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dindjarindiaries · 3 days

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The End of Love

summary: After losing Hunter to both his inhibitor chip and the Empire on Bracca, you and the squad stop at nothing to bring the real him back.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: angst, panic attack, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence, mind control, hurt/comfort

rating: T

word count: 9.780k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

His golden brown eyes had never looked so empty, nor so haunted. You stood and stared at him, breathless and frozen in place. He could snap out of it. He had to.

Rex had to be wrong. He had to be.

But then Hunter raised his blaster at you. You could only shake your head at him. Any of the protests you wanted to make were lodged in your throat.

You were wrong, because Rex had to be right. There was no way that Hunter, your Hunter, would ever point his blaster at you.

You couldn’t muster the strength to grab your own weapon, even though you were the last one standing between Hunter and Omega. She had at least listened to your instructions to flee and hide, but you didn’t know how much more time you could buy her. You couldn’t fight him. You wouldn’t.

Hunter’s blaster shook in his grasp. You weren’t sure why, but it devastated you all the same. You held your hands up in surrender, your own body trembling as you swallowed past the lump in your throat. You could only manage a whisper. That was still enough for Hunter and his enhanced senses to hear.

“Please.”

But you had already lost him. He pulled the trigger, you ducked down to try to avoid the shot…

And you sat up in your makeshift bed, gasping for air.

Your hand flew to your shoulder. It was no longer bandaged, thanks to the bacta treatments, but the texture of the forming scar could still be felt underneath your fingertips. You closed your eyes and attempted to catch your breath, but you were failing.

Because this wasn’t just a nightmare you experienced while you slept. This was a nightmare you were forced to live every single day.

“Sunny?”

Omega sounded as if she was underwater as her tired voice spoke to you. She was blurred by the tears trapped within your vision. You tried to reach out for her to assure her that you were okay, but the motion was scrambled in your own panic and devastation. Omega held your hand and wrapped the other around your arm.

Omega’s voice rose to a volume loud enough for the others to hear her. “Echo, help!” You pressed the heel of your free hand to one of your eyes as your body started to rack with frantic sobs. “It’s Sunny!”

It only took a few more desperate breaths for Echo to show up. Then there was a hand running soothing circles over your back, and a calming voice attempting to ground you back to your cruel reality. “Okay, Sunny. Tell me five things you can see.”

You worked your throat to speak around the pitiful sobs that tore through it. “Hunter…”

“Not inside your head.” Echo gave your back a gentle pat. “Out here. Open your eyes and tell me what you see.”

You obeyed, fighting the panic that seized your very heart as you did so. “I see Omega.” The young girl smiled at you, a gesture that was obvious even through the blurriness of your tears. “The weapons station. Hyperspace.” You looked down. “The blanket.” You wanted to cry for a completely different reason when you spotted the fifth thing sitting right in your lap, no doubt the work of Omega. “And… Lula.”

“Good.” Echo nodded in your periphery. “Now give me four things you can touch.”

You gave Omega’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Omega.” Your free hand lowered to your lap, just as your gaze had. “The blanket. Lula.” You searched for something else nearby, but came up empty—until Echo offered you his hand. “You.”

“That’s it.” Echo’s smile was evident in his voice. “You’re making great progress. You know what’s next.”

You nodded, because this exact process had become routine in the weeks after Bracca. “I can hear your voice, the hyperspace vibrations, and…” you strained for one more, “Wrecker’s snoring.”

Omega giggled. That at least got you to crack a smile.

Echo also chuckled. “What else?”

“I smell leather and a bunch of other confusing, gross smells that this squad can’t get rid of for some reason.”

That got even heartier laughter out of both Echo and Omega. “Damn right, Sunny.” He patted your back again. “One more.”

You glanced at your nearby canteen. “I could taste water if I drank from that.”

Echo bobbed his head. “Sure, I’ll take it.”

With your vision now clear and your chest rising and falling in normal breaths, you looked between Echo and Omega, who were equal parts relieved and sympathetic. You hung your head in defeat as you exhaled a heavy breath. “Thank you both. Again.”

“You don’t have to thank us.” Omega sounded just like Hunter as she offered reassurance. She squeezed your hand. “We’ll always help you.”

You lifted your head back up and caught Echo gesturing with his head towards Omega. “What she said.”

You shook your head, the weight on your shoulders causing them to deflate. Your eyes fell closed and your voice grew smaller. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.”

“It won’t be much longer at all.” Your eyes shot open at Echo’s words. He awaited your stare with a small smile. “We found him.”

You blinked at him, your jaw dropping in pure disbelief. You had lost count of the amount of days it had been ever since Bracca, but each one had felt like a lifetime in its own right. You had been so ready to give up completely. “Really?”

“Really?” Omega repeated your word with more enthusiasm.

Echo nodded. “Really.”

His confirmation opened up an endless stream of words and wonders from within you. “Where is he? Has he gone far? Is he alone?”

Echo set his hand over yours again. “He’s on Kaller.” Your eyes widened at that. “He must be looking for the Padawan he saved back when we first got the order.” Echo exhaled and looked away from your gaze. “Tech said Crosshair’s not with him.”

Your lips tightened at that. You had all been hoping that you could get them together and bring them both home.

“Where’s Crosshair?” Omega sounded hopeful, clearly still elated by the idea of Hunter being found. You had certainly been taking Hunter’s absence the hardest, but Omega was just behind you in that regard.

“We’re still not sure. Because he’s been placed in high command, he’s harder to track.”

You let go of Omega’s and Echo’s hands and held Lula instead, hugging the tooka doll closer to your chest. “Are we heading there now?”

Echo nodded again. “We are.”

You frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve woken me up.”

Echo softened and tilted his head at you. “Because, Sunny, you need all the rest you can get right now.”

You handed Lula off to Omega and prepared to stand. “Well, now I’m awake.” You stretched. “Let’s start planning.”

Echo sighed, though the fond smile on his lips proved it was far from being one of annoyance. “Yeah, we had a feeling you’d say that.” He started to stand with you and turned his head over his shoulder. “Tech, time to wake up Wrecker.”

“Affirmative.” Tech sounded just as alert as Echo was. You huffed to yourself; they had clearly been spending their watch shift locating Hunter, and then starting a plan. You might have had the most special connection to Hunter, but you were far from the only person who wanted him back, desperately.

Not just wanted, though. Needed.

“I’m coming to help, too.” Omega’s mind was made up, and the chin she lifted at both you and Echo proved it. The two of you shared a look before you both nodded at her.

You, Echo, and Omega all headed to the hold, where Tech and a half-awake Wrecker were awaiting you. Tech and Wrecker remained seated where they were, while Echo stood by Tech’s chair and Omega leaned against Wrecker’s. You paced the floor, your arms crossed and your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

“Our current inference is that Hunter has been assigned a miniscule squad.” Tech wasted no time getting right to it. “Despite this, it would be wisest to prepare for more numbers.”

“Exactly.” Echo was just as focused as you were, now. “Especially if we think they’re looking for a Jedi.”

“I will land the ship just outside the perimeter of the clearing where we last fought on Kaller.” Tech typed on his datapad, no doubt making note of the plans as a backup—or for his own research. “I advise splitting into teams.”

“I agree.” Echo nodded in Wrecker and Omega’s direction. “Tech, Wrecker, and Omega, you should all stick together and act as a distraction. We need to keep Omega away from Hunter for now. Sunny…” he paused and let his gaze flicker over to you, “we’ll go after him.”

You froze in place, the image of Hunter standing across from you on Bracca yet again haunting your mind. You were torn; you wanted nothing more than to see him again, even if he was still trying to kill or capture you, but you couldn’t forget the hesitation you had the last time you were forced to face him.

Ultimately, you let out a soft, defeated sigh. “I’m not sure if I can, Echo.”

Echo’s brow furrowed in determination. “If any of us can get through to him, it’s you.” Echo offered you a nod. “You can do this.”

Your haunted mind replayed that moment on Bracca, but this time, it focused in on Hunter’s shaking blaster. You couldn’t help but think, or maybe hope, that the trembling was indicative of him trying to fight the chip. If it was, then it proved Echo’s words to be true. You could have a chance of getting through to him.

And that was a chance you had no choice but to take.

You steadied yourself with another breath before you nodded. “Okay.” You resumed your pacing, even as you continued. “So, let’s say you and I succeed, Echo, and we get Hunter. What next? Do we go back to Bracca?”

Tech lifted a finger. “It is either the Jedi cruiser on Bracca or Kamino.” He adjusted his goggles as his brow rose. “Though Kamino is not much of an option, given our present… unfavorability with the Empire and the regs.”

“It has to be Bracca.” Echo was set on it. “We just have to make sure he stays unconscious until then.”

You tightened your jaw and gripped your upper arms tighter. The thought of keeping Hunter unconscious, no matter his current state of mind, was unsettling. You didn’t want him hurt.

That was what had made this situation so difficult for you in the first place. You knew Hunter, and you knew how he would feel the second he realized what had happened and what he, or at least his body, had done.

That was going to hurt him more than any physical wound ever could.

You stopped your pacing and faced the group. “That’s it, then?”

Echo and Tech shared a look before nodding. Echo provided the verbal confirmation. “That’s it.”

“Wait.” Wrecker’s voice betrayed his confusion, as did the furrow between his brows. “Who’s going to get Hunter?”

Tech frowned. “Echo and Sunny. We have already reviewed this.” He huffed and looked back at his datapad. “Perhaps if you paid attention.”

“I’m still wakin’ up!” Wrecker stretched out his arms. “It could be the middle of the night for all we know.”

Tech tilted his head. “On which planet, exactly?”

Echo sighed. “That’s enough of that.” He leveled both Tech and Wrecker with stern looks before walking over to you. He set his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We need to get ready. We should be dropping out of hyperspace soon.”

You lifted your brow. “We were that close?”

The corner of Echo’s mouth rose in a smile. “We were.”

You let out another steady exhale as the shock of all these quick developments began to sink in. Echo, recognizing this, took a step back as you gestured with your head towards the weapons station. “I’m gonna take some time to prepare.”

Echo nodded in understanding. “Take as long as you need, Sunny.”

You offered him a small smile of your own before you headed back towards your makeshift bed. Once you got there, you reached forward to pull the blanket off the item you kept hidden in the corner, close to the place where you rested your head every night to sleep.

It was Hunter’s helmet, the only piece of himself he had left behind on Bracca.

You held it between your hands and set it on your lap, with your legs crossed and folded underneath you. The empty visor stared back at you, familiar and comforting enough to make the corners of your lips twitch upwards. You lifted the helmet as you lowered your forehead, allowing the two to meet as your eyes fluttered closed.

You had found him, and you weren’t going to leave without him. You weren’t sure whether it was the stars, the Force, or the gods responsible for this chance, but you didn’t hesitate to thank them all. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“Are you nervous?”

Omega’s voice made you jump as you opened your eyes and lowered Hunter’s helmet back to your lap. She wore a sheepish smile as she sat across from you.

“I think we’ll get him this time.” Omega’s innocent eyes bore into yours, as if she was silently begging you for reassurance. “Do you?”

You had always vowed to be nothing but honest with Omega, mostly because she could sense a lie better than anyone else you had ever known, and you were able to do the same now. “I do.”

You handed Hunter’s helmet to her. Omega took it, her gaze giving it a once-over as her chest inflated with a soft inhale. She then hugged the helmet against herself, closing her eyes just as you had before. “I can’t wait for him to be home.”

You maneuvered yourself to Omega’s side and set your hand upon her back. “Me too.” She leaned into you, and you rested your head against hers. “And he may not be thinking about it yet because of that chip, but I’m sure he can’t wait to be back, either.”

Omega reopened her eyes and looked up at you. “Are you gonna tell him?”

You blinked at her. “Tell him what?” Your chest flared with panic at her knowing more than you wanted her to.

Instead, Omega’s gaze gestured to your shoulder. “About your scar.”

You twisted your lips. “I have a feeling he’ll already know.”

Omega’s expression fell. “You mean… you think Hunter will remember everything he’s doing?”

You gave her a solemn look. “Do you remember when Rex told us about the chips at Cid’s?” You paused, giving Omega time to recall the memory. Once she nodded, you went on. “He said it wasn’t something that could be controlled. He would’ve only known that if he experienced it for himself, and remembered it all.”

Omega’s sweet eyes searched yours before she lowered her focus to the helmet in her lap. She hugged it just a bit tighter and let out a worried sigh. “He’ll be so upset.”

You offered her an encouraging smile. “But at least he’ll have us.” Omega’s gaze flickered back up to yours. “We can help him through it.”

Omega returned your smile and nodded once more to agree with you. She rested her head against you again, and you assumed the same position as before. The two of you sat together with Hunter’s helmet in peaceful silence until the Marauder jolted out of hyperspace.

Echo poked his head inside Omega’s makeshift room. “We’re here.”

Your stomach fluttered with a confusing mixture of anxiety and excitement as you acknowledged him with a nod. You focused back on Omega as you held her face between your hands. “Ready?”

Omega set her jaw as her kind gaze hardened with determination. You started to smile at the traces of Hunter you saw within her. “Ready.”

Your smile widened before you bent down to give her forehead a kiss. You then eased Hunter’s helmet from her lap and put it back in its spot, though it would hopefully soon return to its proper place. Omega led the way back to the hold and the cockpit, where the rest of the squad had already gathered.

You braced your hands upon the back of Echo’s chair as you watched the atmosphere of Kaller grow closer. Everyone was holding a collective breath at the anticipation of the battle to come. There was an unspoken yet universally understood and agreed upon truth; you weren’t leaving without Hunter.

Even if that meant you didn’t leave at all.

Wrecker was the one who broke the tense silence. “Hunter’s done a lot for us.” He looked around the squad, his expression more serious than you had ever seen it. “The least we can do for him now is bring him home and save him from that chip.”

Everyone else started to nod in agreement. You, on the other hand, walked away from your place at Echo’s chair and gave Wrecker an embrace you both needed. He held you there for a few long moments, his gloved hand patting your back every once in a while. When you pulled away from each other, Wrecker set his hands on your shoulders and smiled.

He repeated Echo’s words from before. “You can do this, Sunny.”

You returned his smile and straightened your shoulders. “Thanks, Wrecker.”

You all took your seats as Tech lowered the Marauder to Kaller’s surface. Your heart leapt into your throat when you flew over an Imperial shuttle. You had half a mind to tell Tech to destroy it for fear of Hunter getting away again, but you bit your tongue. Hunter would know you were here, no doubt, but he wouldn’t run with a whole squad backing him up this time.

Once the ship was grounded and powered down, the squad rose to their feet. You triple checked all of your gear as the boys did the same. Omega had her bow and her comm, and she stuck close to Wrecker and Tech. Echo glanced at you before he spoke to the group.

“They already know we’re here.” Echo slid his helmet on as he continued. “We’ll stick together until Hunter leads them to us. That’s when we’ll split up. We’ll want to draw as many of their forces away from Hunter as possible.”

You steadied yourself with deep breaths as you nodded at him. Now that you were here, it was beginning to feel more real—and your nervousness was growing. The mere idea of facing Hunter and his activated chip again made your stomach tie into sickening knots.

Echo held up his blaster and gestured with his helmet to the open hatch. “Let’s head out.”

Echo continued to lead the way, weaving the group around the snow-covered trees until you reached the clearing from that fateful day when the war ended. You froze there for a moment, recalling the pure horror in Hunter’s voice when he realized what was happening. If only he knew then what was happening now, that the Empire had dragged him into it.

You swallowed hard and pushed on.

You descended the downward slope on the other side of the clearing and entered the density of the surrounding wood again. It was a lot harder to know when to stop without Hunter on your side. He certainly would’ve been able to hear them and sense their location by now.

Echo held up his scomp, a substitution for a fist. The squad stopped, and you began to look around your surroundings in a careful circle—but you didn’t see anyone. Your heart was racing inside your tightened chest, and each fogged-up breath you took sounded louder and louder in your roaring ears.

“So, you decided to come to me first.”

Hunter.

Your knees nearly gave out at the sound of his voice. It was even lower than usual, evidence of the way the chip was corrupting him. All of your heads snapped towards the source of the sound, and you watched as he emerged from the trees.

Hunter had painted his armor entirely black, and he had been issued a helmet with a green visor, just like Crosshair’s. Those were the only noticeable differences, until he paused and lifted the helmet from his head.

Your heart pounded even more violently against your chest as you caught sight of him. He had exchanged his red bandana for a simple black that matched the rest of his armor, and rather than letting his hair flow behind him, he had tied it back, aside from the usual small pieces that framed his face. The most notable difference, however, was still his dark gaze.

It was completely empty, and it was just as haunting as you had remembered it to be—especially once it locked with your own.

“We’re here for you,” Wrecker corrected him. “We’re gonna bring you home, Sarge.”

Hunter’s gaze flickered over to Wrecker as he huffed, his jaw circling and his brow furrowing. “I don’t think so.”

He lifted his free hand and waved two fingers, drawing his Imperial forces out of the shadows. Thankfully, as you observed them all, you realized Tech’s initial thoughts were true; he only had a smaller squad with him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Hunter set his helmet back over his head. “Not this time.”

Echo held his blaster tighter. “Yeah, and neither are you.”

Hunter’s fingers fluttered at his side before he gave the command. “Fire!”

You saw what he was reaching for. You leapt forward to lower Echo’s hand, causing it to just narrowly avoid being hit with the blade Hunter had thrown to disarm him. Meanwhile, as the blaster fire started to rain down upon you, Wrecker and Tech focused on shielding Omega and leading more of Hunter’s forces away. You took Echo and hid behind the cover of a tree.

After checking that your blaster was set to stun, you leaned out and fired in Hunter’s direction. He ducked behind a nearby tree, hiding from your shots. You took the opportunity to hop over to the trunk beside Echo’s, letting each of you have your own space.

“Go after them,” you heard Hunter instruct his troopers. He gestured with his helmet in Wrecker, Tech, and Omega’s direction. “The rest of you are with me. We’re going after those two.”

Echo tilted his helmet at you. “Told you, Sunny.” He chuckled and lifted his blaster. “Even with the chip, he can’t resist you.”

You rolled your eyes, and despite the severity of the moment and the anxious trembling that threatened to overtake your entire body, the corners of your lips turned up in an amused smile. “Let’s make sure we get him far away from the others.”

Echo nodded to agree with you. This time, you led the way, diving between the trees to avoid any of the blaster fire that was aimed in your direction. Echo was just behind you the entire time, and every once in a while, he shot off some stuns of his own.

You went far enough for the sounds of Wrecker, Tech, and Omega’s pursuers to disappear. Only at that point did you speak up to Echo through your panting breaths. “What now?”

Echo got a few more shots off before answering. “I have a theory to test.” He caught up to your side and nodded. “I’m gonna split off and see if he sends them after me.”

Your eyes widened. “You think Hunter will go after me alone?”

“Like I said.” Echo dodged a blaster bolt and hid behind a tree trunk. “I’m testing a theory!” He tapped his helmet. “We’ll comm if it doesn’t work!”

You inhaled before ultimately nodding at him. Echo patted you on the shoulder before he split off to the right, drawing their fire as he wove through the trees. You continued to the left and tried not to worry about him, or yourself. There was a high possibility that one of you could end up being the focus of all their firepower.

But deep down, you knew Echo was right, because you had seen it somehow inside Hunter’s empty gaze. There was a part of him that couldn’t keep himself from focusing on, and ultimately pursuing, you—and you could only hope it was the good part of him.

You heard the crunch of a branch from close behind you, and you didn’t have a chance to turn your head over your shoulder to see who it was. The same blade from before was whizzing through the air, thrown at just the right angle to catch the material of your shirt and pin you to the nearest tree trunk. Only one person could have an aim that precise.

You holstered your blaster to focus on pulling yourself free from the blade. Hunter was closing the distance quickly, and you weren’t waiting around to find out what he would do next. You cried out with effort as you managed to tear the blade from the bark. Instantly, you threw it back in his direction, missing on purpose so that it solely served as a distraction. It hit the bark of the tree across from you, and Hunter pulled it free without missing a beat as he barreled towards you.

You stumbled back and grabbed your blaster, holding it with both hands as you prepared to pull the trigger and stun him. Hunter stepped close enough to knock the weapon from your hands, though your sidestep kept him from getting any other hits in. You blocked each one of his blows, suddenly grateful for the long, grueling training sessions that he would do with you back during the war. You refused to go on offense, instead doing whatever you could to keep him from hurting you—for his own sake.

But being forced backwards wasn’t a stable way to fight. You soon tripped over a fallen branch, and that gave Hunter a window to kick your middle. You lost your breath the moment your back connected with a tree trunk, and in a flash, Hunter was upon you. His blade was at your throat, and his knee was pressed between your legs, keeping you in place.

Your eyes went wide, especially as Hunter took the liberty of removing his own helmet with his free hand. Your chest rose and fell in quick breaths, but all you could focus on was him. There had to be a piece of him left in his gaze, but all you could see was darkness, the same darkness that had been plaguing your nightmares ever since Bracca.

He shouldn’t have been hesitating to slit your throat, yet he was. The edge of his blade was kissing your skin, flirting with the very real possibility of swift death, but he wouldn’t make that final move.

The real him was still in there.

“Hunter.” Your voice was softer and calmer than you expected it to be, nothing more than an intimate whisper of his name. His brow was still furrowed, but you could see a muscle in his jaw flex. You swallowed hard, feeling the blade bob on your throat, and went on. “H.”

Hunter blinked at you. His brow softened for a split second, but then the knit returned with even more ferocity than before. “Don’t call me that.” His voice was a sneer. “Traitor.”

You remained soft, even if every single survival instinct inside you was screaming to tense up and fight for your life. “Come home, H.” You repeated the only thing you could say to him on Bracca. “Please.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, but you couldn’t be fooled. The blade had started to tremble slightly against your skin, and just as Echo had worked on his theory before, you started to work on your own.

“I’m sorry.” You let the genuine, raw truths spill from your tongue as you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have waited until now to say this, because you deserved to hear this truth from me a long time ago.”

Hunter growled and tightened his grasp on the hilt of his blade. “Don’t.”

You ignored him. “I love you.” Your vision started to go blurry as tears pooled at your waterline. Your lips were trembling just as much as Hunter’s blade was. “I’ve loved you for a long time, but I wasn’t brave enough to say it. Not until I had to face a reality where I had lost you.”

