who thought you weren’t good enough. All we had between us was sex, or so I thought. We didn’t exactly talk a lot except on missions.”

The Rolling Stones song had ended several minutes before, and Nancy went over to the jukebox, looking over the selection for a moment before picking out a few more songs. The first one was an Eagles tune, The Heart of the Matter. When she returned to the bar Steve looked at her with questioning eyes. She shrugged her shoulders in reply then jerked her head over towards the end of the bar in the universal language of “let them talk.”

“I’m going to give you two some privacy,” said Steve, picking his drink up and following Nancy to the end of the bar.

It was as if the couple didn’t even hear him as they kept their eyes only on each other without saying anything verbally. Bucky ran his hand through his hair then looked at Lane as if searching for the right words to begin this long overdue conversation.

“What’s he like?”

“Danny?” She smiled with fondness. “He’s amazing. Sweet, curious, adventurous. He has your eyes and hair.”

“Is he enhanced?”

She nodded. “He eats more than I do, can hear people talking in whispers, runs faster than a teenager. He’s so strong, likes to lift up the couch for me when I vacuum.”

“Who’s looking after him while you’re here?”

“I have a nanny,” said Lane. “Her name’s Carol and she’s become my best friend. She’s offered to adopt him, but I want her to have her own life, not one that’s been forced on her.”

Swallowing noticeably, Bucky nodded, becoming mute for several long moments. “Your cancer, you’ve tried everything?”

“Yeah, although Bruce is willing to try one more thing,” she replied. “It’s a long shot. He’s going to try to replicate the serum out of Steve’s blood. I might not have enough time left for him to be successful.”

Bucky swallowed hard, as he clamped his jaw shut, trying to tamp down the emotions that were trying to erupt from within.

“We really messed things up, didn’t we? I’m so sorry I stopped trying to find you.”

“I should have trusted you, but I couldn’t believe that you really loved me,” said Lane. “You were so handsome, and I’d see you flirting with all the women. I imagined that once you found someone more interesting that would be it for me.”

“It was always you,” answered Bucky, his voice breaking. “You made me feel things I never expected to feel again. Making love to you was like a religious experience.”

Lane touched his right hand and he enclosed her hand in his, looking at her tear filled eyes. “Stay with me until the end,” she whispered. “Be with me. Help me.”

Pulling her into his arms Bucky kissed her fiercely, as they both began to cry. At that moment the Beatles song We Can Work It Out began playing and Bucky stopped crying then smirked, as he looked at where Nancy was at the end of the bar.

“Were you a therapist in a previous life?” he asked. “These songs … I mean, really?”

She smiled. “Nope, just a bartender. You’re not the first person to have a heart to heart talk with a loved one in here. After a while I kinda get an idea of what they need to resolve things. You have resolved your issues, right? You’re getting back together and you’re going to accept the mantle of fatherhood?”

“Yeah, I am on both counts,” he said, holding Lane’s hands and gazing at her. “I’ll even retire from the Avengers just to be with you.”

“No, don’t do that,” smiled Lane. “I’ll come back to the Tower. Tony offered me a place to stay while …. He’s sorry for doubting you. Sharon had almost everyone fooled, except you, Steve, and Peter. On the way here Steve said you didn’t trust her at all.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “She was always leaning in too close, flipping her hair at me, touching my arm … it put me off. I never thought she would stoop even lower by planting her underwear in the bed. No wonder you left without a word. You must have thought I was the worst type of man to cheat on you while you went to be with your mother.”

“I should have talked to you about it,” answered Lane, “but I just lost it and wanted to get out of there before you returned. Wanda guessed and tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn’t listen. Promise me that we don’t do anything stupid like that again.”

“I promise,” he replied, then he stood up and drained the rest of his glass, before looking over at Steve. “You didn’t happen to bring a truck, did you?”

“The big SUV,” replied Steve. “There’s room in the back for your motorcycle.”

Putting money on the counter for the drinks and picking his bag off the floor, Bucky smiled at Nancy. “Thanks for the drinks, the music, and the sympathetic ear.���

“You’re welcome,” she answered, “and if the Avengers ever want to join any of the runs the Silver Wolves do for charity, you’re more than welcome. The more the merrier and maybe having you guys involved will increase participation.”