Hunter blinked, his brow relaxing again as he absorbed your words. The shaking of the blade worsened, but he still didn’t lower it. Even your blurry vision could still make out the small, golden flecks that began to faintly illuminate his gaze. A piece of him was here with you now, and he was fighting to be here.

“I love you, H.” You dared to lift a hand to his tattooed cheek, your thumb tracing the outline of it as you did so. Your voice lowered back to a hushed whisper. “Let me bring you home. Please.”

Hunter’s gaze searched yours. Most of it was still dark, but that growing light was unmistakable, as was the trembling weapon against your throat—and the tear that fell from his eye. You caught it on your thumb.

He needed one last push to give himself completely over to you, if only for a moment, and you were going to take your opportunity to provide it.

Your free hand caught his wrist and moved it just enough to let you lean forward, sealing your lips over his. The hand on his cheek snaked back to the nape of his neck, securing him in place against you. Hunter hesitated to respond, but the moment your fingertips threaded into the hair that was secured at the back of his head, he gave in.

The blade fell from his hand and clattered to the ground as he instead focused on holding you against him. You were hit with a confusing mixture of emotions, with relief and pure love reigning above all the others, but there was also a strong trace of guilt—because as much as you wanted this, you couldn’t forget the reason why you were doing it.

And as you pushed your tongue through his parted lips, you drew his blaster from his holster, switching it stun and pulling the trigger against his armored chest.

Hunter froze, the shock of the stun running through him. You didn’t break away from him just yet, instead continuing to hold the back of his neck as you whispered your apology against his lips. “I’m sorry.”

When his knees gave out, you went with him, supporting him the best you could to ease his descent to the ground. It was only then, when you had his head cradled in your lap, that you realized how damp your cheeks had become from your own tears.

Your actions were numb as you kept one hand on his face and used the other to lift your comlink to your lips. “I got him.” Your voice shook, though you tried to project as much strength into it as you could muster. “I’m gonna need some help to—.”

“I’m on my way.” It was Wrecker who answered with protective decisiveness. The words brought a small smile back to your lips.

“So am I.” Echo sounded slightly out of breath, no doubt preoccupied with eliminating the threats that had trailed him. “I’ll be there in a minute or two.”

“Omega and I are en route to the ship,” Tech added. “I will bring it closer to facilitate a more expedient exit.”

You listened to their voices as you hung your comlink back on your belt and reached for your blaster in the snow. You then disarmed Hunter of his weapons and kept them tucked into other places on your belt. Keeping your blaster drawn, you held it at the ready, though it was trembling in your hand similarly to the way it had trembled in his on Bracca.

But this time, he wasn’t getting away. He was finally coming home.

Still, your shoulders weighed heavy with guilt at the things you had to do to him, and the fact he could potentially see your love confession as nothing more than a calculated tactic to get through to him. Nothing would devastate you more than him doubting the truth, especially when you had meant every single word of it.

You continued to repeat an apology to him as your free hand cupped the side of his face. Your gaze ran along the lines of his relaxed expression until they led you back to his hair. You took a deep breath and reached back to free it from its restraint, marking the first official step in bringing back the man who was trapped within his own, traitorous body.

You were so focused on Hunter that you didn’t even hear Echo’s approach. He was suddenly kneeling on Hunter’s other side, his blaster holstered and his hands lifting his helmet from his head. He wore the same expression that he did when he helped you through your nightmare-induced panic attacks.

“You did it, Sunny.” Echo’s voice was softer than you had ever heard it, and he reached forward to rest his hand over the one that was clutching your blaster. He lowered the weapon for you and nodded. “Just like I said.” The corner of his mouth rose in an amused grin. “I knew my theory would work.”

You huffed and raised an eyebrow. “You sound like Tech.”

Echo chuckled and shrugged. “Yeah, this entire squad’s starting to rub off on me, I guess.” He put his helmet back on as you holstered your weapon. “Let’s try to get him up.”

You nodded and reached for Hunter’s arm, waiting until Echo was ready to hoist him up. You set his arm over your shoulders and pushed up until you and Echo were back on your feet. Hunter’s limp head hung between you, and his boots dragged over the snow as you and Echo headed back to the clearing. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from externally reacting to the sight of Hunter like this, but even that couldn’t prevent Echo from knowing you as any good family member would.

“He’ll be thanking you for this once the chip’s out.” Echo’s visor glanced in your direction. “You know that, right?”

You closed your eyes and exhaled a steady breath. “It’s more than stunning him and dragging him around, Echo. It’s…” You paused, uncertain if you could even bring your fears to words.

“And like I said, he’ll thank you for it.” Echo remained firm in his reassurance. “Whatever it is that broke through to him.”

Your shoulders fell in defeat, but before Echo could question you about it, Wrecker burst through the trees. “There… you… are!” He was out of breath as he reached forward to take his brother’s limp body from you and Echo. “You guys… went far.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, that was the idea.” You smiled as Wrecker tossed Hunter over his shoulder, and once he was settled, you hugged Wrecker on his open side. “Thank you for coming.”

Wrecker held your shoulder with his free hand and echoed Omega’s words from earlier that morning. “You don’t have to thank me.” He secured his hold on Hunter and nodded. “Now let’s bring ‘im home.”

You grinned wider at that. The more members of the squad that you saw, the better you began to feel about it all. Your guilt still loomed like a shadow over your mind and your heart, but this family was a light that began to illuminate your darkest corners.

Echo and Wrecker stood close to both sides of you, keeping you in the warmth of their realms as the three of you made your way back to the clearing. The Marauder was waiting there for you, just as Tech had promised. Omega was waiting on the steps that had been lowered from the hatch, and as soon as the three of you stepped out of the surrounding wood, she gasped and ran forward.

“You did it!” Omega was smiling as she closed the distance to your group. You fully expected her to go to Wrecker and Hunter first, but instead, she went right up to you. Omega threw her arms around you and let the side of her face smush against your middle. “I knew you could do it, Sunny.”

You were too choked up to respond with your words, so you settled for holding her back just as tightly. Her pure love was a healing balm for your very soul. You hoped she knew that—and somehow, you knew that she did.

“Let’s keep celebrating inside the ship.” Echo was gentle with his directive as Omega stepped away from you. “We should get going so we can make it before he wakes up.” Echo nodded towards Hunter on Wrecker’s shoulder.

Your gaze fell to your feet. You didn’t like remembering that it was you who had put him in such a state.

Omega held your hand, drawing your attention back to her. Her eyes were wide with a sympathy that was genuine rather than pitiful. She kept her hand in yours the entire way back to the ship, only letting go once you were settling yourself next to where Wrecker had eased Hunter down onto the floor of the ship.

Hunter’s upper half rested upon the interior hull, his head and shoulders slouching under the weight of his unconsciousness. Either Wrecker or Echo had already taken care of restraining his wrists, in the event that he woke up and tried to fight. You steadied yourself with a breath and closed your eyes as you exhaled. It would all be over soon.

When you reopened your eyes, you caught Echo’s gaze from across the ship. Wrecker had taken Omega to the cockpit to witness the takeoff back to Bracca. Echo made his approach and knelt down in front of you and Hunter.

“If he wakes up,” you warned him in a low yet honest voice, “I won’t be able to do it again, Echo.”

“I understand.” Echo set a hand on your shoulder. “And you won’t have to.” He gestured back to the chairs behind him. “We’ll be right here, ready to do it for you.”

You smiled in the best show of gratitude you could muster. Echo squeezed your shoulder before he stood back up and returned to his chair. As soon as the hull at your back began to hum with the familiar sensation of hyperspace, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega were all joining you, too. Omega sat at Hunter’s other side, her head resting against his arm, while Wrecker and Tech stayed at the ready by Echo.

After a drawn-out stretch of silence, with tension thick enough to have been cut by your blade if you tried, Tech dared to speak—which hardly surprised anyone. “I must ask, Sunny.” He adjusted his goggles before going on. “How exactly did you succeed in… apprehending him?”

Wrecker swatted Tech’s shoulder hard enough to make him grunt in both surprise and pain. “You actually don’t have to ask that!”

“On the contrary,” Tech narrowed his eyes as his hand rubbed his sore shoulder, “this could be vital information should we run into another individual whose inhibitor chip is active.” He inhaled a gentle breath before going on. “Such as Crosshair.”

You ran your thumb over your forehead and sighed. “What I did won’t work on Crosshair.” You gained the faith to look up, just to see the entire squad staring back at you. Even Omega had lifted her head from Hunter’s arm. You steadied your shoulders and returned their eager gazes. “It won’t work on anyone.”

Tech raised an eyebrow. “Well, clearly…” He gestured towards Hunter.

You mumbled, “Anyone except Hunter.”

The ship fell silent before Tech yet again spoke up. “Ah.” His furrowed brow relaxed as his gaze cut away from you. “I see.”

Wrecker gave Tech’s shoulder another nudge. “I told ya’ you didn’t have to ask.”

“All that matters is that Sunny did it.” Echo finally entered the conversation with a voice of reason. “The next thing we have to focus on is getting to Bracca and removing Hunter’s chip.” Echo’s gaze caught yours. “Not the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ behind what’s already been done.”

Your lips stretched up in a small smile as you mouthed a silent Thank you to him. While you usually wouldn’t mind Tech pressing for information, this situation was more delicate than any other. You were having a hard enough time coming to terms with what you had to do to get through to Hunter.

Even if it had worked.

Echo kept Tech and Wrecker busy by discussing plans for getting to the Jedi cruiser on Bracca as fast as possible. You should have been participating in the discussion yourself, but you instead took the opportunity to wallow in your own self-pity, and to come up with things you would say if Hunter woke and immediately questioned everything you had said to him.

It was in the midst of this that you hear Omega’s hushed voice from Hunter’s other side. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about it.”

Your eyes widened as your head slowly turned in her direction. Omega’s brown gaze was piercing, but not in an uncomfortable way, as it flickered over your own expression. Even at her young age, she exuded a wisdom and a peace that was difficult to bring to words.

“He would have done the same to bring you back.” Omega nodded and gestured to the rest of the squad. “We all would.”

You let out a breathy chuckle and shook your head. “I’m not sure about that.”

Omega began to wear an amused smile. “You mean the kissing, and the ‘I love—.’”

“Shhh!” You held a finger to your lips and cut your gaze at the boys. They were still talking amongst themselves, completely unaware about whatever you and Omega were discussing. You narrowed your eyes at Omega. “How did you know that?”

Omega giggled and shrugged. “I guessed.” She snapped her fingers and pointed them at you like a blaster. “And I was right.”

You returned her smile, but only for a moment. It faded as your worries, and the overall heavy weight of the entire situation, settled over you once again. You closed your eyes and let out a long exhale. “It worked, Omega, but if I’m being honest?” You reopened your eyes to look at her. “I don’t know if I should’ve done it.”

Omega’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

You couldn’t meet her gaze as you instead studied the lines of Hunter’s face beside your own. He could always calm you down, even if he wasn’t awake to do it. “Because I don’t want him to think I didn’t mean it.”

Omega blinked once, then twice. She reached her hand over Hunter to quietly ask for yours. You accepted her small hand in your grasp, which left your entwined hands on Hunter’s armored thigh. Her stare never left yours as she went on. “Did you say it with your brain, Sunny,” she tapped the side of her head with her free hand, “or your heart?” She lowered her palm against her chest.

You took a gentle breath before answering. “My heart.”

Omega offered a small smile and a quick squeeze of her hand. “Then he’ll know the truth.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think he already knew.”

You narrowed your eyes at her again. “Why would you think that?”

Omega gave you a knowing look. “Everybody knows, Sunny.” She looked at the boys again, and your gaze followed hers. Their heads all whipped in different directions, as if they had just barely avoided being caught staring directly at you.

You huffed and shook your head. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to hide feelings around here.”

“The mission was to bring him back, Sunny.” Omega’s voice was nothing but warmth as she went on. “And you did.” Her eyes welled with sudden emotion, but using her strength that had always amazed you, she kept it held back. “Thank you.”

You immediately softened, the strain of her voice pulling you full-force out of your self-pity as you instead opened yourself up to her. Omega stood just enough to move from Hunter’s side to yours, her arms wrapping tight around you. You held her back and leaned your head against hers, your eyes closing as you recognized this exact scene.

It was the perfect reversal of your journey to Kaller.

You and Omega stayed like that until the Marauder exited hyperspace. You were immediately shot with a new wave of adrenaline at the thought of having Hunter back so soon. Though he had physically been here, you all were painfully aware that it wasn't really him, not until that chip was out of his head. You were going to do everything you could to make sure that happened.

Once Tech had landed the ship as close to the Jedi cruiser as he could, you all geared up again and prepared for the trek. Wrecker yet again took care of Hunter, who was somehow still unconscious, as the rest of you led the way and made the path as easy for him as possible. An unsettling wave of déjà vu settled inside you, but you tapped into your buzzing adrenaline instead.

Tech stared at his datapad as he led the group inside the Jedi cruiser. Thankfully, you had already learned all its traps the last time, and Tech had—of course—made note of them. Since the others had still taken the time to remove their chips the last time you were here, Tech was also familiar with the process, too. Everything would be expedited.

Which meant you would be facing Hunter again, your Hunter, before you could really begin to process it. That excited you and scared you more than you thought possible.

As you arrived at the infirmary and Tech began to dial up the machine again, you began to run at least a thousand possibilities about what would happen the moment he woke in his right mind again. Rather than dwelling on yourself as you had for the majority of the trip here, you focused on Hunter alone. You had to have a plan for how you would help him through his own guilt of what he had done, because it would indubiously be there.

Wrecker set Hunter down and prepared him to be operated on. You steadied yourself with a breath and made your way over to his side. Gently, you lifted a hand to his bandana and slid it off, making room for the machine to do its work. As you brought your hand back towards yourself, you let your fingertips linger on the warmth of his skin along his defined and tattooed cheekbone.

After this moment, you would no longer have to see him as a stranger. Hopefully.

You held onto the bandana and looked at Tech, who was clearly waiting on you. You nodded. “Go ahead.”

Tech returned your nod and lowered his gaze to the controls. His fingers flew across them before the machine whirred to life and eased Hunter inside. You watched, your gaze glued to the sight, until Hunter’s body stopped again.

Tech spoke into the tense silence. “The process should only require a few standard minutes.” It was no doubt his attempt at reassurance, due to the fact you had all seen before how long this process took. “Though I am uncertain how long it will be before he wakes.”

Echo, who had his arms crossed Tech’s side, was the next to speak up. “Well, we’re not going anywhere until he does.”

You nodded before glancing over your shoulder at Wrecker and Omega. He had his hands on Omega’s shoulders as she stood in front of him and stared endlessly in Hunter’s direction.

You looked around and found one of the chairs you all had utilized the last time you were here, and you pulled it right up to Hunter’s side. Looking at Omega once again, you tapped the back of the chair, inviting her to sit in it. She smiled and stepped forward, letting Wrecker’s hands fall from her shoulders as she hopped onto it.

It was exactly where she had been for the others’ chip removals, and you wanted this one to feel just as normal for her—even if it was anything but.

Meanwhile, you and Wrecker both walked back towards Tech and Echo. Everyone remained quiet with anticipation, though the unspoken sentiment of hope shined brighter than the light that poured from the working machine. Hunter’s absence had been difficult on all of you, and at last, that trying time was coming to an end. In the waiting, all you could do was fumble with the material of his bandana in your hand.

Your heart leapt into your throat the moment the machine finished. Hunter’s body slowly slid back to where it had started, his expression displaying a different kind of serene than it had before, though that may have just been you fooling yourself. You stepped forward to slip his bandana back on, minding the bandage that had already attached itself to the side of his head. You knew he would want it back on when he woke.

But before you could even finish pulling your hands away, one of your wrists was suddenly grasped by a delicate touch. You let out a soft gasp and could only stand there, blinking in surprise with your jaw dropped, as Hunter’s dark eyes fluttered open.

Only they weren’t dark anymore. They were a sweet, golden brown again, sparkling more and more the longer he looked upon you.

Omega’s gasp at your side was much louder than yours had been. It drew you and Hunter apart as you both looked over at her, seeing the uncontainable joy and relief written all over her smiling face. “Hunter?” Her utterance of his name was strained with the same emotions you had seen on her expression.

Hunter chuckled, the sound breathy as he pushed himself to sit up. “Hey, kid.”

Omega couldn’t contain herself, and you couldn’t blame her. She all but leapt from the chair into his arms, holding onto him even more tightly than she had held you before. Hunter grunted in surprise, but the sound morphed into sweet laughter as he held her back. You pressed a hand against your warm chest and tried to take it all in.

The relief. The admiration. The overwhelming love…

Your eyes were watering before you could help it. All your fears from before returned and created a confusing mixture with the overjoyed emotions that had already been devouring you whole. You were drowning in a sea of dark devastation and breathless relief; he was right here, finally back to his true self, but you weren’t sure what he would think about how it had happened.

You stepped back, making room for Hunter to approach his brothers once he was done with Omega. But when Hunter patted her back to gently ease her away from him, he only had eyes for you, and they met your gaze with a stare so powerful that you truly did lose whatever air was left inside your lungs.

Hunter stood and closed the distance over to you. You were ready to fall into his arms the moment he opened them up to you, his gloved hand holding the back of your head and inviting you to bury yourself into him. You obliged, your soft cries muffled by his armor. He was holding you in a way he never had, certainly not in front of anyone else.

He waited, his other hand running over your back in soothing strokes, until you had mostly composed yourself. Only then did he ease his hand off your head and encourage you to look at him.

You both said the same thing at the same time. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter furrowed his brow, his brown gaze studying yours as he lifted a hand to your cheek. “What are you apologizing for?”

You sniffed, your gaze falling to his chestplate as you gently pressed your hands upon it. Your voice was quiet and uncharacteristically timid as you spoke. “I shouldn’t have waited until then to say what I said.”

Hunter’s expression flashed with understanding, but you were surprised to see the corners of his mouth rising in a small smile. “You’re right.” His words made your heart drop until he caught it, using the same gentleness as the grasp he had taken on your chin to tilt your head back up at him. “You shouldn’t have had to wait, because I should have said it a long time ago.”

You blinked at him, your disbelief overwhelming every rational part of your mind. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

Hunter’s grin only widened as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. “We are.” He brought himself closer, the closest he had ever come to you with the others around, and whispered the words upon your lips. “I love you, too.”

Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t much, not with everyone’s attention on you, but it was just enough to prove that his words were anything but a simple reassurance to put you at ease. It was the wholehearted truth, one that was so easy to believe with him showing it to you by finally loving you out loud in the open for those he cared the most about to witness.

And your heart was a melted puddle in his hands, ready for him to do whatever he wished with it—because you knew it would be safe there.

When he pulled away, your gazes lingered the way you wished your lips could, the corners of your stinging mouth finally lifting the same way his had.

Unsurprisingly, it was Tech who broke the silence. “So that is the reason why your method would solely work on Hunter.”

You burst out into laughter, which only intensified as Hunter leveled his brother with a quizzical look. He wasn’t able to question it before Wrecker finally gave up on his restraint and practically barreled over to Hunter. “Welcome home, Sarge!” He cheered the words as he hugged Hunter tight enough to make him audibly gasp for air.

Hunter’s voice was a wheeze that he could only get out once Wrecker had set him down. “It’s good to be back.”

He maintained a warm smile as Echo and Tech approached him with warm handshakes and pats on the shoulder. Hunter’s expression, however, started to fall as his gaze did the very same.

“I’m sorry about everything that happened, and that you had to come after me like that.” His stare returned to you. “It was impossible to control, as much as I tried.”

Your hand mindlessly brushed over the scarred part of your shoulder. “We know.”

But that mindless action had accidentally drawn Hunter’s attention straight to the healed wound. He frowned as he walked back over to you, his gloved hand covering yours as he looked upon the scar. You couldn’t have written mortification more clearly over his face even if the word itself replaced the skull that was tattooed there.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft as you gently turned his cheek and set his stare back on your own. “Like you said, you couldn’t control it. I know that.” You nodded at the rest of the squad. “We all do.”

Hunter’s jaw circled. “Still.” His voice was much lower than before. You softened even more as you ran your thumb over his cheek. He took a deep breath and nodded at you. “I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”

You smiled at him. “You never even hurt me the first time.” Your gaze flickered over to the bandage that hid underneath his bandana. “That wasn’t you. I saw the blaster shaking. I know you were trying to fight it the best you could.”

Hunter closed his eyes in defeat, a heavy exhale falling from his lips. You leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek, which encouraged him to look up at you again. “I couldn’t fight it.” His face morphed into determination as he went on. “And I’m far from the only one who was affected by it.”

Hunter stepped back from you, inviting a patient Omega to his side as he did so. She was eager to take her place there, her arms wrapping around his waist as he set a gloved hand on her back. The sight alone warmed your body like the sunlight.

“Tech, I assume you’ve already found the most optimal route back here?”

Tech nodded. “That is precisely how I got us here this time around.”

Hunter returned his nod and set his shoulders. “Good, because we’re not done with this place yet.” He spoke with a decisiveness that made it clear he wouldn’t ever be moving on the matter. “It’s time to bring Crosshair home.”

You beamed at him, as did the rest of the squad. If you could find and bring back Hunter, then it was possible to do the same for Crosshair, too, no matter how long it had been. Hunter’s gaze found yours as he offered you a warm, loving smile that you had no choice but to return.

This time, you wouldn’t be doing it without him. He was back, as sure of himself as ever, and he wasn’t backing down on anything anymore—not on finding Crosshair, and certainly not on the way you two felt about each other. Those days of dancing around each other were over.

This nightmare would be hard to forget, but maybe it really did have a bright side after all, because it had set you inside a dream you never thought possible.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020

#i have been wanting to write this one for agessss and oops! it's twenty thousand hours long my apologies #tbb hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter tbb x reader #hunter bad batch #hunter bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #flashing gif #dindjarindiaries

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lilacxquartz · 2 days

Text

pregnancy woes;

toji fushiguro x pregnant!reader

summary: lil drabble post, i might do more pregnant reader x jjk in the future but i got a request for a milf reader x any, so here we go! requested by @lolitamermaid123 — i hope this was what you were looking for🩵

tags/themes: pregnant reader, very in love toji, praise, validation, suggestive undertones, massage — w.c: ~700

ao3 • masterlist • more drabbles

Nothing prepared you for how lovesick Toji would be when you were carrying his second child. The guy had always been sarcastic, maybe even arrogant, but never before had he been this obsessed with you. From the moment your stomach started showing visible signs of growth; he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Despite this, you didn’t quite feel the same. You didn’t deny that the miracle of life or what have you was a beautiful prospect, yes, but it was also exhausting on your body. You were not only constantly in a state of simmering fatigue, but you were once again feeling all sorts of puffy and achy with very little that could be done to alleviate the symptoms.

Yet, Toji didn’t quite see it that way. Or maybe he saw it differently. To him, you were the living embodiment of what could have been perfection in his eyes.

Every morning, without fail, he would roll over to his side and wrap his strong arms right around you and pull you in as close as he possibly could. He would bury his face right into the crook of your neck with his large hands palming over the swell of your stomach while acting surprisingly sweet—given who he was and what he did for a living.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his breath hot against the exposed area of your flesh. His voice was lower than usual and thick with sleep.

You mumbled something out in response, although it was barely coherent. You tried to shift away slightly because as it turned out, you didn’t quite feel as hot as you usually did and his touch would only feed your insecurities even further.

“Oh no you don’t,” he teased as he pulled you closer, not quite letting you get away. He could see right past you and you were being harsh on yourself—like usual—and for no good reason.

“Toji, please…” you sighed into a weary groan, appreciating his effort but feeling groggy from all of the exhaustion. “I feel so bloated and big… you wouldn’t get it…”

Toji however simply rolled his eyes. “There you go again, talking down on yourself like that. You have no idea how sexy you look to me right now and it hurts.”

You tried to stretch the remainder of the sleep away to little avail, leaning your head back against him as you finally gave into his hold. “Yeah, well it’s hard to feel sexy right now.”

He shrugged as he didn’t back down, digging his lips even further into your skin while planting lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder. His voice was laced with want and need the more he pressed himself right against you, unable to quite let you go, if at all, “You’re not seeing my vision then, huh? You don’t get it. You look so hot, so incredible like this…”

Finally, you managed to thaw into a slight smile as his words were finally starting to get to you. Even if you didn’t quite believe him fully, Toji had a knack for making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. His attention to you was dedicated and you were his only focus.

“Would be better if I wasn’t so achy though,” you slightly whined while attempting to straighten out your back.

He hummed at your statement, seemingly forming an idea in his mind. “How about a massage then? Give me an excuse to keep my hands on you.”

“That could be nice…” you admitted.

“Yeah,” Toji murmured, repositioning you gently so that you laid against his lap with your back in between his legs. You could tell that he was very excited to this, given what else you felt. “I’ll knock those knots clean out of you, babe. You won’t even know what tension is.”

“I’ll hold you to that one,” you replied, feeling already relieved from just how well his hands could work into your shoulders, kneading and squeezing in all of the right places.

In turn, he leaned down to press a kiss on top of your head as he slowly felt you come undone and relax in his company. “Trust me,” he added, “I'll do anything to help you feel good, you’re doing all the hard work after all in getting our next kid here. So leave it to me to take care of you.”

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doeidawn · 2 days

Text

☁︎ — see you next saturday

a night at the bar turns interesting when a masked stranger crosses your path. he's far from approachable, but something about him draws you in until you're coming to the bar every weekend just to see him. he's enigmatic and exciting—exactly what you needed to interrupt the monotony of life. 11.2k

⟢ pairing: ghost x f!reader

⟢ tags: MDNI/18+; author is american and apologizes in advance—this probably isn't how bars in the UK are, sorry; ghost is unnamed for 95% of the fic but it pays off; alcohol consumption (no one gets drunk, it's just some sipping); awkward first meeting; slow-burn??? idk sex doesn't happen til the very end; implied size difference; biker!ghost; semi-public sex; fingering; table sex; praise; unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it); oral sex [m receiving]; facial

Another excited cheer from the table behind you tells you that one of the football teams on screen has scored. Though you couldn’t care less about the game, you catch a glance at the television hung on the wall near the bar to watch the score rise. Aside from sipping on the same drink and watching people filter in and out all night, you didn’t have anything better to do, anyway.

A night out at the bar probably wasn’t the most efficient use of your time, or your money, but after a week of grueling work and the ever-increasing stress of life, it felt nice to ignore everything for a while. As long as you didn’t drink enough to hate yourself the next morning, who were you to deny yourself some fun? Well, as fun as watching drunk people mingle could be. A cheap local bar wouldn’t give way for much excitement.

You were almost thankful for that. The wrong kind of excitement only would’ve added to the weight on your shoulders. Yet, a part of you still yearned for something more than the monotony of asking the bartender for another round while your eyes scanned the crowds. Only two drinks in and already you were practically praying for an interesting face to look your way and add something that resembled anticipation to your life.

You set your glass down on the bartop with a sigh. Another cheer comes from your left, drawing your attention towards the table of patrons with their eyes glued to the television wearing their excited smiles. It’s only a momentary glance, but with your head turned in their direction, you notice the first interesting face you’ve seen all night.

Rather, it was the lack of his face that drew you in. Just a few seats down the bar stood a tall man, dressed head to toe in dark clothing, sliding an empty glass toward the bartender. Perhaps the most notable thing about him is how his hood sits on his head and a mask covers the bottom half of his face. Is that skull print on the fabric?

Whoever he was, he didn’t seem too keen on letting other people know. Part of you was surprised he was even allowed to be served. To say he looked suspicious would be putting it mildly.

But there was something about him that caught your attention and wouldn’t let go. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the air of mystery that clung to him, or maybe it was your desperate need for excitement. At this point, you couldn’t quite tell what the reason was, but his presence was magnetic.

His head turns slightly to look up at the television mounted near the bar. For a split second, you thought he had noticed you somehow. You don’t know why it affected you enough to make your heart leap into your throat, but it was enough to make you stop staring out of fear you’d come off rude.

Your leg bounces nervously on the barstool, itching to walk you over to him. But, Christ, you’ve been out of the game for a while, and you have to assume his…unique sense of attire was to wade off any unwanted conversation. What would you even say to a guy like that? Compliments aren’t easy when you can’t see any part of the man’s face.

Your fingertips run over the edge of your glass and you can’t help but bring your eyes back over to him. Still focused on the game.

“What’s with the mask?” The words leave your mouth before you can give them a second thought. You regret it almost immediately, hoping that maybe between the music and the surrounding conversations that he couldn’t hear you.

There’s a slow turn of his head in your direction. His eyes meet yours, but instead of curiosity you find nothing but a piercing gaze that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s hard to tell in the dim light of the bar, but you swear his gaze moves over you before he turns his attention to the bartender.

Bummer. Well, it was worth a shot…even if you think you’ll have to order another drink to prevent yourself from cringing on the memory later.

You huff another sigh and swirl your drink, watching the liquid move in the glass. If nothing else, at least you got a good night of people-watching and paid enough attention to the game to know what your coworkers will talk about on Monday. The next sip burns your throat as you swallow.

“Tactical advantage.” A baritone voice—suddenly very close to you—comes from your left and startles you, making you jump in your seat.

Your eyes dart to the side, wide in panic, meeting a masked face looking down at you. You curse under your breath, unsure whether it’s appropriate to feel relieved.

“Pardon..?”

“You asked about the mask,” the man gestures vaguely towards his fabric-covered face as he moves to sit on the barstool next to you. The old material groans under his weight. “Tactical advantage.”

You couldn’t help but continue to stare at him. You could tell he was a bigger guy from far away, but, Jesus, he was even bigger up close. Not just tall, but his shoulders were broad and his hands practically dwarfed the glass he was holding. He was, objectively, terrifying.

Yet, you couldn’t help but smile at his simple, concise words. “Yeah? And what advantage is that?”

“To hide my face.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt at comedy. “Well, I coulda guessed that.”

“You asked.” He looks over at you and instead of the piercing gaze from before, there’s something much warmer in his eyes. You wish you could see if he had a smug smile to accompany his words.

“That I did.” You take another sip of your drink, hoping it’ll continue to keep your nerves settled. “So why d’you wanna hide your face?”

He’s silent for a moment, looking down at the bar as he folds his arms and leans against it. You faintly hear him sigh before he shrugs his shoulders. “No need to show it.”

“Gotta be hard to drink with a mask, no?”

“Not if you lift it up.”

“Or you could just…take it off.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“‘Cause then I’d get to see what you look like.”

His eyes—you make a mental note of the deep brown color they are—narrow at that. “Oh, I dunno if you want that.”

“I think I do.”

The stool beneath him creaks with his weight as he sits up, straightening his back and reminding you just how tall he is. His chest expands against his hoodie in another deep breath. “Determined, aren’t you?”

Another smile creeps its way onto your face. “C’mon, I’m curious.” You want to lean in, to tease him with your proximity, but you withhold yourself.

Those blond eyebrows that peek out from the rim of his balaclava raise slightly. His eyes move over you in a movement he doesn’t seem to bother being subtle about. Though the gesture makes your heart skip a beat, his silence is deafening.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, hands up in defeat. “I get it. No face.” He makes an affirmative sound at that.

“Smart girl.” He says it so fast, a one-off comment that told you to not bother pressing him for any more information, but something about it makes your breath catch in your throat.

You have to look down at your drink when you feel your cheeks grow warm. Even though it was nearly gone, you certainly didn’t have enough liquid courage to flirt openly. You wanted to ask his name, to ask where he’s from—what if he lived close by?—but if he wasn’t even willing to show you his face at the bar, you knew the chances were slim.

From the corner of your eye, you see him shift in his seat again. He digs in his pocket, pulls out his phone, and barely looks at it before he starts to stand. Was he leaving already? Why?

“Where you goin’?” You ask before you can really think about why you cared so much.

“M’needed elsewhere.”

Blunt, simple, and vague. That seemed to be how he operated.

“Oh, a popular guy, are you?”

“You could say that.” Your eyes follow him as he moves, but he doesn’t look your way when he stands. Christ, he was a big lad.

“You didn’t even touch your drink.”

“It’s not mine.” He moves the full glass down the bar until it clinks against your own. It’s then you notice it’s the same color as your drink. Same glass, same serving. Did he really buy you a drink?

“Have a nice night.” You look back at him to see his eyes meeting yours. Maybe it was the last drink still swimming in your system, but you weren’t able to form the words to respond. “Get home safe, yeah?”

And with a nod of your head, he weaved his way through the room until he was out of your line of sight. Despite his size, he was easy to lose in the crowd. You turn back to the bartop and stare at the two glasses. The one on the left—the one he’d bought for you—was invitingly full.

You reach out, fingertips skimming the rim before you bring the glass to your lips. It was the same drink you always ordered when you went out—your favorite. Only somehow it tastes sweeter on your tongue this time.

You’ve never made it a habit to go out and drink. As stressful as life could get, it just wasn’t an outlet you ever turned towards. It was expensive as hell, and you weren’t stupid enough to ignore how much it sucked to be hungover.

But despite that, you found yourself back in that same barstool when the weekend came around. And for the first time, it wasn’t because of the overpriced liquor.

Only a few sips into your first drink of the night and you were already looking around in hopes that you’d find a skull-patterned mask looking back at you. Desperately you tried to tune out the chatter of people around you, hoping you’d be able to pick out his voice. Maybe it was stupid. It was definitely wishful thinking.

For all you knew, he wasn’t even in town anymore; you figured he probably wasn’t the type of guy to stick around one place for very long. And, hell, he left so abruptly last time, who’s to say he’d even want to see you again? You hated the tightness that built in your chest at the thought of that.

Well, you might as well enjoy your drink since you’re here. You tried to pay attention to whatever sport was on the television this time, tried scrolling on your phone, but nothing held your attention. Every sip of your drink tempted you to house the entire bar. But you didn’t figure yourself that pathetic. Still, you were pathetic enough to keep looking over at the entrance, hoping you’d see that tall figure slinking through groups of people.

But you never do.

Fuck. It was stupid to hope anyway. You curse yourself under your breath, rubbing at your temples like it’ll help clear your head. With a huff and a sigh, you finish the last of your drink. It doesn’t taste as sweet as it did last time. You’re more disappointed than you wanted to allow yourself to be.

You decided rather quickly that you’d rather mope and feel sorry for yourself in the comfort of your own home. It wasn’t worth wasting money on another lonely drink.

There’s a chill breeze outside that cuts through you, making you shiver as soon as you walk out the door. You cross your arms, trying to preserve some body heat, as you make your way down the pavement. A still-lingering part of you doesn’t want to leave but your legs don’t stop carrying you further away.

You eventually come to a stop, leaning against a light post as you dig out your phone. Even though you’re supposed to be looking up the rideshare to get you back home, you can’t help but look around last time. You think yourself too desperate for your own good until you see a tall figure just a few steps away.

Standing next to a motorcycle that you can only assume is his, the hooded figure drops a cigarette to the ground, his boot grinding against the pavement to stomp it out. You thought it might be too good to be true, but then he turns just enough for you to see him pull that skull-patterned balaclava back over his mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice you—a fact you quickly want to remedy.

“Hey, big guy,” you call out to him, the nickname a subconscious one you immediately cringe at yourself for. Fucking ‘big guy’? Yeah, that’s not gonna go over well.

But it certainly gets his attention. His head turns in your direction, if only barely. He does a double-take before stopping in his tracks and staring back at you. You have to hope and pray that he doesn’t think you’re crazy as you walk over to him. Luckily, he didn’t move away from your advances. Instead, he turns towards you as if to welcome your approach, dark eyes raking over you in that same conspicuous motion.

It’s when you’re face-to-face with him—well, more like mask-to-face—that you realize you didn’t quite know what to say. You were too sober to be making a fool of yourself like this. After an awkward beat of silence of you taking in once more just how tall he was compared to you, you finally manage to conjure up something.

“I just wanted to say…thank you for buying me a drink the other night. I…I appreciated that.”

“Course.” You’d almost forgotten the gruff sound of his baritone voice. “You leavin’ already?”

You hesitate for a moment, a lie stewing on the tip of your tongue. No, no, I was just hanging out in the cold, what a coincidence, right? How much you wanted to spend time with a man you barely knew was almost pathetic. You resign the thought with a sigh. “Sorry, you’re too late. I already had all my fun.”

“What, waitin’ f’me?”

You didn’t know if he was just confident or if he somehow truly knew that was what you were doing. Either way, it made you feel like he could see right through you, like he knew you found him interesting. “Maybe I was hopin’ you’d come by.” You bite your lip, gaze hitting the ground before looking back up at him. “You were the most entertaining thing at that bar.”

He takes in a deep breath at that. “M’sorry I missed it.” Yeah, me too. “Can you get yourself home?”

“Yeah. Well, a rideshare can.”

“How ‘bout I take you home?”

The suggestion makes your heart skip a beat, staring up at him, frozen and probably looking half-crazed. The rational part of your brain was sounding every possible alarm. Why would you ever trust a man you met in a bar who never takes off his mask to take you home unless you had a death wish? And yet the winning part of your brain was the one that was extremely curious about his implication.

“Ah, take a bloke I barely know back home? How drunk d’you think I am?”

He looks over you again in a beat of silence. “You aren’t. That’s why I’m askin’.” Knowing he didn’t want to take advantage of you eased some of the lingering anxiety in the back of your mind. But, as if he could sense that anxiety, he continued, “You don’t gotta let me in, I jus’ wanna make sure you’re safe. I’m cheaper than a rideshare, anyway.”

“Well, can’t beat that, I suppose.” You move around him to approach his parked motorcycle. You didn’t have to know much about bikes to realize it was a nice one. Sleek, but not flashy. Your fingers glide over the leather of the seat as you eye the streetlights reflecting off of the shiny black body. “I’ve never been on a bike. People say they’re dangerous.”

“They can be, if you don’t know what you’re doin’.” You hadn’t noticed how close he was—moving as silent as ever—hovering just behind you as he grabs the helmet strapped securely to the bike. Holding it out towards you, he gives you a nudge. “Here.”

You take the helmet, holding it carefully like you’re afraid to leave your fingerprints all over it. You could already tell it’d be too big, but the consideration was nice. “I trust you know what you’re doin’, then?”

“Most of the time.”

Well, wasn’t he quite the comedian.

You slot the helmet over your head with a roll of your eyes. As you guessed, it was certainly too big, tilting forward over your brow and obscuring your view. A bitterly sweet smell floods your senses as you clasp it in place; you can only assume it’s his sweat, mixed with a faint air of tobacco, embedded into the foam lining.

A heavy hand rests on the side of the helmet, holding it steady while he slides the visor up. His head tilts as those dark eyes of his greet you. “Bit big on you, innit?”

“Yeah, just a li’l.”

“How far we goin’?” You should have been a little hesitant before telling him your address, but you don’t even stutter. He spoke like he had to know, like ordering people around was what he did for a living. An affirmative hum comes from behind his mask as he slides the visor back down. “You’ll be alright.”

You struggle to balance both yourself and the helmet long enough to swing your leg over the seat. You were thankful that the helmet obscured your face to shield some of the embarrassment, at least. Then you feel that same heavy palm on the small of your back, trying to keep you steady, only to make your body tense up. The helmet swings lazily on your head as you finally straddle the seat.

Once you’re situated, after asking if you’re comfortable, he slides his hand off of you. He has no problem getting himself sat, taking up the front half of the seat as he slots in the space before you. He turns his head and, though you have to lift your head awkwardly to see him through the visor, you hear his voice say, “Hold on tight. Can’t have you fallin’ off.”

What, did he plan on speeding out of here? Hesitantly, your hands find purchase on his waist. It was gentle, barely enough pressure to feel his hoodie under your fingertips, let alone his body underneath.

You think you hear him scoff. “I’m sure you’re stronger than that.” His fingers wrap around your wrists, guiding your hands forward until they rest on his chest. The movement shortens the gap of space between your bodies as your arms hover awkwardly around him. “I promise you won’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re afraid of. C’mon, tighter than that.” You strengthen your hold, closing the distance between your chest and his back, practically hugging him. “Atta girl.”

Your face heats up at that, and you were thankful the helmet obscured the sheepish smile that had painted itself on your face.

The engine suddenly roars to life, loud enough to surprise you. The power behind it vibrates through the leather seat and seeps easily through the padding of the helmet. Though his takeoff was as smooth as it could’ve been, it didn’t stop you from tightening your hold around his body.

The cityscape passes by in a blur of vibrant lights and towering buildings. The hum of the motorcycle’s engine overpowers the surrounding cars, echoing off of the asphalt and thrumming a rhythmic hum during the ride. The already-cool night air bites at your skin as it whips past.

Though you have no reason to, you find yourself gripping him tighter on every take-off after a stop. And despite the chill on your skin, you felt the heat rise to your face as you realized you could feel how rigid and tough he was under that hoodie.

There was a thrill, you realized, that ran through you and made your heart race. Not only because you were on a bike for the first time, but because of how close you were to the man in front of you. Holding on tight to a stranger whose name you didn’t know so he could bring you home safely sounded like something out of a novel. The smell of him embedded in his helmet and filling your senses, your body close to absorb some of his heat, the pure generosity of even offering to drive you home: everything made you want to abandon all self-respect and invite him in when you arrived.

The internal battle you fought over that distracted you for the rest of the ride.

You could barely see out of the helmet without cocking your head awkwardly, but you could tell when the trip was nearing its end. A pit formed in your stomach—a part of you unwilling to let the ride end just yet. It wasn’t until he slowed down enough to pick out your building that you realized how difficult it was to see over his broad shoulders. With a point and a nudge in the right direction, you guided him to your stop.

He pulls the bike up to the pavement before parking it. The sounds of the neighborhood replace the monotonous hum of the engine as he turns it off. Your movements are hesitant as your hands slide off his body, something you quickly regret and hope he hadn’t noticed. He helps you off the bike just as he had helped you on, reminding you of his gentle touch, thankful yet again for the helmet obscuring your shy smile.

You don’t ignore the sense of disappointment you feel knowing that he has to leave. Just taking off the helmet was enough to make you miss him and ache for something more, even when he stood right by you on the pavement. You knew it was strange to feel close to a man you barely knew, but he gave you more comfort than most. He made you feel intrigued in a way no one else did.

“So,” you start, dreading the awkward silence, “do I get to know the name of my chauffeur?”

He pauses for a moment of consideration. Your heart beats faster, something akin to excitement making you hope for an answer. Finally, he looks up from the pavement. “Maybe next time.”

Initially, you felt more disappointed than you wanted to allow yourself to be. Surely his name was the one thing he could give up? But then you find yourself clinging on to that phrase. Maybe next time…Did he expect a ‘next time’? Should you expect a ‘next time’?

As you walked up to your door, he didn’t follow, staying true to his words from earlier. He kept a respectable distance to not crowd you, as if he didn’t want to make you nervous. If only he knew everything about him made you overthink your every move.

There’s a beat of silence when you grab your keys. An invite inside sits on the tip of your tongue, fighting with the rational part of your brain, consequences be damned. But his voice beats you to the punch as he breaks another long and empty silence.

“So d’you go and drink every Saturday?”

Your fingers toy with the keys in your hand as you debate your answer. “No, I don’t,” you admit after a beat of silence.

He hums a deep sound that you can’t quite identify the emotion behind. “So just a coincidence, then?”

You don’t respond to that. Instead, while fighting your sheepish smile, you look back at him.

“Thanks for takin’ me home.”

“‘Course.”

“Maybe next time you should drink with me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest when the words leave your mouth. Eagerness didn’t seem like such a shameful thing anymore. Not when you were sharing body heat with him just a few minutes ago. Not when he knew where you lived because he cared enough to make sure you were safe. Maybe it was too hopeful to expect him to want to see you again, but when your eyes meet his under the streetlight, you’re confident the hope isn’t unfounded.

His eyes rake over you in a slow one-over as he nods. His voice is low in that same charming gruff timbre when he responds, “I’ll see you next Saturday, then?”

Fighting off an over-excited smile proves to be the most difficult thing you’ve done in a while. You sigh, calming your racing heart. “If you’re on time.”

“It’s a date.”

It wasn’t actually a date.

Surely he couldn’t have meant it literally. Still, it was enough to have you barely managing a flustered goodbye before fumbling with your keys at the door. Even after you were in the comfort of your home your face felt hot, your body practically vibrating from adrenaline. All from a stranger. The faint sound of the revving engine of his motorcycle moments later only served to remind you of his voice, the warmth of his body, and—hopefully—the promise in his words.