To the sounds of Let’s Stay Together by Al Green, the three of them raised their hands in farewell, and headed out to the SUV, parked next to the motorcycle. The two super soldiers had it loaded inside the SUV within minutes and Bucky took his leathers off so he would be more comfortable in the vehicle. When they got back inside the city Lane asked Friday to direct Steve to a certain address.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“My place,” said Lane, looking back at Bucky, sitting in the back seat. “Someone has to meet his father for the first time. I’d rather do it in a quiet environment.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Bucky sat back and began to prepare to meet his son. No matter what, he was going to make it work. He owed that to Lane and Danny, owed them for four years of separation. In the time Lane had left, Bucky planned to make their life all about her and their son.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Five months later

“Are you sure you want Bucky here when we start the treatment?” asked Bruce. “I honestly don’t know what your reaction will be to it. We’ve tested it against your blood samples and Shuri ran the virtual simulations but until we actually start to infuse you with the serum ….”

Tiredly, Lane smiled at the gentle doctor. He, along with Dr. Cho and Shuri, had done so much to try to get a working serum ready for her. Even though she was weak she grasped his hand with all the strength she could muster in her left hand, the wedding band loose on her ring finger, her thin and wispy hair barely grown back.

“He’ll be okay,” she said, in her almost whispery voice. “I know he doesn’t like hospitals and doctors, but he trusts you three and if it gets to be too much, he’ll deal with it.”

“Alright, I’ll call him up,” said Bruce.

Down in the lounge Bucky sat with Danny on his lap, watching a Disney movie with the others. Although he found it hard to concentrate on the movie, as he waited for the announcement, he was glad to be there with everyone. In the months since he and Lane reconciled they had been through so much; being with her as her cancer got worse, getting married, then officially adopting Danny as his son. Although he was listed as the father on his birth certificate, Tony’s lawyer said the adoption would remove any doubt about him being the boy’s legal guardian. Combined with treatments to keep Lane comfortable as the cancer wreaked havoc with her body while Bruce and the others worked non-stop on a serum for her, it had been a whirlwind time for the couple. Without everyone’s support he wasn’t sure he could have handled it as well as he did.

“Sergeant Barnes?” said Friday. “They’re ready to begin the infusion. Mrs. Barnes would like you to be there.”

“Thank you, I’ll be right up,” he said, then looked at his son. “I’m going up to be with Momma now. You stay with Uncle Steve, okay?”

Smiling, Danny changed laps, plopping himself down on Steve’s legs and getting a quick cuddle in response. Bucky stood up and gently mussed Danny’s hair before walking to the elevator. There were several murmured “good luck” wishes and he smiled slightly at everyone before stepping through the opening doors. When the doors opened on the medical floor, he was greeted outside the medical lab door by a nurse, who directed him to wash his hands, put on the gown, gloves, and mask before smiling at him to go on in. Nodding his thanks he entered the isolated treatment room, and sat on the chair beside Lane, grasping her hand in his. Bruce and Dr. Cho, also gowned up, had the infusion all set up. It’s bright blue colour seemed to look the same as what Bucky remembered his serum looked like. Steve had seen it on the internal camera system, as only Bucky was allowed to visit, and had said the same.

“Now, we expect that just like your serum and Steve’s, that it will have a burning sensation as it flows through Lane’s veins,” stated Bruce. “We don’t want to interfere with the process so there won’t be any pain relief. I’m sorry in advance if it hurts. By Shuri’s extrapolations the healing effects of the serum should be evident within half an hour but in reality it could be faster or it could take longer. We just don’t know for sure.”

“Bruce,” whispered Lane. “Just do it. Please.”

Nodding self-consciously he started the infusion pump and both doctors watched the readouts on the virtual imaging system that watched the infusion entering Lane’s circulatory system. Within a minute it was obvious she was in discomfort as her breathing became laboured. Her heart rate increased, as did her blood pressure and respiration rate. She squeezed Bucky’s hand and began to gasp as the pain became harder to take.

“It’s okay, you can yell,” said Bucky. “I did. So did Steve. Do what you have to.”

Giving in to the burning sensation that filled her body Lane began to whimper, which built into cries, then screams. She was already restrained but her body pulled against the padded straps that held her down. Bucky tried not to show any fear, but he buried his forehead onto her hand that he was holding, trying to will his body to take some of the pain she was feeling.

Dr. Cho looked at the monitor. “She’s approaching the red line for heart rate and BP,” she said to Bruce, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Infusion is at 65%,” he replied. “Lane, hang in there for just another minute.”

The alarms on the monitoring equipment were all going off as Lane’s heart rate approached 200 beats per minute and her blood pressure reached a dangerous level. Bruce watched the virtual imaging system as her entire circulatory system changed colour while the serum was infused throughout. When the readout indicated that she had received 100% of the serum he shut the pump off and watched the readouts of her vital processes. Unconscious, her body started sweating profusely and Dr. Cho grabbed some heated blankets out of the warmer, layering them over Lane, to prevent her from going into shock. Bucky looked anxiously at his wife, kissing her hand and stroking it.

As her heart rate stabilized so did her blood pressure and Bruce leaned over to check her eye response. When he shone his penlight into her eyes there was a response from her pupils, but she was still unconscious.

“Lane?” he said, loudly, as he touched her cheek. “Can you hear me?”

There was no response and he looked at the readouts of her brain activity, not entirely happy with what he saw. Then Dr. Cho touched his arm, pointing to the virtual display. The blue colour of her circulatory system had spread to her entire body, including her internal organs.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said.

“What is it?” asked Bucky. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” replied Bruce. “The serum seems to be spreading into her muscle and organ tissue. Everything is blue.”

Pulling back the heated blanket from one of her legs all three of them gasped to see Lane’s leg increase in musculature, almost as if it was replacing what she had lost in the last few months. Uncovering her completely they were surprised to see it replicated on all of her limbs then Bucky let go of her left hand and they noticed her wedding ring was no longer loose.

“Does this mean it’s working?” asked Bucky.

“I think it’s making her into a super soldier,” said Bruce. “All of the blood testing and virtual simulations just showed the serum destroying the cancer but it seems to be fixing her body in the process. Both you and Steve experienced the same thing, just not as fast in your case.”

“It is made from Steve’s blood,” said Dr. Cho. “Could explain the rapid response.”

All three of them were looking up at the readouts and the virtual images, seeing the blue colour stay in her system. Her readings approached normal, at least normal by Bucky and Steve’s standards, including a body temperature that was two degrees higher than a normal human. Although Lane was still unconscious her breathing eased, and her body relaxed.

“I think we can undo the restraints,” said Bruce. “We should take a blood sample.”

As Bucky undid the restraints, Dr. Cho fastened a tourniquet around Lane’s left arm, and Bruce began listening to her heart and breath sounds with his stethoscope. After successfully taking a vial of blood from Lane’s arm Helen withdrew the needle and called Bruce to see the insertion site heal as they watched it. Both doctors smiled at each other, amazed that it actually worked. Taking a small amount of the blood in a syringe the vial was sent to the lab for the full work up. The small amount they took was smeared on a slide and both doctors inserted it under the microscope, looking at the sample before transferring the image to a split screen, comparing it to a sample taken before the infusion.

“It’s definitely changed,” said Dr. Cho. She looked up at the elapsed time. “It took only 22 minutes.”

They looked back at Bucky and Lane. He was holding her hand to his lips and murmuring to her. After several more minutes he looked up Bruce.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” he asked. “Her body has healed, right?”

“It looks like it, but we won’t know for sure until the blood work comes back, and we do another full body scan.” Bruce pulled Dr. Cho to the hallway so Bucky wouldn’t hear them. “We should do a brain scan, just to rule out a stroke. Her blood pressure was very high.”

Nodding in agreement they both went in and reset the imaging to do a detailed scan of her brain. While it was being done Bruce asked Bucky to stay in the hallway so his vibranium arm wouldn’t interfere with the process. It was a lie, but he didn’t want Bucky there if the scan showed brain damage. As the imaging confirmed there was no brain injury, he allowed the super soldier back. The blood work results also came back showing no trace of any cancer. Elapsed time since the beginning of the infusion was at 54 minutes.

“Bucky, talk to her,” said Bruce. “Maybe she’s in there and isn’t sure how to get back to you.”

“Can I get in bed with her?” he asked, receiving the okay.

Removing his shoes, mask and gown, Bucky laid beside her, putting his arm around her and cradling her close to his body. Gently, he kissed her on the forehead.