You had to remind yourself constantly, every time your mind wandered throughout the week, that you were hoping for too much. You were daydreaming about a face you hadn’t seen yet from a man whose name you didn’t even know. And, God, that made you feel more pathetic than ever.

It was just a night out, spending time together over a drink, nothing more. Maybe you could learn his name if he was feeling generous enough. But to hope for anything more—a follow-up or anything deeper than friendliness—was foolish. Still, your mind kept wandering back to his words. It’s a date.

No, this wasn’t a date, you scold yourself in the mirror, shaking your head as if it’ll dismiss the thought faster. That was just a throwaway line, something to draw you in to make sure he’d see you tonight. Nothing more, nothing implied, nothing to hope for. You knew that by now, practically drilled it into your own head.

So why did you spend way too long looking at yourself in the mirror, obsessing over every little detail you could nitpick? Why did you drudge through your entire closet to make sure you picked the “right outfit”? Why did you stress about what perfume to wear and what drink to order? It wasn’t a date after all.

Right?

It was too late to fight yourself on it once your rideshare pulled up. The implication of his words was irrelevant at this point; your heart seems to beat quicker with every turn of the wheels that brings you closer to the bar. Despite the cool air making you regret choosing to wear a skirt, you felt hot and stuffy—just downright nervous. Christ, you nearly felt like you could throw up when you saw a familiar tall silhouette outside the bar.

He was on time. And he was waiting for you.

Every insecurity you nitpicked before comes to the front of your mind the moment you step onto the pavement. You force the thoughts away with a sigh and, for the first time in your life, your steps towards the bar are hesitant. His eyes meet yours as you approach and you almost wish you could see his reaction under that mask. But the more you thought about it, maybe you were better off not knowing.

He straightens up, pushing himself off of the wall, looking down at you with a face obscured by shadows and fabric. “I was startin’ to think I came too early.”

It was a huge relief to see him here, waiting and willing to see you again. You couldn’t hide your smile if you tried. “Well, lucky for you, I like an eager man.”

His steps are confident as he makes his way towards the entrance. “That’s definitely one way to describe me.” You barely hear the sentence when he utters it, which only makes your heart beat faster. He pulls the door open, holding it for you to make your way in.

The bar is as crowded as it is every Saturday. Plenty of people scattered around, watching whatever team was on the television this weekend, drunkenly shouting overtop of the music. It never fails to overwhelm you when you walk through the entrance. A hand rests on your back, grounding you and making you all too aware of your posture, slipping to your waist before guiding you through the bustle of people.

Your date—it still felt weird to call him that—guides you towards the bar, towards the backend where fewer people crowded the space. His presence was comforting despite his silence. Not to mention how perfectly his hand slotted against your waist, a thought that had you too nervous to bring attention to his sudden touchiness.

The stools squeak and groan as the two of you settle into your seats. The bar is anything but quiet, yet an awkward silence hangs in the air between you. Something told you he wasn’t the type to care about the awkwardness, but you were far too sober to not overthink every thought that popped into your head.

You clear your throat, hoping it’ll boost your confidence to speak. “I wasn’t actually sure you’d show,” you admit. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You weren’t sure how to respond. He raised a good point, one that spit in the face of your insecurities and anxiety. “I dunno…guess I worried I wasn’t exciting enough for you.”

“Well, you’re no mask-wearin’ bike rider.” He leans in your direction and nudges you with his elbow. “But I think you’re plenty excitin’.” You look up at his eyes just fast enough to catch his wink.

Flustered, you avert your eyes to the bartop as you laugh. “You don’t know me well enough, clearly.”

“I’d like to. That’s why I’m here.”

That brings your eyes back to his. You may not have been able to see his face, but those eyes told you everything about his sincerity. There shouldn’t have been any doubt left in your mind after that. The man admitted to having an interest in you—in getting to know you—and it surely set your heart on fire.

“Well, that and to drink, I’m sure.” Your smile is an attempt to distract from the way you stare at him. It was like you had yourself convinced you could make out his features if you just studied him long enough.

“Ah, that’s just a bonus.” He gestures for the bartender with a simple wave of his hand before fishing in his pocket for his wallet.

“So what’s the drink of choice for a bloke like you?”

“Bourbon.”

You aren’t sure why that admission surprises you; of course a big guy like him would drink whiskey. Something about that fact makes you feel warm inside. You request one for yourself, an excuse to have something in common with him.

Your eyes follow the bartender as they move, but your mind is far from the alcohol. Everything was going well—probably the best it could’ve gone meeting someone who could still classify as a stranger for the third time. But there was still something gnawing at the back of your mind, festering insecurity and uncertainty.

“Can I ask you something?” You almost surprise yourself with the lack of hesitance with which the question leaves your mouth.

“Shoot.”

“That night we met, when we spoke for the first time, you left awfully quick.” Your fingers tap against the bartop in an anxious rhythm. “What was that about?”

From the corner of your eye, you see him shrug. “Wasn’t my choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was work. It asks a lot of me sometimes.” Work calling at such a late hour was hard to believe, but the way he said it—a layer of exhaustion sullying his words—had you convinced. “Trust me, I would’ve preferred staying to talk to you.”

You believed that, too.

“What do you do for work?”

He pauses, taking in a deep breath, like he’s thinking about how to phrase his response. You’ve started to learn how deliberate he was with his words. “A lot of dangerous shit.”

That definitely piques your attention. You hear the two glasses clink against the bartop, but you were more concerned with him than the alcohol. “Yeah? What kind of shit is that?” You didn’t have a lot of hope that he’d open up any more than that, but the curiosity ate at you.

He reaches for one of the glasses, sighing as he moves. “The kind of shit that makes you want to drink to forget it.” He lifts the glass in your direction. “So let’s drink, yeah?”

Even if he didn’t completely open up, it was a sentiment you could sympathize with. You may not know exactly what he spent his time doing but you knew enough to hope he saw your company as comforting. You reach for the other glass and lift it until it clinks against his own. “Just don’t drink enough to forget me.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be forgettin’ you anytime soon.”

You smile at his sentiment, taking a sip of whiskey to wash away the anxiety-borne tension in your throat.

It’s done in a split second before you notice it, but he lifts the bottom of his balaclava over his mouth, resting the hem on his nose. It gives you a view of the blond scruff that dusts the sharp angle of his jaw, of those peach lips that look surprisingly soft as he raises his glass to take a drink. The way his mask sits makes you aware of the crook in the bridge of his nose—a sign of cartilage broken multiple times over. He’s rugged and rough underneath the soft cloth, far more attractive than anything you could’ve conjured up in your own mind. And that was without seeing his entire face. They were features that any other man could have, but he hid those features from the world for reasons you couldn’t fathom. Maybe that was what made him so alluring.

“You’re starin’.”

It takes a moment for his words to register in your head. You only realized he was speaking because you could actually see his mouth move. You scoff, brows furrowing as you finally blink for the first time in a while. “I wasn’t starin’.”

He grunts in response. You didn’t have to hear him speak to know he doesn’t believe you. Hell, you didn’t believe yourself. You roll your eyes at the sound, taking a sip of your drink and averting his intense gaze by catching a glimpse of the television behind the bar. You didn’t care one bit about the scores on the screen.

Especially when you suddenly felt the warmth of his hand on your thigh. There was no way he didn’t notice the way your muscles tense, flinching at the sudden contact. It’s indescribable the way it makes you feel. His rough and calloused touch barely underneath the hem of your skirt to feel the smooth and tender flesh of your thigh sends a jolt down your spine, a heat coursing through you that you haven’t felt in a while.

“You’re a terrible liar.” It isn’t lost on you the way his voice deepens when he whispers to you, leaning in close and quiet so he can make sure you hear him.

Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your face hot and your heart racing. “Piss off. The…bourbon’s just strong.” You force the words out in a half-hearted tumble as you bring the glass to your lips.

His grip tightens ever-so-slightly, gently squeezing your thigh. Something about it tells you he doesn’t buy that lie either. “Ah, s’that what it is?”

The sarcasm in his voice makes the whiskey burn as it slides down your throat. You take in a breath to try and combat the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. Squirming in the stool, you press your thighs together to quell some of the heat pulsing through your veins. Nerves and excitement battle for control over your body.

“I didn’t take you for a touchy lad.” Your own voice quietens to a whisper, almost too nervous to acknowledge his bold move.

“Usually m’not.”

Setting your glass down, you’re almost disappointed to find the mask is settled back over his face when you finally make eye contact again. “Mm. You must like me, then?”

The question wasn’t really meant to have an answer, but he didn’t hesitate to give you one. “Was that not obvious before?”

“The confirmation is nice.” You force the words out before you can think too hard about his reply.

He liked you. One of the most enigmatic, confusing, intriguing people you’ve ever met—who should’ve made you feel scared—actually liked you. It was relieving and exciting and terrifying all at once.

You look down to see his hand on your thigh. The sight is enough to turn excitement into something much stronger that pools in your core. You run your fingertips over his knuckles, the discolored skin telling you they’ve been wounded multiple times over. You didn’t have the guts to ask. The contact makes his grip tighten slightly, his thumb slowly brushing gentle strokes against your skin.

The whole thing had your mind running wild. You certainly didn’t have enough to drink to excuse the images that flashed in your mind. But seeing his hand on you—feeling his touch—in a way you could only describe as intimate had desire pumping through you. You don’t know how good a job you’re doing at hiding it, either, but you’re certain he can feel when you squeeze your thighs tightly together.

“So,” you start, clearing your throat as if to excuse the rampant thoughts in your head, “do I get to know your name yet?”

You look over to see his eyes lingering absentmindedly on the television. “Depends on how this night goes.”

Well, it wasn’t a ‘no’.

You scoff, feigning annoyance. “What, y’gonna wait until I’m too drunk to remember it?” Your hand moves to your glass, raising it in his direction before taking a sip.

“Oh, I’m not gonna let you get drunk.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you couldn’t argue if you wanted to. Then, his hand moves carefully, readjusting his grip until the plush fat on the inside of your thigh is squished between his fingers. “Can’t have any fun if you get yourself plastered.”

At least now you knew you had no chance of embarrassing yourself in a drunken stupor. But your mind was far more preoccupied with that word—fun. Sure, he could have meant it literally; maybe he planned on taking you somewhere more exciting than a cheap bar after this. You silently scolded yourself for being disappointed with that reality.

“I suppose you’re right…” The words came out breathlessly into your glass. You didn’t know if he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. He seemed like the type of man to be dead set on whatever he was determined to do. You just hoped the ‘fun’ he had in mind was the same type that had your heart pounding whenever you thought about it.

His hand slides off you and—God help you—you almost whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes follow his movement, watching him slide his mask up enough to take another drink. You didn’t think you could ever forget what he looked like. It was a sight you swore you could spend the whole night staring at, but you looked away before he had the chance to tease you about it.

“Y’know,” he says with a voice quiet enough that only you could hear, “if you need somethin’, you can just ask.”

Your eyes dart over to him with an unconscious, wide-eyed look of guilt and confusion. There was no doubt in your mind that you needed something from him, but you hadn’t intended that to be obvious. A bewildered “what?” is all you manage to force out while you try to convince your rapid heart to slow.

“If you need somethin’ from me, you can just ask me for it.” He speaks slowly this time, looking in your direction with brown eyes so dark it was like his pupils had blown wide. Fuck, did you look like that too? He sets his glass down with a sigh when you don’t respond with anything more than a confused scoff. He leans in close, so close you could feel his breath on your ear and a whiff of tobacco and musk in your nostrils. “You were practically humpin’ my hand.” You swear he growls the words. “That makes me think you need somethin’.”

That immediately shot down any hope you had that you were doing great at hiding your wandering thoughts. Excuse after excuse ran through your mind, trying to justify why his touch made you squirm. But…was there really any point in denying something he so clearly had picked up on? He read you like a goddamn book—not that you were difficult to read—and something about that only made the desire heavier. And, most importantly in your mind, there was no sign that he disliked it.

Your lips quiver as they part, hesitation making your mouth run dry. “Maybe…maybe I do need somethin’...” It feels like your heart has jumped in your throat. But it wasn’t nerves that made your skin run hot. “Are you…offerin’ me somethin’?”

He straightens in his seat and pulls the balaclava back over the lower half of his face. From the corner of your eye, you watch him tap his fingers against his glass. Just before you think he’s going to end the conversation there, you hear the rumble of his voice from behind the skull-patterned fabric. “There’s a storage room in the back hall, last door on the right. Hardly anyone goes back there.” His tone is almost conspiratorial. “If we go one at a time, less chance of being noticed. We could have some privacy there.” There’s a pause before he looks in your direction, not bothering to be subtle when his eyes move over you. “That’s what I’m offerin’.”

Holy shit.

There was no reason to think he was joking, but you still couldn’t believe it. You also couldn’t believe that you were so desperate that turning him down didn’t even cross your mind. “You’re serious? Here? In the bar?”

He shrugs like the thought is obvious. “Well, you said it yourself: can’t take a bloke you barely know back home.” He leans in again, eyes boring through you. “I promise I’m worth all the hassle.”

Somehow, you didn’t doubt him one bit. You play off the disbelief and hesitation with a scoff, shaking your head. “Yeah, you better be.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a moment. You wish you could hear his thoughts or see his face, get some inkling of an idea of what was running through his mind.

Then he sits up straight, cocking his head in the direction of the back hallway. “Go on, then.”

Truthfully, his impatience had you relieved; at least now you wouldn’t have to be the one to initiate. But that didn’t mean you wanted to be the first to get caught sneaking around the back of the building. “Why am I goin’ first?”

“So I can make sure no one follows.”

“Is that your specialty?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You weren’t sure how to feel about that confession. Just how much sneaking around was a guy like him doing? “Go on.”

You’d marinate the thought later. With a sigh, you slide off of the barstool. Looking at him you find his eyes on the television screen once more. With no reassuring glance or even a flirtatious wink, you set your sights on the hallway in the back of the bar.

You’re relieved to find that no one was waiting in a line outside the bathrooms. At least that would make the sneaking around part a lot easier. You felt ridiculous, like a teenager trying to avoid their parents when they snuck out. But the promise of what could’ve been awaiting you was enough to will you to walk down the dim hallway.

There was a door towards the end of the hall, on the right side, just past the bathrooms. Just like he had said. You didn’t have time to wonder how he knew it was here, or how he knew it was a storage room. But sure enough, after slinking past the bathrooms and quickly pushing the door open, you were greeted with a room full of boxes, cleaning supplies, and old furniture. The smell of mildew made your nose crinkle as you stepped further inside.

It was then you realized he didn’t tell you how long to wait. Your thoughts spiraled from there; What if he flakes? What if an employee comes back here? Each second felt like an hour, your anxiety mounting with every moment you were alone in the stuffy room. You move to an old table shoved in the back corner. A thin layer of dust coats your finger when you run it along the trim.

Your heart jumps when you hear the door click. You were prepared to play the part of a drunken fool looking for the bathroom in case it was an employee, but you’re relieved to see the large figure you’d come to recognize slink through.

“Hey,” you call out to him, casually greeting him like you hadn’t snuck in here under the implications of sex.

His steps are slow as he moves towards you. “Hey.” That gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. The room feels smaller with every step he takes in your direction.

“So,” you sigh, “do you take all your dates to storage rooms?”

“Only the lucky ones.”

He stops just in front of you, closer than he’s ever stood before, making your breath catch in your throat as you look up at him. “Suppose I should feel lucky, then.” You don’t mean to sound breathless, but you weren’t too concerned with appearing composed.

“I’d hope so.”

“I will if you take off that mask.”

You think you hear something resembling a laugh from beneath that skull-patterned fabric. He tugs at the mask and, for a moment, you think he’s actually going to remove it. But the hem only moves to the bridge of his nose, taunting you by not revealing any part of himself he hadn’t already. You must look expectant, or disappointed, because he gives you an incredulous look in return.

“What? You seemed plenty happy with this earlier,” he gestures towards the lower half of his face, earning an eye roll from you. He scoffs, leaning in and tilting his head to follow your gaze. “If I remember, you couldn’t stop starin’ at me.”

“Fuck off. I liked what I saw.” His teasing made your cheeks feel hot. That same heat thumps in your veins when your eyes meet his again. “...Still do.”

You barely feel the warmth of his fingertips as they graze your skin, tracing your jaw. He was gentle, exploratory, like he was waiting for your approval. When all he got from you was a sharp intake of breath, his thumb ran gently over your bottom lip.

“So do I.”

You’d chastise yourself for leaning in if you were any more self-conscious. You’d blame the eagerness on the alcohol, or the way he seemed to pull you closer with his hand, but there was no denying the want stirring in the pit of your stomach. Nothing else mattered except making your lips meet. And when they do, all you find is gentle hesitance and the taste of whiskey.

It was soft and careful, yet completely consuming. His lips were as soft as they looked and moved perfectly against your own. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing into his mouth and inching your body closer, bringing your hand to his chest and feeling the soft fabric of his hoodie go taut as you curl your fingers into a fist. Afraid he’d move away if you didn’t, you kept your grasp firm and pulled him closer.

He was the one to close the gap between your bodies. It was like he was waiting for that confirmation that you wanted this. His hands move to your waist as his groan vibrates against your lips. Gentle kisses slowly turn more desperate as both of you breathe heavily. The taste of cigarettes and alcohol is sickeningly sweet on your tongue.

Strong hands move down your body and over your hips. You half expected him to grope you and leave it at that. And while you would’ve been fine with it, you’re surprised when you feel his hands move down to your thighs to lift you off the ground. The sudden movement makes you yelp and gasp into his mouth, fingers clawing at his hoodie to keep you balanced while he haphazardly sets you on the edge of the dusty, wobbling table.

It’s brash and hurried but it’s exciting. The type of exciting that makes you forget about the dust on the tabletop and the possibility someone could walk in. Nothing else mattered when his mouth was on you, trailing over your jaw with hot and wet kisses that took your breath away.

“You’ll tell me if I’m too much, yeah?” The rough sound of his voice surprises you, grounding you amidst the overwhelming sensations.

You nod, running your hands over his shoulders to try and feel the rigidity under his clothes. “Y-yeah, course.”

“Good girl.”

A small kiss is planted on your neck before he pulls back enough to look you over. As your hands fall from his shoulders, he hastily rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie. Not only does the sight of sinewy muscle hidden underneath make your blood pound in your veins, but the intricate sleeve of tattoos on his left arm catches your attention. In any other scenario you’d ask him question after question about each line and symbol. But right now his hands are running up your thighs and under your skirt, the muscles in his arms flexing as he kneads the fat between his fingers.

The way he groans at your softness makes you throb. He nudges your legs further apart—a movement you would have done on your own volition—and pushes your skirt up as he moves to hold your hips. You lean back on your hands and watch mesmerized as his eyes lock onto the sight between your legs.

“Pretty pair,” he mutters as his thumbs rub circles against your hips. It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your panties. “Makes me think you were hopin’ I’d see ‘em.”

Seems like it paid off to overthink every part of your outfit. “Maybe I was.”

“Yeah? Hopin’ I’d see how soppin’ wet they are?” His thumb moves inwards, running over your slit through the wet fabric. The fabric clings to your sensitive skin, proving his point, as does the way you whimper and buck your hips.

“Yeah, that too.”

His fingers hook into the strip of fabric covering your cunt, pulling the garment to the side with a forceful tug. And you swear, even in the dim light, his pupils dilate at the sight. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Two fingers drag through your slit, through that slick that told him just how much you wanted him. His fingertips are rough but his touch is gentle. You gasp when he finds your clit and toys with the swollen bud by circling it teasingly. His lips find yours again with bruising kisses that swallow your sounds as you pant into his mouth. His fingers spread you open, gliding over your cunt and teasing every inch, gathering your slick as he circles your entrance.

Even though he moves slowly, the stretch of his thick fingers is certainly more than you were expecting. You whine as they curl and pump in and out in a rhythm that makes your cunt flutter and squelch with each push. Your head falls back with a moan when he hits something deep inside that sends shockwaves through you.

His mouth moves down to your now-exposed neck, marking your skin with wet and sloppy kisses. “So fuckin’ wet for me,” his voice vibrates against you. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?”

You hum a broken “mm-hmm”, unable to focus long enough to form a proper response. But it’s that confirmation that has him moving faster and harder until your hips are jerking forward to meet his movements.

“Yeah, y’couldn’t sit still ‘cause you were achin’ for it.” His free hand cups your face, gently squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. His eyes are dark with desire and something desperate that bores into you. “Just needed your pretty pussy fucked, huh?”

Your cunt flutters around his fingers at the praise, heat building in the pit of the stomach. Your pants turn into a moan as your breath catches in your throat. “Yes, I need it. I need it so fucking bad.”

His hand picks up speed as he coos a soft “I know, baby,” against your lips. His fingers curl and push just right, hitting every soft spot that makes your toes curl and your cunt tighten. One of your hands flies to his chest to claw at his hoodie as your body begins to tremble.

“Fuck,” you groan, barely able to get the words out, “d-don’t stop…”

“I won’t, love. Not ‘til you cum for me.”

For him. He wanted to see you fall apart under his touch and cling to him like he was the only thing in the world. You’ll care more about the sweetness of the thought when you aren’t stuffed full and moaning in the back of a bar.

Whether it’s that thought or his touch or the heady mix of both, it’s not long before the muscles in your thighs go taut. Your breathing turns heavier as your moans and whines grow louder on each exhale. If it wasn’t for your subconscious fear of being caught and his need to feel your lips against his own you’re sure you would’ve screamed until the sound echoed off the walls.

But even if your sounds were restrained, the sensations surely weren’t. That heat stirring in your core spilled over and your cunt clenched around his fingers until all you could hear was soft squelching as he pushed your slick cum back inside. Your thighs trembled and your chest heaved with the effort to catch your breath. It wasn’t until you could see straight against that you noticed the sweat along your brow and the ache in your back.

His fingers slid out, their girth just enough to leave you feeling loose. Before he could even take his hand off of you, his mouth was latching onto your neck for another set of rough and wet kisses.

“Turn around,” you barely hear his gruff instruction over the sound of your own breaths, “bend over.”

Still, you aren’t one to disappoint. You land on shaky legs after sliding off the table, using his sturdy form to balance yourself as you turn around. Your forearms rest against the table as you bend over the wobbling piece of furniture.

You feel your skirt flip up, the fabric resting along your waist, before his large palms run over the swell of your ass. They’re warm and heavy and you can feel each callous as he kneads the fat in his grasp. He’s not rough, but it’s like he wants to savor the softness he finds.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum.” That was enough to make you twitch, but then he runs a finger over the cum-slick fabric of your panties. “Think you can do it again for me?”

You barely muster a nod and an “mm-hmm” before his fingers hook into your panties and pull them down to your knees. His impatience was only riling you up, especially when you felt him spread you apart and groan at the sight.

“Christ, look at you…” you hear him mutter, the sound accompanied by the jangle of a belt buckle coming undone.

You could practically feel his stare boring into you, branding your skin with his gaze. You think you hear him spit before a hand rests on your ass to knead your skin again. That hand moves to your hip, holding you firmly in place while the head of his cock glides along your slit and stops at your entrance. He isn’t even attempting to push in and it already has you whimpering. You can feel it—thick and warm and heavy—waiting to split you open.

“Breathe for me, baby. Just relax.” His voice is soothing, deep and soaked in desire, and it makes your body obey without thought.

A few deep breaths later and your mouth is falling open in a loud gasp as he pushes in. He moves slow, pausing every time you whine to mutter soft encouragement through clenched teeth. And while his voice was soothing, it didn’t exactly ease the stretch that had your cunt pulsing around him. Nothing had made you feel so full before.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he groans when he’s fully seated inside you. Both of his hands hold your hips tight as he mutters a curse under his breath. Slowly, he starts to move, pulling back only to push in deep. You swear he hits deeper every time, every push forcing the air out of your lungs in a desperate moan.

“That’s it, you can take it.” His voice was somewhere between gruff and breathless, tense beneath clenched teeth and restrained moans. Your back arches and your hips push back to meet his movements halfway to encourage him to speed up his steady rhythm. “Oh, good fucking girl.”

All you can manage is broken strings of curses and moans. Between his constant praise and the fullness of his cock, you couldn’t think straight long enough to focus on anything except the pleasure shooting through your veins. If your nails were any sharper, you might’ve left claw marks on the table beneath you as you held on.

“Fuck me. H-Harder.” You knew you were being greedy, aching for more every time you accustomed to his pace. But you were still so sensitive from your recent climax; you knew it wouldn’t take much more to hit that high again, especially when his cock kissed that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.

“Yeah, you need it harder, baby?” He put up no argument as he moved his hands to your waist for a better grip. He pounded into you with a force that made your legs shake, his hips meeting your ass with an obnoxiously loud sound that you couldn’t care less if anyone heard. “Goddamn, this cunt’s perfect.”

Underneath your squeals and whines are his own moans and growls, each one making you clench around him just to draw another one out of him. Knowing he was as lost in pleasure as you were filled you with pride.

His hands move up your body, snaking under your shirt, feeling you tense and tremble underneath him. Strong palms find and grope your chest, kneading you eagerly while he bends over you. His thrusts don’t cease even as his lips find your neck.

Soft bites and hot kisses only add to the sensations wracking pleasure on your body. You almost don’t hear him when he mutters against your skin, “Simon.”

“...Huh?”

“Simon.” He repeats, moving his mouth to your ear so there’s no doubt you’ll hear him. “Say it.”

“Si—fuck…Simon…” The name comes out in a moan, something he seems to enjoy judging by the receiving growl in your ear.

“Atta girl. Now you know what to scream when you cum for me again.”

Your panting lips curl into something resembling a smile. Simon. You were too far gone to recognize the implication of trust behind his sudden openness, but you did know how sweet his name felt in your mouth. And, evidently, it wouldn’t take long for you to mutter it incoherently as your body begins to tense.

Heat and pleasure and everything warm builds in your core with each hit of his cock. He—Simon—mirrors your heavy breaths with his own. He must feel the way you tighten; his fingers dig into your skin so tight it’d probably hurt if your mind was less hazy.

“M’gonna cum—shit, you’re gonna make me cum, Simon.” Your eyes flutter shut, all your focus narrowed to the pleasure between your legs.

“I know, love. Cum for me, let me feel you.”

His rough and steady pace makes the build-up all the more sweet. When your climax hits, it hits hard. White-hot pleasure shoots through you, making your hips twitch and your legs shake, a breathless cry that you try (and fail) to hold back ripping through the room. Your cunt pulses around his cock, sucking him deeper while he fucks you through the high with much gentler strokes. The obscenely wet sound is accompanied by his groans on every push.

“Fuck, y’gonna make me cum squeezin’ me like that…”

That was enough to snap you out of your haze. Perhaps a much less restrained version of yourself would’ve let him finish inside you right then and there, but you’ll entertain the thought another time. Still trembling and panting, you force yourself to sit up. “Wait, wait. Pull out, hold on,” you urge, pushing him back with your hand.

He follows your movements, his hands sliding off of your body as he leans back. The emptiness that follows as his cock slips out of you leaves you feeling gaped in the best way possible. Your body aches, sore from the rough treatment and the wobbling table underneath you, as you stumble to your knees in front of Simon. Your eyes immediately land on his cock, a dumbfounded grin you’re sure looks ridiculous painting itself on your lips.

Fuckin’ hell…that was inside you?

It was every bit as impressive as it felt. Thick and heavy and so damn hard you could practically feel it throbbing with the need to cum. No wonder he needed to prep you, and no wonder you felt so stretched regardless.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” Simon’s voice startles you, bringing your mind back to reality.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding it to your mouth as you lean in. Licking a slow, wet stripe along the underside makes him hiss and twitch against your tongue. You could taste yourself on him, your cum mixed with his musk, and the heady combination made your head spin.

Your eyes flicker up at him, at that mask still obscuring half of his face. “Dunno if I can take all of you,” you admit as your hand glides up and down his cock. “You’re a big lad.”

Simon curses and you watch his jaw tighten as his cock twitches in your hand. “Don’t worry about it. After the way you felt around me, I’m not gonna last long anyway.”

You flash him a smile—a cheeky one that, no doubt, showed how proud that made you feel—before closing your lips around the head of his cock. His musk hits your tongue and fills your nostrils and you can’t help but groan at the taste. The rest of his cock fits in your hand, throbbing under your palm while you stroke.

“Christ, that’s good, sweetheart.” One of his hands lands on the back of your head. He doesn’t push you down or force more into your mouth, he just rests it there, watching you through heavy eyes. “Real fuckin’ nice…”

You swallow around him, taking more of him into your mouth. His hips buck involuntarily in a movement that makes you gag when the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat. He mutters an apology that you ignore, groaning around him as your head bobs and your tongue swirls.

“Fuck, I can’t…” Simon’s other hand flies down to his cock, replacing your grip as he wraps it around the base. “M’gonna cum, baby.”

The way he growls the words makes you hum, the sound vibrating through him. You give one last firm suck as your mouth slides off of him. “Cum on my face,” you utter before you can even catch your breath.

“Y-you sure? Your makeup—”

“M’not askin’, Simon.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He can barely get the words out as he strokes himself, fisting his cock with a lewdly wet sound thanks to your spit and cum coating his sensitive flesh.

You can hear his breath grow heavy, slowly turning to moans as his body tenses. All you can focus on is his face—what parts you can see—watching his mouth as he pants and seeing his brows furrow in pleasure. You think you’d give just about anything to see him like this without that mask on.

His hand stills on his cock just before he mutters a curse and spills onto your face. His cum lands in thick, warm globs across your skin, and you’re thankful he seems to have enough awareness to avoid your eyes. He taps his cock against your lips, spreading his cum just to revel in the sight.

Simon’s growling breaths steady out as he comes down from the high. “You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he sighs, peach lips curling into a smile.

Your tongue darts out to clean your lips, tasting the unique saltiness that painted them. “You’re not too bad yourself. Simon.”

He offers you a hand and pulls you up to your feet. His thumb brushes against your cheek, collecting some of his spend before bringing it to your mouth. You gladly accept his digit into your mouth, moaning around it as you suck it clean. With a growl and a curse, he pulls you into a rough kiss.

“Next time,” he starts, still panting as his breathing steadies, “how about we go to your place? Then we can have a proper go at it.”

Your heart skips a beat. ‘Next time’…he wanted a ‘next time’...

“As long as you’re a gentleman and drive me there.” You pat his chest before pulling back enough to readjust your clothing. There wasn’t much you could do about the smeared makeup and tousled hair, but you weren’t the only person in the bar who looked a little worse for wear.

“Deal.” You can hear the shuffle as he refits his own clothes. Thankfully, the mask doesn’t come back down. “You fancy another drink?”

“Uh…m’not sure, why?”

“‘Cause if you don’t, I can take you home right now if you’d like.” You meet his eyes and he matches your smile with one of his own.

“Deal.”

#*drops this after like two months of barely any activity* heyyyyy #clown writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty

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wanderingsoul6261 · 2 days

Text

Gif credit goes to dannyuta

Tyler Owens x Reader

Based On a thought I had

Warnings: I don't think there is any? Maybe a swear word or two? I forgot. Will be a second part to this.

I think I edited it all the way....I think. There is a person or two I need to tag in this, but for some odd reason my phone isn't letting me, so they will be tagged in the comments. Will try to figure it out for future posts.

Y/N was laying on the shared bed in their motel room, the tv playing in the background, a book in her lap as she rested against the headboard. Night had fallen by now and she had expected Tyler to be back from his errands, laying in bed with her as she read her book, legs tangled together and him attempting his nightly ritual of distracting her from said book. It usually almost always worked though, so he didn’t have to try too hard in order to be successful. If there was one thing that Y/N was extra soft for, it was him and his puppy dog demeanor hidden by a large amount of confidence and charisma, not that they weren’t a good look on him, because they were. She had just preferred the Tyler Owens that he turned into behind four walls and a closed door.

“Darlin’.” She snapped out of her thoughts, head snapping up to look at Tyler, who was standing at the entrance of their motel room. A small smile graced his lips as he looked at her, his eyes and expression soft. He had a boyish grin on his face, feet shuffling in what Y/N could only imagine to be excitement, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

His eyes shifted down to her book, in which she followed his gaze, her hands already moving to find her book mark, eyes tearing away from him. She marked her page, the book mark, which just happened to be an old gas station receipt, peeked out over the top, and left the book forgotten on the side table next to the bed.

“What is it, Ty?” She asked. Y/N couldn’t help it when her feet carried her over to him, as he stepped over the threshold of the doorway, meeting her half way, the door still open and letting in the cool night air. His hands found her waist, then slipping around to her back, pulling her against him, lips capturing her own into a slow and sensual kiss. Eyes closed, her arms looping around his neck, while his hands moved from her back to her waist, squeezing gently before they moved to her back again, deft fingers slipping underneath her, his, shirt.

“Got a surprise downstairs.” He mumbled against her lips, forehead moving to rest against hers, fingers drawing small shapes into the small of her back, pressing a few more chaste kisses to her lips before he pulled back slightly.

“What kind of surprise?” she asked, fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. Tyler clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head slightly.

“Have to come downstairs with me sweetheart.”

“I’m barely clothed!” She exclaimed. The look in Tyler’s eyes and the smirk on his face told her that he didn’t seem to mind.

“Not seeing the issue with that one, but you have a shirt and some shorts on. That will do.” His fingers moved down to tap her butt.

“But I’m still not as equally dressed as you are.” Tyler let his hands fall from her body, and now she missed it, but watched as he took her in, tilting his head in thought. He was enjoying the view, she could see it clearly in his expression. His eyes snapped up to her, a genuine smile on his face and a shining glint in his eyes. It looked a lot like a look of adoration.

“Don’t matter to me darlin’. You look gorgeous as always. Now come on, while the night is still young.” He said, beckoning her to follow him, giving her a dopey and love sick smile. Y/N couldn’t help it, matching the look on his face as she reached out for his now extended hand, her soft hands clasping with his calloused one, allowing him to tug her outside the warmth of the motel room and into the cool night air.

As Tyler pulled her along, almost as if he was a child tugging it’s parent along in a toy or candy store, he couldn’t help but look back at her a few times. Whether he was making sure she was still following, despite her hand being in his own, or if he just wanted to look at her, Y/N couldn’t tell, but she knew that she didn’t mind it. She couldn’t help but look at him as if he hung the stars for her, giving her everything that she could ever possibly want in life.

Y/N bit her lip as she looked at him, weaving through the cars in the parking lot, letting him tug her towards the red truck they rode into the most brutal of storms. It was there that she saw the surprise. The truck was positioned away from everyone else, across the parking lot and a slight way into the field of weeds, tea lights lining the side of the truck and the down tailgate. Tyler slowed down, watching her with a smile on his face as he allowed her to take in the sight. Pillows and blankets were settled in the bed of the truck, a box of pizza sitting on the tailgate, ready to be eaten. She tugged her hand away from his, moving closer to the scene.

“It’s been a minute since we had time to ourselves.” Tyler’s voice spoke from behind her, providing a sense of comfort. Y/N turned to look at him, finding him with his hands in his pockets, that same look of adoration back on his face.

“You came up with this all by yourself?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in amusement as she looked at her boyfriend. A look of feigned hurt came across his face and she couldn’t help but to giggle.

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked, taking a few slow steps towards her.

“Dani or Lilly didn’t give you any ideas? You didn’t need to be hyped up by Boone or Dexter?” She asked, a teasing lilt to her voice as Tyler took a few more steps towards her. “Please tell me Ben isn’t going to pop out of the weeds and start taking photos.” Tyler let out a small laugh, the twinkle still in his eyes.

“No.” He said, a smile on his face as he shook his head. “Its just us darlin’.” He finally stood in front of her, hands settling back on her waist, lifting her up and setting her on the tailgate. Stepping forward to stand between her legs, his hands settled on her cheeks, pulling her in for another slow kiss. The two took their time in the moment, hands on the other's body, movements slow and sensual as they appreciated the moment. Tyler pulled her closer to him, hands on her hips while her own settled on his face, scratching at the stubble on his face, tongues fighting for dominance.

Y/N was the first to pull away, her breathing heavy as Tyler started to trail kisses along her jaw and down her neck, his breath fanning across her skin, causing her to shiver. A soft sigh of content escaped her lips, before pulling into a pout as he pulled away from her.

“I have a whole night planned sugar. The best Is always saved for last.” Tyler winked at her, before he climbed into the bed of the truck with her. He grabbed two beers from a small cooler that Y/N hadn't seen until now. As he sat down, his legs spread, motioning for Y/N to sit between them and as she did so, Tyler moved the blanket over her legs, before she settled the box of pizza on her covered lap.

The pizza box was flipped open And the two bottles had their caps popped off.

Y/N settled against Tyler's chest, finally taking in the scenery around them as one of his hands moved around her body to snag a piece of pizza.

“get anything on me and I'll beat you.” She teasingly threatened, her eyes moving to the cute little tea lights, softly illuminating the truck and them with it.

“Yes ma'am. Understood.” He snickered slightly, voice muffled by the food in his mouth.

“Why the tea lights? Why not actual candles?” She asked. Tyler's chest vibrated against her back as his other hand came up and settled on her waist, drawing lazy shapes with his fingers.

“Money and distance. Closest grocery store for candles was an hour away. There was a dollar store like 15 minutes away. grabbed them there. Don't like them?” He asked, the potential for slight hesitancy in his voice as he brought his beer bottle to his mouth and took a drink.

“No, I love them. It doesn't take away from the moment, I was just curious.”

“Good.” His lips pressed to her temple and his hand gave her waist a squeeze. “Also a safer bet if things go a bit south, if you know what I mean.” Tyler spoke in a low timber. She slapped his thigh, earning a laugh from him.

“We are in the wide open Tyler. Anyone could see.”

“Jus' sayin’ sugar.”

As time passed, Y/N had her eyes trained on the stars, watching them with intent as Tyler watched her. His eyes were focused solely on her, especially as he finished eating. Watching the side of her face as her lips lifted into small smiles, the way her eyelashes fluttered, the imperfections on her face, everything. Everything about her was beautiful, amazing. Gorgeous and astounding. It didn't matter that she was in one of his white shirts and a pair of short gym shorts. In his eyes, she was perfect, a beautiful comparison to the mightiest of tornadoes, gorgeous and elegant in movement, but in her own small ways, just as destructive. She was a heart stopper.

And suddenly the black box hidden behind him, felt like a heavy presence, making itself known, begging to pushed into her hands and that all too infamous question to be asked.

“What are your thoughts about the future?” He asked, the pizza half finished and now forgotten, bottles of beer half drunk as the two continued to rest against each other, basking in the moment of the peace and quiet they were experiencing.

“Like us? Or in general?” She moved her head slightly so that she could see his face. His face moved to look at her, his facial expression telling her that he had been heavy in his thoughts.

“Us. In general. Where do you see us. Kids? Marriage? What kind of house do you imagine us in? Will there be dogs? Other pets? Anything.” He almost wanted to ask where she would see herself if something happened to their relationship, but he couldn't bear The thought. It would never happen. They were happy enough as they were that it would never be a concern.

Y/N tilted her head in thought, letting him lace the fingers of his left hand with her own.

“I would like kids. Yea. But before that is to happen, I'd prefer to be married.” She said, head tipping again to look at him. Tyler knew that black box was still hiding behind him. “We would make cute kids.” We. Tyler melted at the thought, wanting nothing more to have kids with her. The way she said ‘we’, felt serene, as if maybe for him it was almost too good to be true. “So you are expecting marriage in the future?” He struggled to keep his voice calm.

“Oh, absolutely.” She stated. His heart leapt to his mouth, wanting to spill everything his heart had to offer to her. Tyler felt relief blossom in his chest. She sounded so sure. Y/N was hoping for a marriage with him.

“Go on Sugar.” He brought their clasped hands to his lips, pressing a few chaste kisses to her knuckles.

“We would have the wedding at your parents ranch. The scenery is so beautiful. Oh!” Y/N exclaimed suddenly, catching Tyler by surprise as she twisted around in his lap, legs resting on either side of his waist. He looked up at her, the softest of looks on his face as his hands came down to her thighs, rubbing soothing motions into them, before moving to rest on her lower back. “

“That ranch we've always talked about getting. If we find one, then we can have the wedding there? It would have so much more meaning. The kids could grow up there. Have some livestock animals. Some cows, horses. A pig or two. Chickens.” Tyler let his head rest against the back of the truck, a look of complete and utter adoration and love written across his face. He was drowning in it, and was going to bring her down with him. His hands rubbed gently on her lower back, just listening to her ramble, taking in every word as she said it. He listened as she talked about potential baby names. Names for dogs if they ever got one. Or two. Or three. Tyler listened as she planned the rest of their lives together, and he didn't have an issue with it.

“And then obviously There's you.” His brow arched and she couldn't help but snicker.

Obviously? Well I obviously hope so.” His fingers slipped underneath his shirt, trailing across her skin. Y/N stared at him now with the same amount of love that was currently shining within his own eye.

“Marry me.” Y/N stopped, her smile faltered slightly, her eyes widening in surprise.

What?”

“Will you marry me? Be my wife. Let me call you my wife.” He said, the words my wife already creating butterflies in his stomach that he couldn't help.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” He asked confused.

“You ask me when I look like this?” Her hair was a slight mess and she was only in pajamas, but Tyler didn't care. He would never care.

“Sweetheart, I would have asked you if you covered head to toe In mud.” He said, genuinely honest.

Tyler reached behind his back, her eyes moving down to watch the action as he pulled out the black box, flipped it open and revealed the ring. The rose gold band held a soft glow, cast from the various tea lights littered around them. A single diamond sat on top, something simple and calm, and it was all Y/N needed. She didn't need nor want an over complex ring eith too many diamonds, as long as she was happy with who gave it to her.

Y/N went silent, eyes on the ring and tears welling her eyes, as Tyler’s smile grew wider.

“Marry me, Y/N. Let me make your dreams come true.” He whispered quietly, hands coming up to wipe the tears away that had rolled down her cheeks. “let me love you like no other in this world has been loved.”

“Who knew the Tyler Owens, Mr. Tornado Wrangler, can be a sap.” She said, chuckling.

“Only for you darlin’. Now I need an answer.”

Y/N leaned forward, crashing her lips against his, mumbling yes against his lips, letting it become a mantra as she kissed him. His arms tightened around as she sighed happily against his mouth, and when they finally pulled away and Tyler put the ring on her finger, she gave him a mischievous grin.

“I think we should consummate this marriage proposal.” Y/N said, already backing off of Tyler and the truck, who scrambled up in an attempt to follow her.

“I don't think that's a thing but I like the way you think,” and he jumped over the side of the truck, boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud, chasing Y/N towards their motel room, one last grin casted over her shoulder as she disappeared inside.

----

Taglist:

@cevansbab

#twisters tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens

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brunchable · 2 days

Text

Love Child | Steve Rogers × f!Reader.

Words: 7.1K Themes: ANGST, betrayal of trust, break-up. Twigger Warning: Panic attack. Summary: You find out that Steve has a child, and the problem was, you weren't the mother. A/N: Read it if you want to hurt. I woke up and chose emotional damage LMAO. Today I am brave enough to post a Steve angst with no happy ending, I have been stalling but eh. A/N: Also I need to organize who wants to get tagged for ALL of my Steve Rogers fic. I am in a mess here, so if I am not tagging you, that's the reason.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @haruvalentine4321

You stared at the letter in your hands, the words blurring as tears welled in your eyes. Your chest tightened, the walls of the room closing in on you. The world tilted and spun, a sharp pain cutting through your heart as if it had been pierced by a dagger you never saw coming.

The paper crumpled in your hand as the weight of the revelation crushed you. Steve has a child. And the mother was Sharon.

A ragged breath escaped you, your body trembling as you stumbled back, gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself upright. How long? The question echoed in your mind, over and over again.

How long had Steve kept this from you? How long had he looked you in the eyes, told you he loved you, and hidden this secret?

The door creaked open, and you turned, your heart already in tatters, your hands gripping the countertop so hard your knuckles turned white. Steve walked in, his expression soft, unaware of the storm raging within you.

He froze when he saw your face—your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling body. His gaze dropped to the letter in your hand, and in an instant, you saw the recognition hit him hard.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice careful, cautious, like he knew he was stepping into dangerous territory.

“You—” Your voice cracked, but you forced the words out, the pain burning through your chest. “You have a child?”

Steve’s face paled. He opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“No. You don’t get to talk right now,” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury. “How long were you planning to hide this from me, Steve?”