“It’s been almost an hour since they started giving you the serum,” he said softly. “We watched as your muscles came back and your breathing got better. Bruce said all the tests show you’re cured but you’re still unconscious, lost in there maybe. I never really told you that I loved you when we were together before. It wasn’t because I didn’t, it was because I was afraid to open myself up to you, afraid you would see I wasn’t good enough for you. You gave me so much, your friendship first, your love next, a son … still can’t believe I’m a father and that he likes me. Most of all you gave me what I needed, a place to call home. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that from the beginning. We wouldn’t have lost out on four years together. So, I’m telling you now. I need you Lane, my heart yearns for you, my eyes need to see you every morning, my body needs your soft warmth to make love to, every part of me is addicted to you. I’m a better man with you, a lost man without you. Please come back to me.”

His tears streamed down his cheeks as he pressed his lips onto her forehead, asking her over and over to come back. As Bruce and Dr. Cho kept monitoring her readouts, they both began to wonder if they had failed. Everything indicated she should be awake, as her body was functioning as it should, but it was like nothing was there, the spark that was Lane was gone. Bucky slowly realized that she wasn’t going to wake up and began to weep for his wife. Clutching her to his chest, he whispered about what he loved the most about her. Then he kissed her gently on the lips and prepared to get off the bed, sadly accepting that she was lost to him.

“Bucky,” she whispered, so softly that even he almost missed it. “Don’t go.”

“Lane?” He stopped moving and studied her face. “Baby, are you there?”

Her head moved slightly, and she opened her mouth. “Stay.”

Bruce came over and leaned over the couple. “Lane, can you open your eyes?”

His voice was desperate as he repeated his request. Then her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Bucky, bringing a beautiful smile to her face.

“There you are,” she said quietly. “I found you.”

Gathering her into his arms Bucky wept tears of joy at the return of his wife and mother of his son. When he kissed her on the lips her hands grasped his arms, holding on as if she was afraid of drowning. It took several requests from Bruce before Bucky let go of Lane long enough for her to be examined. As far as they could tell the cancer was completely gone and she had been transformed into a super soldier. She still seemed to be a little fuzzy but Bruce attributed that to her brain adjusting to the serum after fighting the cancer for so long.

Advising Friday to pass on the good news resulted in everyone coming up to see the couple, starting with Steve and Danny. Squirming out of Steve’s arms when he got off the elevator Danny came running into the room and threw himself on the bed, to Lane’s laughter. She looked at her son as if she had never seen him before, lovingly caressing his hair and kissing him.

“Uncle Steve says you’re strong now,” the boy said breathlessly. “Does that mean you can jump up high?”

“I don’t know,” replied Lane. “I haven’t got out bed yet. It might be a while before I feel brave enough to try. If it’s true it means you won’t be able to run away from me anymore, as I’ll be able to catch you, and tickle you until you let me kiss you.”

“Aw,” he grinned. “Momma, what about your hair?”

Lane looked at Bruce. “Well, based on how fast Steve and Bucky’s hair grows after being cut I would say you’ll probably start regrowing it in a couple of days. According to the bed monitoring system you also gained 25 lbs in muscle. I’m guessing you’ll start feeling hungry very soon.”

“It seems like forever since I last ate,” she replied. “Everything looks wonderful. All of you ….”

She began to get emotional and both Bucky and Danny hugged her. Wanda watched carefully from the end of the bed, making eye contact with Lane, who smiled and nodded at her, then hesitated when Wanda didn’t smile back.

“Well, right now you need to rest up,” said Dr. Cho then she turned to everyone else. “I want Lane in here for the night for observation. You can have a big party welcoming her back tomorrow. This is a momentous occasion.”

Everyone else left, except for Bucky and Danny, who stayed until the little boy began asking for food. Kissing Lane tenderly, Bucky picked up his son, allowing him to kiss his mother, then he took the boy down for dinner, some play time and bed. Some food was brought to Lane and she savoured every bite, telling anyone within earshot that the food was incredible. As it got dark, she asked for her bed to be pushed close to the window so she could look outside, wanting to see the moon come up in the night sky. Everything felt new again and Lane wanted to feel it all. 🌕

Several hours later Wanda entered the medical lab, nodding at the nurse who was on duty.

“I’m just here to see Lane,” she said softly.

“Go ahead, she’s awake,” replied the nurse who had just checked on her, finding her looking out the window again.