“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

You laughed, the sound bitter. “Not what I think? Steve, you have a child with Sharon. A child. And you didn’t think I had the right to know?”

His jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing he could say now would ever be enough.

“How long?” you demanded, your voice rising. “How long have you known?”

He hesitated, and that hesitation was like another stab to your already bleeding heart.

“Three years,” he whispered, barely able to meet your eyes.

You froze. “Three years?”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you, the air knocked from your lungs. You took a step back, trying to keep yourself from falling apart completely.

“Three years, Steve?” you repeated, your voice soft but trembling with every word. “You’ve known for three years, and you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think that I should know that the man I love has a child?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Steve started, stepping forward, but you recoiled from him, shaking your head.

“That’s your excuse?” you said, incredulous. “You didn’t know how to tell me? So you just decided not to? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think this would never come up?”

Steve’s face twisted in pain, but you couldn’t stop. The dam had broken, and all the hurt, the betrayal, poured out of you like a flood.

“Do you have any idea what that feels like? To find out like this?” You threw the crumpled letter at his chest, your voice breaking as the tears spilled over. “I’ve stood by you through everything. I’ve defended you when everyone else doubted you. I’ve fought for us. I trusted you with everything—and you kept this from me?”

“Y/N, please,” Steve pleaded, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t want to hurt me?” you repeated, your voice trembling with disbelief. “Well, guess what, Steve? You did. You hurt me more than anyone ever has. You kept this secret from me, and now I don’t even know who you are.”

He took another step closer, desperation etched into every line of his face. “I didn’t love Sharon. It wasn’t—”

“I don’t care about Sharon!” you shouted with a bite, cutting him off. “I care about the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. I care about the fact that you’ve looked me in the eyes, slept beside me, told me you loved me—all while hiding this.”

Steve’s lips parted, but no words came out. And in that silence, something inside you shattered.

“I loved you, Steve,” you whispered, the tears flowing freely now, no longer caring to hold them back. “I loved you more than anything. But now? Now all I feel is… hollow.”

He flinched as if the word struck him deeply, but it didn’t stop you.

“You had a choice, Steve. You could have trusted me. You could have told me the truth. But instead, you chose to keep me in the dark. You chose to lie. And now?” Your voice broke again, the weight of your words settling in the air between you. “Now, I don’t even know if I can ever forgive you for that—”

“Oh my God! Will you let me explain?!” Steve exploded, his voice shaking the walls. He stepped forward, fists clenched, his entire body vibrating with anger. “You keep going on and on, like I wanted this to happen! You think I wanted to hide this from you? You don’t even know what it was like!”

Your head snapped back, and your voice matched his fury. “I don’t know what it was like? I’m the one who’s been fooled! For three years! You kept this massive secret from me, and now I’m the one who doesn’t understand?”

“Yeah, you don’t!” he shot back, stepping closer, the space between you charged, toxic. “You have no idea what it was like carrying that around. Every day, wondering if telling you would blow everything apart!”

“Well, guess what?” you yelled, voice rising as your hands trembled at your sides. “You didn’t have to wonder, Steve. Because it’s blown apart now!”

Steve’s jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. “I didn’t lie, Y/N. I didn’t know about the kid until after we were already together!”

“You lied by not telling me when you found out!” you screamed, your chest heaving with the effort. “You made me believe there were no secrets between us, and all this time, you’ve been hiding something so huge! You have a child! A whole other life with Sharon!”

“It’s not a life!” Steve roared, his voice breaking under the weight of his anger. “It was a mistake! Something I never wanted in the first place!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide it? Were you too much of a coward to be honest with me?” Your words hit like daggers, your chest burning from the emotional wreckage piling up between you.

Steve’s face twisted into something hard, something darker. “Coward? Coward? You want to talk about being a coward? How about the time you lied to me?”

Your breath hitched, your eyes narrowing in confusion and shock. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he spat, his voice venomous. “You remember that night you said you were out with Nat, but really, you were meeting with Bucky behind my back. You lied to me about that. Don’t act like you’re innocent here.”

“That’s not the same thing!” you snapped, shaking your head as you stepped closer, your heart hammering in your chest. “I didn’t lie about having a whole ass child, Steve! There’s a pretty huge difference!”

Steve let out a bitter, angry laugh, running his hands through his hair. “No, it’s not the same, but you still lied. You lied because you didn’t want to deal with my reaction, just like I didn’t want to deal with this.”

“I lied about a mission! A mission. Not something that would change everything between us. Don’t you dare try to make this about me when you’re the one who’s been hiding a child for years!”

“You’re so self-righteous,” Steve snapped, his voice full of heat, his chest rising and falling with the force of his anger. “You act like you’re perfect, like you’ve never made a mistake. You’re so focused on my screw-ups, but you don’t even see your own.”

Your mouth dropped open, the words barely able to form as you stared at him in disbelief. “You’re trying to make this my fault? You’re actually blaming me for this?”

Steve’s eyes blazed as he stepped forward, his voice low, seething. “I’m saying you act like you’re the only one who’s hurt here. Like you’re the only one who has a right to be angry. But guess what, Y/N? I’m angry too. I’m angry that I had to carry this weight alone because I didn’t know how to tell you without you tearing me apart for it.”

“You chose that!” you shot back, your voice shaking with fury. “You chose to keep this from me, Steve. Don’t try to make it seem like I forced your hand. You had every chance to be honest, and you didn’t. That’s on you.”

“Of course, it’s on me!” Steve shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “But you act like I’m the only one who’s ever messed up, like your lies don’t count. Like your secrets are somehow better.”

You felt your chest tighten, the tears of rage building again behind your eyes. “You have no right to stand there and compare this to anything I’ve done. You hid a child from me, Steve. Do you even get how massive that is? You took away my right to know.”

“I know!” he yelled, his voice breaking. “I know I fucked up. I know I should’ve told you, but I was scared, okay? I was scared of what it would do to us.”

“And now look at us,” you whispered, the words filled with raw pain. “It’s worse. It’s so much worse because you waited. Because you lied.”

Steve took a deep breath, his voice softening but still tinged with anger. “I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“But you did,” you said, your voice breaking. “You hurt me more than you can imagine. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at you the same way again.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as the weight of your words settled between you. “Y/N…”

You shook your head, stepping back, the tears spilling over now, hot and fast. “You broke us, Steve.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice small, broken. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to fix this.

“I hope it was worth it,” you spat, turning your back on Steve as you stormed toward the stairs. The anger radiated off you, the floor trembling beneath your footsteps as you ascended.

“Y/N—where are you going? What are you doing?” Steve called after you, his voice still thick with frustration and desperation. You didn’t turn back, didn’t even acknowledge him as your heart pounded violently in your chest.

Your feet carried you faster, the distance between you and Steve becoming a chasm you knew neither of you could cross again. You reached the bedroom, flinging the closet doors open with a sharp tug. Your hands shook as you grabbed your suitcase, throwing it onto the bed with a loud thud.

“Y/N, stop!” Steve’s voice was closer now, frantic as he followed you up the stairs, his boots heavy on the hardwood floor. “What are you doing?”

But you kept your back to him, ignoring the pleading edge to his voice as you tore clothes from hangers, shoving them into the suitcase with reckless abandon.

“Y/N—talk to me!” Steve’s voice was sharp, almost panicked now, but you couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t stop.

The closet was a blur of motion as you threw more and more into your bag, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as you fought to keep from sobbing. You had to focus, had to keep moving, because if you stopped—if you stopped for even one second—you knew you’d break completely.

“Where are you going?” Steve demanded, his voice breaking as he grabbed your arm, forcing you to face him. “What are you doing, Y/N?”

Your eyes snapped up to his, blazing with fury. You ripped your arm out of his grasp, your voice dripping with venom. “I’m leaving, Steve. What does it look like I’m doing?”

He blinked, stunned by your words, his hands falling to his sides. “You’re not… You can’t just—”

“I can,” you cut him off, zipping up the half-packed suitcase with a sharp tug. “And I will.”

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths. “You’re just going to walk away? After everything?”

You whirled on him, your eyes flashing. “What else do you want me to do, Steve? Stay? Pretend like everything’s fine? You betrayed me.”

You shook your head, grabbing another handful of clothes and shoving them into the suitcase. “I can’t do that.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, his voice filled with a desperate edge. “I made a mistake, Y/N! I know I did. But you can’t just throw everything away like this.”

“You threw it away,” you snapped, your voice rising again, your hands trembling as you yanked open the dresser. “The second you decided to lie to me, you threw us away.”

His hand slammed against the dresser, stopping your frantic movements, his voice breaking with emotion.

“I didn’t want to lose you!”

You froze, your fingers gripping the edge of the drawer, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Well, congratulations, Steve,” you whispered, your voice raw and ragged. “You lost me anyway.”

You pulled away from him, resuming your packing with a fury, trying to shove everything into the suitcase as quickly as possible. You couldn’t stay here any longer—not with him, not after everything.

“Y/N, please,” Steve’s voice cracked, and for the first time, you heard the fear beneath the anger. “Don’t do this. We can fix this.”

You snapped the suitcase shut, turning to face him one last time, your throat burning as you fought so hard not to break down in front of him. “We can’t fix this, Steve. You broke it. You broke us. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

His face crumpled, the pain in his eyes matching the hollow ache in your chest. “I love you, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat as you turned away from him, grabbing your suitcase and pulling it off the bed.

“I wish that was enough,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Steve took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if he could pull you back, but you were already gone. Already walking toward the door, the weight of everything crashing down around you.

You didn’t look back as you left, didn’t let yourself see the devastation on his face. Because if you did—if you saw the hurt in his eyes—you might have broken completely.

× × × ×

The rain hammered against the windshield, streaking in endless lines, distorting the world outside as you drove aimlessly through the storm. The wipers struggled to keep up, but it didn’t matter—you could barely see through the blur of tears clouding your vision.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white as your chest heaved with shallow, uneven breaths. The weight of everything was too much—the anger, the betrayal, the unbearable ache in your heart. It felt like your whole world had collapsed in a single moment, and now you were drowning in the wreckage.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.

With a sharp jerk, you pulled the car to the side of the road, the tires skidding slightly on the wet pavement. The sound of the blinker clicked furiously in the sudden stillness, an incessant reminder of the chaos swirling inside you.

And then, the dam broke.

A sob ripped from your throat, deep and raw, shaking your entire body as you collapsed forward, your head falling against the steering wheel. The tears came in a rush, uncontrollable and violent, each breath harder to take than the last. You gasped, but no air came—just the suffocating weight of your own grief, crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your chest ached, a sharp, stabbing pain that radiated through your ribs, like something inside you was breaking apart, splintering under the pressure. You tried to breathe, but the sobs came too fast, too strong, wrenching your body with each convulsion.

It felt like your heart was being crushed, squeezed until it couldn’t beat anymore. You pressed a hand to your chest, desperate, coughing between sobs as you tried to force the air back into your lungs. But it wouldn’t come.

You were drowning.

The sound of the blinker ticked steadily in the background, but all you could hear was your own ragged breathing, the gasps for air that never came, the broken cries that tore from your throat.

You couldn’t stop.

The tears burned as they fell, hot and endless, but you didn’t wipe them away. You couldn’t. Your body was shaking, your chest so tight it felt like you were being crushed from the inside. Every sob sent fresh waves of pain through you—pain so deep it felt like your heart was being ripped apart.

You heaved, gasping, your hand clutching your chest as though you could somehow hold yourself together. But you couldn’t. Everything inside you was breaking, crumbling under the weight of the agony that consumed you.

You coughed, your throat raw from the sobs, the pressure in your chest building until it felt like you might burst. You wanted it to stop—needed it to stop—but the pain only deepened, settling into every corner of your body, pressing down harder with every breath you couldn’t take.

You screamed then, the sound tearing through the car, harsh and guttural, a cry that came from somewhere deep inside—the part of you that had been shattered beyond repair. It filled the space, mingling with the sound of the rain and the steady tick of the blinker, a scream of pure, unfiltered anguish.

And still, the tears came.

It felt like hours before the sobs began to slow, before the heaving breaths turned into shallow gasps, your body trembling from the exertion. But the pain remained—a deep, aching wound that throbbed in your chest, a constant reminder that everything you had was gone.

Your hands shook as you wiped your eyes, though the tears wouldn’t stop completely. You leaned back in the seat, staring blankly out at the rain-soaked world, feeling empty. Hollow.

And as the blinker continued to tick, the world outside was nothing but a blur of rain and darkness, you realized you didn’t know how to pick up the pieces of what was left of you.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for your phone, the weight of it heavy in your palm, the screen blurred by the tears still streaming down your face. Every part of you ached—your chest tight, your breath shaky, the sobs still threatening to break free. You could barely see through the haze of grief, but you needed someone. Needed someone to pull you out of this spiral before it swallowed you whole.

With a shaking hand, you scrolled through your contacts, and your thumb hovered over her name—Nat. The one person who had always been there, who wouldn’t ask too many questions, who would understand with just a single word.

The ringing felt like it stretched on forever, each second punctuated by the relentless ticking of the blinker, the steady beat of rain against the windshield.

Finally, the call connected.

"Y/N?" Nat’s voice was soft.

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. A choked sob escaped you instead, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You clutched the phone tighter, your other hand pressing hard against your chest, as though you could hold yourself together long enough to speak.

"Y/N?" Nat’s voice sharpened, filled with worry now. "What’s going on? Are you okay?"

"I—I can’t—" The words came out broken, shattered between sobs. You coughed, gasping for breath, trying to force out the words that felt stuck in your throat. "I can’t… breathe."

"Hey, hey, breathe." Nat’s voice softened, grounding you, pulling you out of the suffocating darkness. "Take a breath. What’s going on?"

You sucked in a breath, but it was jagged, painful. The tears wouldn’t stop, your chest still heaving, but Nat’s voice kept you tethered, kept you from spiraling further.

“It’s Steve,” you whispered, voice barely audible through the sobs. “He—he lied to me, Nat. About… everything.”

Silence on the other end. Nat didn’t press. She didn’t need to. She knew there was more, something deeper, something that had torn you apart from the inside out. And she waited.

“I left,” you managed to choke out, your fingers trembling as you gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. “I just… I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay.”

“Where are you?” Nat asked, her voice calm, steady—a lifeline in the chaos.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, blinking through the blur of tears as you glanced out at the rain-soaked road. You didn’t even know where you had driven to—just away. Away from him, away from the lies, away from everything that had broken you.

“Okay,” Nat’s voice was soothing now, a steady rhythm against the sound of your sobs. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. Just breathe, alright? I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”

You coughed, the pain in your chest still sharp, still suffocating. You pressed your forehead against the steering wheel, forcing yourself to take a shallow, shaky breath. “I’m… by the old bridge, off the main road.”

“I know where that is,” Nat said, her voice quick, decisive. “Stay there. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You nodded, though she couldn’t see you, your hands still trembling as you pulled them away from the steering wheel. The exhaustion hit you then, hard and heavy, the adrenaline leaving you drained, hollow.

“Nat?” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know how to… how to deal with this,” you admitted, your chest tightening again as the sobs threatened to resurface. “I don’t know if I can.”

Nat’s voice was soft, but firm. “You can. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

The phone went silent, and for the first time in hours, you let out a breath that didn’t feel like it was tearing you apart.

She was coming.

× × × ×

The rain pounded against the car’s roof, each drop falling harder than the last. It was as if the sky itself had opened up, matching the storm raging inside you. Your hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, your chest still heaving from the sobs that had wracked your body. The air inside the car felt suffocating. The sound of the blinker—tick, tick, tick—was the only steady thing amidst the chaos of your breath and the downpour outside.

You couldn’t stop shaking.

When Nat’s car finally pulled up beside yours, you didn’t move. You couldn’t. The weight of your grief had pinned you to the seat, your body too exhausted to do anything but tremble. Her car door opened, and within seconds, she was there—ripping your passenger door open and sliding in without hesitation.

“Y/N.” Nat’s voice was soft, firm—grounding.

She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to. The look on her face said everything: she knew. She always knew when things were falling apart. Her hand gently rested on your shoulder, the touch comforting in its simplicity.

You tried to speak, but your throat burned, your chest too tight to form words. Another sob broke free instead, and Nat’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently, her presence steady even as your world seemed to collapse around you.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing anchor. “We’ll get through this.”

But you weren’t okay.

From the corner of your eye, you saw movement just outside the car—Bucky. He stood there in the rain, his hair dripping wet, eyes shadowed with concern as he watched from a distance. He hadn’t stepped closer, hadn’t spoken, but you could feel the weight of his gaze. Like he wanted to be there for you, but wasn’t sure if he should.

The door on Nat’s side clicked as she spoke again, her voice a little more urgent now. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Slowly, with her guidance, you unclenched your grip from the steering wheel and wiped at your face with shaking hands. Your body was so worn out that you could hardly feel the motion of it as you finally opened the door and stepped out into the rain. Nat was at your side instantly, holding an umbrella over you as she guided you toward her car.

Bucky was there, too, close but not too close, watching every step you took as if he was waiting—waiting for something to fall apart that he could help catch.

Nat opened the back door and gently helped you inside, her presence so calm, so steady, it nearly broke you all over again. “You’re safe now,” she murmured, tucking you in as if you were something fragile. “Just breathe, Y/N.”

You nodded, though your chest still felt like it was caving in. And then, in the middle of the downpour, you heard Bucky’s voice—low, hesitant—from behind Nat.

“I’ll drive her car back to the compound.”

Nat glanced over at him, “Yeah. Thanks.”

You could hear the shuffle of Bucky’s footsteps through the rain as he climbed into your car, the engine rumbling to life. And in that moment, you felt a strange tug of comfort—knowing he was there, that he was watching out for you, even from afar.

Nat slid into the driver’s seat beside you, her hand resting lightly on the gear shift. She turned her head just slightly, her gaze soft. “You’re not alone, Y/N.”

But as she pulled away from the curb, the rain still lashing against the windows, you couldn’t help but feel like part of you had been left behind in the storm—shattered and scattered, waiting to be pieced back together.

And when you glanced out the window, you saw Bucky’s figure in the distance, his eyes never leaving you as you disappeared into the rain.

× × × ×

Nat’s room was a cocoon of warmth compared to the cold, stormy world outside. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the space, casting long shadows that felt strangely comforting. You sat on the edge of the bed, your arms wrapped around yourself, the weight of everything still heavy on your shoulders. Nat was beside you, her hand resting gently on your knee, her presence steady, unwavering.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern, “you’re going to get through this. I know it feels like everything’s falling apart right now, but you’re stronger than you think.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding even though you didn’t entirely believe her. The weight in your chest made it hard to breathe, and it felt like no matter how many words of comfort she offered, the broken pieces of your heart would never fully heal. But Nat was there, and her words were like a balm, even if they couldn’t fully take the pain away.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… I want to get away. Far away.”

Nat’s hand tightened slightly on your knee, her expression understanding. “Where do you want to go?”

From the far side of the room, Bucky shifted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his face shadowed in the dim light. He hadn’t said much since they brought you back to the compound, but his presence was constant, like a silent protector.

“Where would you go?” Bucky asked quietly, his voice low but steady, cutting through the silence. His blue eyes met yours, calm, as if he’d follow you anywhere if it meant keeping you safe.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart still aching, but then—despite everything, despite the pain—a tiny smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Switzerland.”

Nat’s eyebrows shot up, a small laugh escaping her lips despite the tension. “Switzerland?”

You shrugged, forcing a laugh of your own, though it was weak. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to live there. You know… fresh air, the Alps, chocolate. All that good stuff.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, his arms dropping slightly as he watched you. His lips quirked into a faint smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes but still offered some kind of warmth.

“Switzerland, huh?” he said, his voice lighter, though you could still hear the worry beneath it. “Sounds like a solid plan.”

You nodded, trying to hold on to the fleeting moment of levity. “Yeah, I’ll just… disappear into the mountains. Maybe open a chocolate shop. Be a hermit or something.”

Nat let out a small chuckle, squeezing your knee gently. “Well, if you’re moving to Switzerland, I expect free chocolate for life.”

For a moment, the heaviness in the room lifted, the faint laughter between you, Nat, and Bucky providing a small reprieve from the storm inside. But it didn’t last long. The ache in your chest was still there, gnawing at you from the inside out.

“I just… I don’t know if I can stay here,” you whispered, your voice cracking again.

Nat pulled you into a soft hug, her arms wrapped around you as she rested her chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Just know that whatever you decide, we’re here for you.”

“Let’s go. We’ve got the Quinjet.” Bucky said casually.

You blinked, taken aback, your mind struggling to process if he was serious. “Wait… isn’t that illegal?”

Bucky’s smirk grew a little wider, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Not if you say you’re living in the Alps. No one will know.”

Nat chuckled beside you, shaking her head in disbelief. “Seriously, Buck?”

He shrugged, still leaning casually against the wall. “I’m just saying. You want to go to Switzerland, we can be there in a few hours.”

Despite the exhaustion weighing you down, you couldn’t help but laugh softly, a real one this time. The thought of disappearing into the mountains with Bucky and Nat—away from everything, even just for a moment—felt like a breath of fresh air in the midst of the chaos inside you.

Nat gave you a playful nudge. “See? Even Bucky’s ready to smuggle you out of here if you need it.”

“But I have to handle something first,” he added, his voice dropping slightly, that protective edge returning. “When I’m done, we’ll go.”

× × × ×

The night was dark, the rain having slowed to a light drizzle. Bucky stalked through the compound grounds, his mind racing, heart pounding with a mix of anger and frustration. He’d seen Steve’s name pop up on his phone—a heads-up that the man was on his way here. To see you.

And Bucky couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything Steve did.

Steve’s figure appeared through the mist, walking toward the compound with his usual purposeful stride, but the moment he caught sight of Bucky, his steps slowed.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice was wary, confused.

“You’re not going in there.” Bucky stepped into his path, his face hard.

Steve frowned, his eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about? I need to see Y/N.”

“You’re not going near her.” Bucky’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“She’s my girlfriend, Bucky. I have a right to talk to her.” Steve’s gaze darkened, his frustration mounting.

Bucky’s laugh was bitter, sharp. “Girlfriend? You lost that right the second you lied to her. The second you hurt her, you punk.”