Entering the room, Wanda pulled a chair up as Lane watched her from the bed. The young witch frowned as she tried to word the question she wanted to ask, but Lane put her hand on Wanda’s arm.

“I’m not here to hurt him,” she said. “Lane died during the procedure when she suffered a stroke and had already accepted that. The serum fixed it immediately but she was already leaving when it fixed her body.”

“How did you end up in her body?” asked Wanda. “How do you have her memories?”

“Everything is different there,” said the young woman. “I wasn’t ready to cross over as I never had a great love, never knew what it was like to be with someone who worshipped her as much he did. It felt like I spent an eternity in the between place, waiting for a chance to experience the life that had been denied to me.” She wiped at the tears that came from her eyes. “She always wanted to make things right with Bucky before she moved on as she didn’t expect to survive it. She was so tired of it all and just wanted to be released from it. Lane gave it all to me, his love for her, her love for him and Danny. I love them, as much as she did.”

“But you’re not her,” said Wanda. “You don’t think he’ll realize that?”

“Even now, my original memories are fading so that only hers will be left and I’m great with that,” said the person who was becoming Lane. “My previous life wasn’t good. It was filled with sadness, violence, and pain. I never got what I wanted or needed to feel loved and cared for. Now, I have a chance for that but you’re the only one who knows the truth, the only one who can rip us apart.”

She let Wanda enter her mind and see what her life had been like before she died, before she encountered Lane in the between place that exists after life but before a person’s essence moves on. Her life had been full of abuse and violence that ultimately killed her. Yet even for all that she suffered the person who was in Lane’s body always had hope, for someone beautiful in mind and spirit to become her life partner. She had cast away the negative energy that surrounded her previous life and allowed herself to be filled with the calming energies of love, patience, and kindness.

“Alright,” smiled Wanda. “Both Bucky and Danny accept that you’re Lane. If you truthfully become her then it’s not on me to say otherwise. Promise that you won’t hurt them or leave them.”

“They’re exactly what I need to be happy,” said the other woman. “To love and to be loved is what I always wanted but never had a chance at until now.” The young witch stood up, satisfied that this new incarnation of Lane would keep her promise. “Wanda? Pietro wanted you to know that he still misses you. He said whenever you catch a flicker of light in the corner of your eye, that it’s him. He’ll wait for you, in the between place.”

“Was … was Vision there?” asked Wanda, her eyes glistening.

“No, I’m sorry, there was no one there by that name,” said Lane. “By the sound of your voice you must have loved him very much.”

“I did,” smiled Wanda, sadly. “Thank you for telling me about my brother.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lane. Then she looked out at the moon again. “It’s just as beautiful as I remember it.” 🌅

In the morning, Lane was released and walked out of the medical lab with Bucky’s arm wrapped around her waist and holding Danny’s hand in hers. Before they went to their quarters they stopped in the common area where a large paper banner was hung with the messily painted words Welcome Home Momma! There were handprints from everyone on the paper, welcoming Lane back from her brush with death. After being presented with a large cake Lane thanked everyone for supporting her and Bucky through the last 5 months. As the others went to cut it into pieces for everyone Wanda sat next to Lane and took her hand.

“I’m glad we had that talk last night,” she said quietly. “It’s obvious that you love Bucky and Danny.

“What talk?” asked Lane, puzzled. “You came to see me? I don’t remember that. I do remember that it was a beautiful full moon.”

Wanda turned her head slightly, almost as if she was listening to something faint. Then she smiled.

“I must have dreamt it,” she said. “It seemed so real. How does it feel to be a super soldier?”

“Strange,” replied Lane. “I can hear things out in the hallway but it sounds like it’s right beside me. They gave me a double serving of breakfast and I was still hungry after. Once I’m used to my strength Bucky and Steve are going to train me so I can go on missions. I can’t wait.”

Wanda’s answer was interrupted by Bucky bringing cake to Lane. As Wanda excused herself she stood a short distance away and observed the former cancer patient, realizing that whatever entity had assumed Lane’s identity was now fully integrated with the other woman’s memories. She was truly Lane Barnes now, beloved wife, doting mother, and soon-to-be super soldier for the Avengers. Everything she would ever want or need was here, friends, family, and a higher purpose with the Avengers. Maybe this was the way it was always supposed to be.

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