Steve stepped forward, his voice low, angry. “This isn’t your place. I need to fix this. I need to talk to her.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with fury, and for a moment, all the years of holding back, of stepping aside for Steve, bubbled to the surface. He moved closer, his voice low and dangerous.

“You don’t get it, do you? I gave up on Y/N for you. I stood back—for you—because I thought you’d take care of her. And now? Now you’ve gone and fucked her over.”

Steve’s face twisted in confusion, anger flashing in his eyes. “What are you talking about? Gave up? She’s never been—”

“She was,” Bucky snapped, cutting him off. “Before you even realized what you had, Steve, I was there. But I didn’t do anything because I thought she’d be better off with you. You were the golden boy, the hero. And now you’ve ruined her.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his chest rising and falling with barely controlled breaths. “You’ve been in love with her this whole time?”

Bucky didn’t flinch. His voice was steady, hard. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? What matters is you hurt her, Steve. You don’t get to fix this on your terms.”

Steve’s fists clenched as he stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. “Move. This is between me and Y/N.”

“I’m not letting you through,” Bucky said, his eyes blazing, daring Steve to push him.

Steve’s frustration boiled over, and with a sharp movement, he shoved Bucky hard in the chest, trying to get past him. “Get out of my way, Bucky!”

Bucky stumbled barely, but he recovered almost immediately. The moment he regained his balance, he shoved Steve back with just as much force, his voice a low, angry growl.

“You’re not going anywhere near her!”

Steve snarled and came at Bucky again, this time grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the doorframe. “I need to talk to her! You don’t get to decide!”

Bucky’s hands flew up, gripping Steve’s jacket as he shoved him back again, harder this time, their faces inches apart. “She doesn’t want to see you right now!”

Steve’s eyes flashed with desperatiom, and before either of them realized it, they were nose-to-nose, fists clenched, chests heaving, the tension dangerous.

“You think you’re the only one who cares about her?” Steve snapped, his voice low and venomous. “I love her.”

“And you’ve proven exactly what that means to you,” Bucky bit back, his voice filled with icy fury. “You’re not fixing this by charging in like you always do. She’s done with you.”

Steve let out a frustrated growl and swung his arm out, pushing Bucky off him. “You think I’m just supposed to walk away?”

Bucky shoved Steve back again, his grip tightening on Steve’s shirt, their faces just inches apart now. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. “You think stepping in now, after everything you’ve done, makes it better? She’s broken because of you. You did that, Steve. And I’m not letting you make it worse.”

Steve’s nostrils flared, his eyes dark with a mixture of anger and something deeper—guilt, maybe. His grip tightened on Bucky’s jacket as he squared up, their bodies tense, on the edge of an all-out brawl. “And what, you’re just going to sweep in? Take care of her? You think that’s what she needs right now?”

“I’m trying to keep her from getting hurt any more than she already has,” Bucky hissed, his voice barely more than a whisper now, his eyes locked on Steve’s. “She trusted you. She loved you. And you broke her. So yeah, I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you away from her until she’s ready to deal with you.”

Steve’s breath hitched, his voice sharp with frustration. “You think you’re better than me? You think you haven’t hurt her too?”

Bucky’s grip tightened as his eyes flashed dangerously. “I never lied to her. I never betrayed her.”

Steve let out a short, bitter laugh. “But you kept quiet, didn’t you? You stood there, watching, and said nothing. You let me take her, and now you’re pretending like you’re the hero. But the truth is, you were a coward then, and you’re still a coward now.”

Something snapped in Bucky at those words. His fist shot up, shoving Steve hard enough to slam him back into the doorframe with a loud thud, his chest heaving as he glared at his best friend with pure fury in his eyes. “You don’t get to talk to me about being a coward. I gave her up because I thought she’d be better off with you. But you ruined her, Steve.”

For a second, Steve’s eyes flashed with something close to regret, but the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. He stepped forward again, ready for whatever came next. “I didn’t know. I didn’t—”

“You never knew,” Bucky growled, pushing him back again, but this time it was more controlled, less of a full force shove and more of a warning. “You were too busy being the hero to see what was right in front of you.”

Steve took a deep breath, his hands still balled into fists, but something shifted between them—like they both realized, in that moment, that this fight wasn’t going to solve anything. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they both let go of each other, their chests still heaving with the remnants of the almost-fight that had just played out.

The tension between them lingered, thick and heavy in the air, but neither of them moved. They stood there, inches apart, breathing hard, their anger still simmering just beneath the surface.

“You don’t get to just walk in there and fix this,” Bucky said, his voice low but firm.

Steve took a step back, his face still tense with frustration and guilt. He didn’t say anything.

“Go home Steve.” Bucky insisted, “You’ve done enough.”

× × × ×

6 months later.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee curled in the air as you stepped out of the café, clutching the two steaming cups in your hands. The world seemed quieter here, like the city didn’t press in on you quite as much, even though you had only been back for a few days. Six months. Six months of distance, of trying to build yourself back up after being shattered into pieces.

You inhaled deeply, letting the cool breeze rush over you, easing some of the tension coiled tight in your chest.

And then—everything stopped.

From across the street, you felt it. The weight of someone’s gaze locking onto you. Slowly, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat, your body freezing in place.

Steve.

He stood there, as if time itself had conspired to bring this moment crashing down upon you. His face was frozen in shock, his hand mid-motion as the small boy next to him tugged on his sleeve, trying to get his attention. But Steve’s focus was entirely on you.

He looked the same—yet older, somehow, like the months had worn him down in ways you hadn’t expected. His eyes—those familiar blue eyes—locked onto yours, and the rest of the world fell away.

Your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the city’s noise. All that existed was the look on his face—surprise, yes, but there was something else too. Regret. Pain. Questions he couldn’t voice.

You felt rooted to the spot, torn between the urge to run and the overwhelming need to hold your ground. You could see it in his eyes—he wanted to come closer, to ask where you had been, why you left, why you never told him. His hand gripped the boy’s shoulder like he needed something to tether him to the moment.

And then, with a jarring snap, the moment broke.

A warm arm slid around your waist, pulling you into a comforting embrace towards his body.

“Hey love,” Dane Whitman’s familiar British accent rumbled softly beside you, his lips brushing your temple as he pressed a gentle kiss there. “Got your ham and cheese croissant.”

The simple, easy intimacy of it would have been grounding—if not for the fact that you could feel Steve’s eyes still burning into you from across the street. You could sense him standing there, as if the world had collapsed around him. As if he was watching something slip away that he hadn’t even realized he was losing.

Dane’s brow furrowed as he noticed your tension, noticed the way you hadn’t responded, hadn’t even moved.

“Y/N?” he asked softly, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer.

When you didn’t answer, Dane followed your line of sight.

He stiffened.

You didn’t need to see his expression to know what was happening. The air between the three of you felt charged, heavy with unspoken words, with everything that had been left behind. Dane’s fingers flexed against your waist, a silent claim—a reassurance, or maybe a question he didn’t dare ask.

Because he knew who Steve was. And he knew exactly what seeing him again meant.

You could feel the tension roll through Dane’s body as he lifted his gaze from Steve back to you, his eyes softening. He didn’t ask, didn’t press. But his arm around you was both a comfort and a shield.

“Let’s go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t dare look back at Steve again. You couldn’t.

Dane gave a subtle nod, but his hold on you never faltered. He gently guided you down the street, his body leaning protectively into yours as if he could shield you from the weight of the past you were leaving behind.

But as you walked away, the image of Steve lingered. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back, watching as you disappeared from his reach once again. And even though you didn’t turn around, you knew—you knew—what he had seen.

You. Walking away.

With someone else.

The distance between you and Steve had always been a wound, one you had tried to heal in the months you were gone. But this? This felt like salt poured into an open cut, the sting of it sharper than you’d anticipated.

Because despite everything, despite the way your heart still aches from the cracks he had left, a part of you wondered—what if?

But the life you had returned to wasn’t the one you left. And as Dane’s arm tightened around your waist, grounding you in the present, you knew that the past—no matter how deeply it was woven into your soul—was behind you.

Even if it wasn’t behind Steve.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagines #captain america x female reader #captain america x you #captain america x y/n #captain america smut #captain america imagines #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #chris evans characters #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #captain america angst

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nickeverdeen · 3 days

Text

Behind Closed Doors | Hazel Callahan x fem!reader

Pairings: Hazel Callahan x fem!reader (romantic), PJ x fem!reader (younger sister), Isabel x fem!reader (platonic), Isabel x Hazel (platonic), PJ x Hazel (platonic)

Type of fic: Romance, Character Development, Tiny Hurt/Comfort, Drama

Warnings: None (I think?)

Summary: You and Hazel have been dating for some time and she never preassured you to become public as you weren’t ready to come out, but how does it change when Isabel finds out about you two?

Tag List: @callsignwidow

—————————

You joined the fight club reluctantly, more out of curiosity and a desire to stay close to Hazel than anything else. The whole idea was insane—punching people to get back at the football team—but PJ was all in, and that meant you were too, to some extent. Besides, Hazel had been so excited about it, and you couldn't resist the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the club.

Hazel didn’t know, but that was one of the many reasons you fell for her.

It was risky being together, especially since you hadn’t come out yet, but Hazel was understanding. She never pushed you, and that patience only made you fall deeper. However, keeping it a secret, especially from PJ, was getting harder. Especially when you both ended up at the same places, like the fight club.

Your eyes always found Hazel, checking if she was okay after each sparring match, wincing when she took a hit. It was a miracle no one had noticed yet. Well, except maybe Isabella. She had a sharp eye, and recently, you’d noticed her glancing at you during the club meetings, her brows furrowing slightly when you got too concerned about Hazel. But she hadn’t said anything—at least not yet.

Today, you arrived at the gym earlier than usual. The place was empty, save for a few stray mats on the floor. Hazel was already there, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, lost in thought.

"Hey," you greeted softly as you approached her, immediately noticing a bruise on her arm from the last session. "How are you feeling? That last fight looked rough."

Hazel shrugged with a small smile. "I’m fine. Just a bruise or two."

You frowned, gently reaching out to trace the edge of the darkened skin. “You should be more careful, you know. This isn’t exactly safe.”

“I know,” Hazel replied, her voice softening as she looked at you. “But it’s worth it... being here with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling warmth spread through your chest. Hazel had a way of making you feel special, of making you forget the fear of being found out. And when you looked into her eyes, you saw something that made your heart skip a beat—complete adoration. It was as if she still couldn’t believe that someone cared about her like this, that someone wanted her.

Your fingers moved from her arm to her hair, playing with the soft strands. Hazel closed her eyes, leaning into your touch. Leaning in, you kissed her, your lips meeting hers gently. It wasn’t hurried or desperate, just a tender moment of connection that made the world outside the gym fade away.

When you pulled back, Hazel was smiling softly, her eyes half-lidded in contentment. You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence, when suddenly you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind you.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat as you turned around, eyes wide with fear. Isabel stood there, her arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

Panic gripped you, and you stepped back, your mind racing. You weren’t ashamed of being with Hazel—far from it—but the idea of people finding out before you were ready terrified you. Your breath quickened, and you found yourself stuttering, trying to find the right words but coming up short.

Hazel, seeing your distress, stepped forward, taking your hand in hers. “Isabel,” she started, her voice steady, “before you say anything, let me explain.”

Isabel raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. Hazel squeezed your hand, giving you a reassuring look before continuing as she explained everything carefully.

Isabel’s gaze softened slightly as she listened, and you could see the wheels turning in her head. She let out a small sigh, then looked at you, her expression more understanding than you expected.

“I get it,” she said finally. “Secrets are tough. But if you’re worried about me telling anyone... I won’t. It’s not my place.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “But you two aren’t as subtle as you think. It’s kinda obvious when you start freaking out every time Hazel takes a hit.”

You blushed, but a small smile tugged at your lips. Hazel chuckled softly beside you, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. The tension in your chest began to ease, replaced by a sense of relief.

“Thanks, Isabel,” Hazel said, her tone sincere.

Isabel shrugged, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. “No problem. But seriously, be careful. Both of you.”

The three of you talked for a bit longer, Isabel asking a few questions about how long you’d been together and how you managed to keep it a secret. Hazel answered most of them, her calm demeanor helping you find your footing again. Eventually, you joined in, feeling more at ease as the conversation continued.

By the time the others started arriving, you felt more confident. Isabel had promised to keep your secret, and you believed her. You and Hazel waited for your turn to spar, standing close but not touching—at least not in a way that would give anything away.

But as the session went on, something clicked and you moved behind Hazel, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your chin on her shoulder. She leaned back into your embrace with a contented sigh, and you placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Whatever fears you had about coming out were still there, but they didn’t seem as overwhelming now. Hazel had been right all along—it was worth it. And as you held her close, surrounded by people who would understand, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t expected.

For now, this was enough.

#imagine #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you

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beevean · 1 day

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If I’m being honest, you are all getting way too hung up on fake diseases and attacking a writer as if he personally attacked your family. It’s a strange obsession you have and you guys always come at any small nitpick as if it’s the end of the world. It’s a weird obsession and you have all been doing it for years. Maybe you liked Sunset Heights getting a remix but you also play victim when people don’t like the 2010s games. You can see Sonic is more successful now and doing things much better but you just like to sit in your anger towards the series for years. I’ll add that you’re much more sane in your reactions than RandomtheFox, but this whole side of the fandom here is so pathetic. The endless loop of anything new coming out for Sonic, and your little posse hating on it because it isn’t the meta era or because Ian Flynn has his name on it makes me glad you guys are a small minority in the fandom.

Do you want to know why we're discussing this?

If you go back and read our discussions, see how much we brought up with this little detail!

I looked up the effects of low gravity on the human body: I learned something new about science. I tried to put into words why this detail is harder to accept than Sonic breathing in space: this is about stories and world building. I immediately found a replacement idea. We discussed about SA2, its gameplay mechanics, its cutscenes. Someone even brought up the idea of drawing parallels with AIDS and how it would affect Maria. Negativity can stem from a place of reasoning, "how would I do that?", and it makes me use my brain in a fun way. I'm aware it's a inconsequential detail, but I'm having fun!

As for the rest of the message, yeah, we are a minority. Which makes me wonder why you care so much about a group of, what, four people?

Why don't I get any engagement when I'm positive, but suddenly people are up my ass when I talk about something negative? I didn't even tag most of my posts. Bro half of the Sonic fandom blocked me already because I'm a dirty sinning IDW non-enjoyer. I am not bothering anyone.

By the way, my negativity about IDW once even resulted in me writing a fic about it. Again, creativity and genuine discussions about writing a story and its downfalls. It nourishes the brain.

I don't like this new direction for Sonic. There, happy? I don't feel catered to, as a 2000s fan, by all this "REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE COOL????" stuff, not to mention I'm just not a Shadow fan so seeing him with wings and shit does nothing for me. I am annoyed because this used to be a franchise dear to me, but the current environment, both games and fandom, alienates me. I am also aware that, precisely because I'm in the minority, I'll just have to wait until ST changes trend again.

If my writer side activates when I talk about a writing decision I don't like and I'm having fun dissecting it, let me, alright? You can find me cringe, if you want to, but I'm not doing anything different than other fans, just directed towards a less acceptable target and in the privacy of my blocked blog.

Also: to be perfectly honest, if it only takes me one day of mild bitching to get anons yelling at me that I'm a joyless bastard doomed to be sad because I refuse to be happy, it kind of makes me want to be saltier out of spite. I'm already a bad person, might as well, right?

#i'm asking again: why isn't the cv fandom crawling up my asshole in the same way?#what is about sonic that makes fans wanting to squash any dissenting?#i accept the apology message you sent but this still needed addressing #edit: no wait there was *one* cv fan who crawled up my asshole but at least they pretended it was about me replying to a screenshot #so they caught the occasion to call me rude - and yeah fine #it wasn't specifically because i was being negative

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jeannereames · 2 days

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Do you have any thoughts/theories on what it would've been like if Alexander ever returned to Pella? (sorry if this was already asked, tumblr's search system isn't really helpful)

What if Alexander Had Lived to Turn West?

First, I agree on Tumblr’s search system. It’s become increasingly bad. Even I can’t find posts I KNOW I made and tagged. I’m starting to compile a list of the more important (and lengthy) posts on various subjects, for my own reference. I wish Tumblr would let us pin several posts, not just one. (I’ve also sent a complaint feedback to Tumblr about this.)

Anyway, to the question: before we get to the “fun” (speculative) part, let’s address how likely it is he’d GO back. And as part of that, we need to ruminate a bit on what he might have done, if he’d returned west. So, let’s play a little “What-if?”

We must also keep in mind travel time. In the modern world, we can forget how long it took back then to get from Point A to Point B. Had he lived to attack Carthage (as I think he planned to do), or at least circumnavigate Arabia—both are on the southern coast of the Mediterranean. (See my tweaked map with significant places I mention below marked in purple, and recall that they tended to sail along a coast, not straight through the middle.) Macedonia is in the NW corner of the Aegean Sea. Such a side-trip would have eaten up a couple months. There might have been a sneaky reason for him to do that very thing: to come at Carthage from the north. (See discussion below.) But only if Arabia was a ruse all along. If he did mean to attack Arabia (and I think he intended that too), he'd go the southern route, then after, check on the progress of Alexandria (and visit the shrines for Hephaistion that he’d ordered built), before heading west.

If he did choose that southern route, he wouldn’t have returned to Pella before attacking Arabia or Carthage. And after…well, Italy was on the way back, so he’d probably have gone there first. And yes, I think after dealing with Carthage, he’d have used avenging the death of his uncle (Alexandros of Epiros) as an excuse to attack the Greek colonies in S. Italy. If he’d been successful against Carthage, I’m pretty sure south Italy, and possibly the north too, would have capitulated to avoid being leveled. Even Rome. At that point, Rome was in no position to fight such a titanic military powerhouse. Too many think of Rome later and backread the extent of Roman resistance into earlier periods.

Depending on the length of the campaign (e.g., how hard was any opposition), he’d have been in his mid-30s by then. Incidentally, if you’d like a speculative “What if Alexander went West,” I recommend A Choice of Destinies by Melissa Scott. (Ignore the cover.) She does have him return to Greece first, but because Thebes is in revolt (which called him back in the first place; he never reaches India). That’s the sort of event that would get him back to Greece.

There’s been speculation in both fiction and history that he didn’t want to go home because he was avoiding “his terrible mother” (as Tarn put it). I’ve written before on why Oedipal Complexes are both very modern and very wrong to assign to Alexander. I can’t now locate that post (annoyingly), but did find this one about Alexander’s relationship with Olympias in later years. So, I don’t think avoiding Olympias would have kept him from Greece/Macedonia before going west. If anything, the opportunity to see his family would have been a draw, not a dissuading point.

So, we can postulate two possible return scenarios. The first would be a side-trip on his way to Carthage as trickery to conceal his real target. After leaving Pella, he’d circumnavigate Greece to the Peloponnese, then cross the Ionian Sea to Sicily (a typical Greek trade route), and then sail around the southern edge of the island to pop across to Carthage from the north.

In this scenario, he’d be in “swing-by” mode. He’d already asked Antipatros to bring him fresh troops, so he’d have been picking them up, or acquiring more. As a recruiting campaign, it would have been short, but he’d no doubt make several religious sacrifices at Dion, Aigai, and Pella, and perhaps even visit Delphi for a prophecy about the west.

He would not bring his Asian wives with him in either scenario. First, it’s a campaign, not a family visit. But also, he intended them to stay in Babylon (or Susa). By that point, Roxane and probably also Statiera would have given birth. If both infants were male, Statiera’s would be designated heir in Asia. If only Roxana’s was male, he’d still be the “spare” by dint of his mother’s lower birth, but better than nothing in the meantime.

It’s quite possible that he intended a divided but hierarchical rule not so different from Assyrian patterns, where one heir was sent to Babylon while Daddy ruled in Nineveh and trained the other. He almost certainly meant his son by Statiera to rule in Persia/Asia, but perhaps a different son to rule in the west—one likely not even conceived yet.

I do not think he’d have married a Macedonian. He’d be looking for another political marriage, maybe to a Greek (Athenian, Syracusan…), but more likely, he’d marry a Carthaginian after any war (or as part of any peace treaty with Carthage). At that point, Carthage was the powerhouse in the Western Med. Remember, Rome had only begun her consolidation of the Italic peninsula in the wake of the Gaulic sack of the city. Alexander in Italy might have stopped that cold.

Anyway, whatever marriage he made in the west (or couple of marriages) would have been intended to produce an heir to reign there, probably subservient to any son by Statiera after Alexander’s own death, but it’s hard to know for sure. Roxana’s son (and Herakles by Barsine) would have been third and fourth fiddles. That’s WHY Roxana killed Statiera. Her status wasn’t high enough, and her son would have been destined to be regional governor in the NE territories (where his family was from): e.g., troublesome Baktria/Sogdiana. Herakles would probably have been given Asia Minor (where his Persian family was from). (More on Herakles in another post.)

But back to this scenario: if he visited on the way, it would have been a quick trip until he was off again to another campaign. (Not unlike Daddy who, in his latter years, didn’t spend much time in Pella.)

Now, let’s look at scenario #2: a visit after any victories in Arabia, Carthage, and possibly Italy. That would be a different homecoming, less pressed for time.

That said, he wouldn’t have intended to stay. After securing the eastern/middle Mediterranean, he might have driven up into Europe, to re-secure Thrace to the Danube and scout for river connections between the Black and Caspian Seas. There aren’t any, but they didn’t know that. In fact, late in his campaign, he’d already sent somebody north to do that very scouting, so this would be a follow-up.

Thrace had fallen away from Macedonian control in in his later years, thanks to the powerful Odrysian King Seuthes III. Also, Alexander hadn’t forgotten those Celts who’d been singularly unimpressed by him early in his reign. (ha) Alternatively, he might have decided to go South of Egypt to Meroë, or west of Italy to Spain. But as he was centered in Greece, my bet is north into Eastern Europe. He already had incentive from a rebellious Thrace.

What would this homecoming have been like? STUPENDOUS, of course. All the stops pulled out. Macedonia was a gift-exchange society, so bringing home a fair bit of booty would be important. We’re told he sent presents home regularly, but this would be above and beyond. It would serve two functions:

First, he’d get to claim to be the wealthiest, most successful Macedonian king EVAR, and then some. So personal fame and honor would be on the line.

Second, throwing around oodles of wealth would be a great recruiting tool. His constant warring meant he was also in constant need of new troops. In his last years, it was clear he was happy to get troops from a variety of peoples, but the Macedonian core remained (as in the Successor Wars). Of course, continually draining Macedonia of men was bad for the future population, but “sustainability” was not in any way an ancient concept, whether in resources or in manpower. Early in his career, he did show a little awareness of this, sending back men for a “conjugal visit,” but as the campaign continued, he stopped worrying about it.

Anyway, he would also probably take the opportunity to build that giant tomb for daddy that was part of his Last Plans. Hard to know how much of those plans were either exaggerated or entirely invented, but that sounds like something he’d do. He might also have taken time to improve on local religious structures (such as at Dion), and set up something (no doubt monstrously large) at both Delphi and Olympia, as panhellenic sites.

As for the reunion with his mother and sisters, as indicated, I don’t think he was staying away to avoid Mommy Dearest. So, I expect he’d have been happy, maybe even overjoyed, to see them again.

#asks #Alexander the Great #What if Alexander had lived?#Alexander versus Carthage #Alexander versus Rome #Classics #ancient history #ancient Greece #ancient Carthage #ancient alternative history #ancient Thrace #Olympias #tagamemnon

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dsireland86 · 3 days

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MASKED PT.2 (The Part About Noah)

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@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa

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The drama continues through Noah's point of view

MASKED PT.1 (THE FOLIO PART)

So, here's the thing. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing. When my OCD is triggered, I have to fix what is messed up. I was proof reading this story last night after posting it an found so much that needed change and spent the rest of the night fixing what I hated about it.

To those who've already read through, commented, loved, or rebloged, thank you! You're the reason I keep posting here. But I recommend re-reading it because it's so much better. I fixed and changed a lot due to last minute inspiration.

Thank you, my beautiful Tumblr family. You're words, love and reblogs make me so happy that it's a little ridiculous.

Happy reading everyone!

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“Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm already dead/Cause I'm not really scared of what comes next/Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm fucked in the head/'Cause I'm not really scared of the consequence”

-HEDONIST-

Sunday: Midnight

“Look at her. She's so fucking gorgeous sitting there with her head back and mouth opened, waiting for our cum.”

“Who’s going first?” Folio asks.

I turn to him, feeling like I’m staring into a mirror. The black ski mask covers most of his face. Only his eyes and mouth are visible, with a little bit of skin showing around each. The band's white logo, the symbols of death, peace, and mind, stand out among all of the black like a scarlet letter, baring the images of sexual perversion and degradation in her mind, no doubt.

“Why don't you go first? Show me how good her mouth can fuck.” Folio nods, undoing the button of his black jeans.

I shift my gaze back to her, staring directly into her dark orbs that are wantonly awakened. The small smile, trapped in the corners of her mouth, makes the flutter in the pit of my stomach reach my cock. It twitches, throbbing with such an ache for release that I’m quickly losing my grip on my sanity. Her eyes drop, following my hand as I palm my erection hidden beneath my black stage pants. The way she stares, narrowing those beautiful eyes and clenching her jaw, makes the fire slowly burning through my veins ignite into a hot blaze. She wants this, more than I ever thought she would, leading me to think maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as I thought she did.

I want my turn with her. I want to feel her fuck me with her mouth until she’s gagging and spitting as I grip her by the hair to keep her in place. I want her to take me over the edge and make me lose control. But I need to watch first. I need to watch the way she fucks her lover, who happens to be like a brother to me, and make him cum.

It’ll be my turn after that, one of the very many I’m free to have with her just for tonight.

Saturday Morning:

God she sounds beautiful. Her cries of pleasure ring throughout the house, bouncing off every wall, ripping through the silence and replacing it with her song of sexual fulfillment that could only be given to her by one man. She’s hungry for him, begging for more of what he’s putting down and from the sounds of it, he seems to be delivering. Folio’s got it all with her and it’s my fault. I let it slip out of my hands because my ego was louder than my love and somewhere in between, the lines blurred together. It got too hard for me to tell the difference between love and lust and eventually everything just blew apart. I was blinded, too dumb to realize how she really felt about me. Now it was too late.

Motherfucker.

The lewd sounds coming from the bedroom are unsettling and I can’t help but envision the two of them tangled up in one another, doing whatever it takes to get the other off. They both sound so desperate and needy, pathetically at the mercy of the other. I chew on my lips out of a nervous habit, fighting the temptation of wanting to watch them, to see their bodies come together in ways I've only ever thought about. I want to watch Folio wear the mask as he takes her, invades her and fills her full of him. I want to watch how she responds to him, the expression on her face changing with every new thing he does to her. I want to watch her cum.

No. Shit. I want to feel her cum.

I begin to palm my swollen cock beneath the table, massaging slowly at first, but as her sounds grow louder, I unzip and take myself fully into my hand, going harder and faster in hopes of soothing the intense pressure building up. My dick is throbbing, the consistent pulsing pushing hard against my hand until finally, her sudden shrill of ecstasy rings through the deadly silence.

I release my cock right before my climax hits, slamming a clenched fist down on the table while suppressing a deep growl of dissatisfaction for not meeting my own expectations. Out of breath, heart racing, and legs trembling, I stay seated, waiting for everything to come back into focus. After a few minutes, I stand up and adjust myself, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly.

I glance down at the table. The hollow eyes of the black ski mask meet mine. Its empty stare feels like it's challenging me, daring me to go through with the idea I've had in my head for days. The mask; it knows me, because it is me. Picking it up, I slip it on and glance into the nearby mirror. It sits well on me. Just like it always does.

Turning my head left and right, I stare at the man before me, shifting my sight from the white embroidered logos of death, peace, and mind, to my eyes, dark and narrowing. What will she think when she sees me? What will she say, if anything. I think too much when it comes to her. Fuck. She really is the death of my peace of mind.

Closing my eyes, I envision the blackness of the yarn running across the pale, delicate flesh between her legs as I devour her, eating her between her luscious folds until she’s crying my name and clawing my skin. I envision my covered nose dragging along the trail of her clit, breathing in the scent of her and stopping just above her entrance to circle the delicate pink flesh that's dripping wet.

My whole body shudders. I’ve never wanted anything more than the way I want her. She's the only pleasure I want, the ecstasy I would kill for a taste of. I run my hands over the black yarn, and peer through the cracks of my fingers at the face before me.

I’ve come to loathe the sight of it. It’s a face of trouble and regret and nothing good could come from it. The reasoning behind Folio’s request two nights ago has been eating away at me. He said he's worried about her, concerned that too much of the past is hurting her more than it should be. It's my fault. All of it.

I played games with her heart and eventually she got tired of my shit. When I saw she was moving on, finding the love and attention she wanted and needed in Folio, I got pissed off, jealous that she wasn’t all about me anymore, or at least I thought she wasn’t.

So, I got drunk at a party one night and fucked some random girl in a bathroom. I thought I’d won until she walked in on the two of us right as I pulled out and came all over the back of the girl whose face I don’t even remember. I'll never forget the look on her face. It shattered my heart, burning its way into my memory forever. It scared my heart. I ran after her but then watched her run right into the arms of my best friend.

Pain. Agonizing hurt. Bitterness. All of it flooded my head, taking over every thought until I was finally honest with myself. I was in love with her, but I was too toxic for her. She didn’t deserve me. She deserved Folio. He would protect her heart; make her feel safe. He would dry her tears and hold her close, doing his best to mend the heart that I had shattered. Because of how much I hated myself, I shut them both out. At times, I think I was meaner to her than I was before I fucked everything up, yet too selfish to care about the heart I broke. I couldn’t get past my own hurt while I ignored hers

Thank god everything eventually smoothed over. The past got buried leading me to believe she got over it and moved on with Folio. But maybe I was wrong to believe that. Was she still living in the past, with hurt and pain that she never actually got over, only threw a band aid over just like I did?

Which brings me back to the reason I’m here

He’s given me permission to have a masked affair with her, but only if she’s willing. The idea is so fucked up; Folio allowing me to violate and penetrate what he’d fuck another guy up over if he touched her the way that I want to touch her. I can’t wrap my thoughts around any of it.

“Folio! Hey, I’m running over to the cafe for some breakfast. Do you want me to bring you two anything?” “Yeah, that would be great, thanks. We’re just…, we’ll be out in a few minutes.” “No rush. You two sound busy. I’ll be back in a few.”

I stand at the door for a moment, fighting the urge to open it, leaning my forehead against it and taking a deep breath before walking away. I toss the ski mask on the table as I pass by, walking right out the front door, pulling it closed behind me.

“I'm taking it slowly, you'd never know/How quick it gets lonely here at the top/Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn/The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone”

-Bad Decisions-

Sunday: Midnight

She’s confused when I grab both of her wrists and gently pull them behind her back. “What are you doing?” I can sense the alarm in her voice and it makes me grin with satisfaction.

After tying the knot around her wrists, not too tight but enough to know she can’t get out of the restraint, I lean over her shoulder and run my covered nose up the side of her neck, clenching my jaw as she leans her head back just enough for me to kiss the hollow of her throat. “I want you at my mercy while I do all the sick, perverted things I’ve been dreaming about for months, Princess.”

Her shallow whimper weakens me. I’m hard as a rock and a part of me hates it, hates her, for making me want her this much, and I hate myself for not having more self control when it comes to her. My jaw ticks with the rhythm of my pulse as I grab her by the hair, yanking her head back further and looking deep into her eyes. They skim over the mask covering my face and I catch the glimmer of desire in them. “God, Noah,” she breaths. The sound of my name slipping from her pink, luscious lips arouses me, making me more desperate than before.

“You look…” but she bites her lip instead of finishing her thought. “Don't bite your lip.” My stare is fixated on her. “Why?” “Unless you want to find yourself slammed against the wall with my hands pressed between your legs and around your throat. Do you want that?” She shakes her head as best she can. “Good. Then get on the bed and on your fucking knees for me, Princess.”

A devious smile spreads across her mouth as she willingly obeys, but not before getting swept up in a heated kiss from Folio. His skin against hers is something they’re used to seeing, but I’m not. And even though it shouldn’t, it turns me on. He whispers something in her ear and she nods, but I catch the swift move of his finger swiping up her wet pussy, noticing how her body responds to it; automatically aroused.

She looks back at me and stands on the tips of her toes. I know what she wants, so I indulge her by taking her lips by brutal force, groaning as my tongue plunges its way into her mouth and licking deep. Her response has the pre-cum slipping from the slit on my cock soaking a small spot of my briefs.

“On the bed, on your knees, and ass up, now, Princess,” I growl against her lips.

Saturday Afternoon

She’s sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with her arms folded tightly across her chest, staring down at the floor below her. A few moments ago, when she came out into the kitchen and saw me standing here, I swear if looks could kill, I’d be dead.

She fucking hates me.

Peering up, she scowls at me, eyebrows coming together to form the cutest angry face I've ever seen her make. I snicker, but she just rolls her eyes and looks away.

Shit.

But then she looks back, locking me in an intoxicating stare that’s harsh and unmerciful, and I can’t get a breath down as I drown in it. But I welcome it and all the pain that comes with it. “Hey man, are you sure she’s up for this? Have you even told her yet?” I tap Folio on the shoulder to get his attention. He shakes his head. and my brain immediately starts to freak out. “Fuck, Folio! No wonder she’s pissed. You didn’t tell her anything?” “No.” His answer is taut and quick.

“Great. She already hates that I’m breathing. This idea is likely to cause her to drive a knife through my chest! I thought we already talked about this the other night!” “Will you stop being so damn dramatic, Noah! Chill, dude!” he says, raising his voice. Folio may be smaller than me, but he’s feisty as hell. And when he raises his voice in a certain tone, one knows he’s serious. It’s obvious to me he’s pretty fucking serious right now.

“Look, you think whatever you want to, okay, Noah? But I know my girl, like I know my kit and my Harley, alright? Yeah, she’s still kinda angry about the past, but not enough that she wants you dead or anything close to that. But you two have shit you need to work out. It’s been too fucking long that the hostility and weirdness between the two of you has been going on."

I scowl, completely caught off guard .

"You’re not the only ones it’s affecting, Noah. It’s killing me, and both of you keep beating around the fucking bush, meeting on the one side, only to turn around, avoid each other, then meet on the other side, again. It’s ridiculous and it has to stop. All the bickering, the awkwardness when we’re all together and the fact that neither of you can be left in the same room together without fighting, is starting to piss all of us off. Not to mention the fights she and I are starting to have, but that’s besides the point.”

I frown in confusion. “Fights? You two are fighting? Folio,” “Don’t, Noah. Our relationship is not your business.” Folio rubs his jawline. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head over thinking there is no way any of this is going to work. But Nick’s right about one thing. She and I do have shit to get over. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing I say or do will ever make things right between us.

“There is no way she’s going for this, Nick. There’s no chance in hell she’ll even let me near her let alone… allow me to touch her.” Those last words hit my heart hard. "All I’ve wanted for months is to just hold her and tell her I’m sorry, but we can’t even be in the same room together for too long. I'm actually surprised we've lasted this long." “Well, something's keeping her here. She hasn't gotten mad at you yet." “That’s because you’re here,” I scoff.

Folio growls in frustration “Noah, listen to me,” he orders, clearly annoyed. “Ever since the night of that party, I’ve had to watch her beat herself up over and over again, trying to put the broken pieces of her heart back together. I’ve done what I can to help her, but there’s a piece that’s missing. I see the way it’s affecting her and she doesn’t even realize it.

“Okay, so what does any of this have to do with me and her?” Folio rolled his eyes. “God, you're so freaking dumb sometimes, dude. You're the piece, Noah! Shit! You've always been the piece.” “What…what do you mean “I’m the piece”,” I stammer.

Folio sighs, removes his hat to run his hands through his hair, then puts it back on, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling it quickly. “There are nights when she's asleep that I hear her say your name. It's never dramatic, nothing sexual. Just simple. Sweet. For some damn reason, you still mean so much to her, Noah. I can’t, for the life of me, understand why. I mean, it was bad enough when you took your shit out on me, hating me and whatever, but the way you treated her, when she wasn’t even the one who did anything wrong, dude… you fucked her up pretty good. The games you played with her mind, Noah… you don’t even know man.”

Folio shakes his head, turning away from me. “So that’s what this is all about? Closure? Tying up loose ends?” I grumble. “More like you taking responsibility and owning up to what you did. Admit to her the truth so she can stop feeling like shit about all of it.” “I only did what I did because she dropped me like a bad fucking habit, Nick, and moved on to you! Fuck!”

I run both hands through my hair, pulling at the roots with frustration from all this insanity. “You were even between her legs that night, man! I heard the two of you. So, don't preach to me about how bad I hurt her! She didn't fucking care about me.” “Really, Noah! That’s how you justify it? When are you going to understand that she only gave up waiting for you? She didn’t give up on you. She only came to me, falling into my arms that night, because she caught you fucking another girl after she spent countless days, weeks, hell even months, trying to show you that she wanted you. Don't you dare say she didn't care about you! She cared way too much for you! You shattered her heart for no good fucking reason other than your ego was wounded. She tried showing you, Noah. She tried telling you that she wanted you, but you ignored her. You played sick mind games with her. You know you made this mess, and now I’m telling you, you’re going to fix it. I’m give you the fucking chance to fix it!”

I bite my tongue, holding back all the things I want to say but know I shouldn’t. Folio is right about everything, but for some reason I can’t let go of wanting her to accept the blame for what she did to me when she moved on so quickly with my best friend.

“What chance are you giving him, Nick?”

Her voice startles both of us. Folio looks at me eyes wide and full of regret. This wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. She hops down off the counter and comes over to us, walking right past me like I’m a ghost. Her persistence in ignoring me pricks my heart. Folio throws his hands on his head, messing with his hat nervously. I need to be the one to handle this. I’ve caused my brother enough grief.

“A chance to fix the past. A masked affair, Princess,” blurting out just as Folio opens his mouth to speak. Slowly, she turns and looks at me. “I’m sorry, what?” There’s no mistaking the surprise in her voice.

“A masked affair. You do know what an affair is, right?” “Yeah, Noah, I know what it is,” she states, clearly irritated. Ohhh, she’s getting pissy with me. It won’t be long now before the two of us are arguing. “Good,” I grin, taking a step closer towards her only for her to take a step back, but she doesn’t turn and leave like she normally does when I make her mad. My eyes quickly snap up to hers, locking them in a heated stare; one that's instigating my inner depravity.

I feel that familiar feeling I get every time she and I start to fight, but this time, there’s something more to it; a certain tension that was never there before, drawing the two of us together. And the fact that she’s not running from me this time, is alarming. “Then, maybe you can show me if that mouth is good for something else other than sarcasm.” There’s a fire that ignites in her eyes and it makes my heart slam into my chest like a fist to a punching bag. Every beat of it bridges the gap between us.

“Excuse me!” “Holy shit!” Folio utters. “Noah, what the fuck?” “What?” “A bit much, don’t you think?” I laugh. “Not enough.” She stares at me and Folio, her narrow eyes darting back and forth between us. “Okay, one of you better tell me what the hell is going on, right now.“ “I will if you come here.”

“No! Not a chance, Noah,” she snaps. I clench my teeth, tossing my head from side to side to relieve the tension. Her unwillingness to submit to me only turns me on even more. I guess it’s time to get dirty. “Alright, let's try this again, Princess. And if you get pissy with me again, I’ll make you sorry for that mouth. Now, come here,” I demand, raising an eyebrow. Folio is quiet, unsure if he should interject or not.

At first she just stands there, seemingly unsure about where this is all coming from and where it could possibly be going, making me think she’s not going to do as I told her, but then she surprises me by taking a few awkward steps towards me. “That’s better. Now, look at me.” I expect to find a lot of angst when she does, but instead I find tears and it rips my heart apart. I did this to her. I caused her pain. And as I wipe the tears away that slide down her cheeks, surprised she doesn't pull away, I can no longer control my need to kiss her. I have to fucking kiss her.

With one hand, I gather the back of her hair and gently yank her head back, hearing a soft whimper fall under her breath and use my other hand to wrap around her throat. Licking my dry lips, I glance over her sweet face and in an instant our lips crash together in such a heated kiss that it could set the place on fire. My lips glide over hers as I kiss the corners of her mouth, slowly dragging my tongue to the middle of her lips and biting down. The second she gasps, I slide my tongue through her parted lips and stroke hers, massaging it the same way I know I’m going to massage her pussy later.

Her hands gather the sides of my shirt, unexpectedly pulling me closer and causing me to stagger like a drunk man. But then she pulls away and the sudden loss of her lips is torture. “I hate you,” she sneers, pulling herself out of my grip and shoving me away from her. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling, proof I've kissed her well, and her cheeks are covered with a pretty shade of a deep pink flush. Her aggression towards me is intoxicatingly hot and all I want to do now is grab her by the hair again, bend her over and fuck her senselessly until her moans turn into screams for me.

“You hate me, huh,” I echo her claim. “Yes,” she spits. “I hate you.” I fight the urge to kiss her again. “Why?” “You know why, Noah. Don’t make me say it.” “Maybe I do know,” stepping closer, “but maybe I want to hear you say it. Tell me why you hate me.” I grab her wrists and she gasps. Our bodies are almost touching again and I can feel her warmth radiating onto me. This is the closest I’ve been to her in months.

I forgot how beautiful she is. Her freckles, her brown eyes, her laughter lines, all of it makes me ache with misery over what I did to her and what it cost me. “I don’t want to. You already know,” she accuses. But I won’t accept her answer. “Please, tell me. I need you to tell me, Princess,” My plea comes out as a whisper only she can hear and I know I’ve let my guard down too far when the hard glare in her eyes softens and so does her resistance against me.

My heart is pounding, feeling like it might explode out of my chest, because of how vulnerable I’ve just made myself. “Because you were cruel to me Noah. You broke my heart and you didn't even care.” And there it is. There’s the fucking slap to the face, the punch to the gut, the salt to the wound that I've been waiting for; the one I deserve. She closes her eyes and more tears spill out, running down her face and smearing the faint traces of her makeup.

The amount of rage that swells inside me is enough to flatten an entire city. It’s not just rage for the shit I did, but she did as well. The way she crawled into Folio’s bed and allowed him between her legs when she didn’t get what she wanted from me, or pushed me away the many times I tried to apologize to her. No, she wasn’t the only victim here. We both were. But if there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of now it’s that she doesn’t hate me. She only thinks she does. And I’ll convince her she doesn't once I’m between her legs, buried deep inside her and showing her how much I ache for her just like I know she aches for me.

“I cared, baby. I cared more than you'll ever know.” She looks at me confused. “Then why didn't you,” “Why didn't I tell you? I tried. But you were so focused on your hurt and getting fucked by my best friend that you didn’t notice.” A look of shock sweeps across her face. “I heard the two of you that night and every night after. And I saw you, too, one night by the pool. You were wearing that little red one piece that hugs your body so well. I watched Folio rip it off you and fuck you against the concrete before yanking you into the water where he made you cum.” Her face is flushed , bringing out the pretty shade of red on her cheeks.

“And then there was the night he fucked you on the kitchen counter before bending you over the table and plowing into, making you scream. God, he was a fucking beast to you that night. I got so mad that he was that rough with you.” I caressed her face, wiping away her tears. “I cared, baby. You just didn't give me the chance to tell you." She was so quiet, fighting hard to get control of her emotions.

“Noah, I’m,” I capture her lips in mine, silencing her apology before she even gets those stupid, goddamn words out, the same ones I've been needing to hear after all this time. But now that I'm about to, I don't need her to say she's sorry. I just want her to not hurt anymore. “Don't,” I shake my head. “You don't need to,” I pause, clenching my teeth and taking a deep breath through my nose. “You don't hate me, Princess.” My cock is burning erratically, throbbing recklessly to the point that it’s maddening.

I yank her head back by the hair again as my hand reclaims its place around her neck, rubbing my thumb along her jawline and disarming her from anything she’s about to say next. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and she tries to swallow, making the small bump of her Adam's apple enticing enough to eat; and that’s what I do.

Without hesitating, I lean down and take a bite, biting down lightly but with enough force so she knows I’m the one in control. She cries out softly, wrenching down on my shoulders, and digging her nails into my skin. I hiss beneath the bite, sucking the spit up before turning the bite into a pretty reddish bruise. Grazing the skin of her throat with my teeth, I turn the biting and sucking into a kiss.

The loud gasp she makes as I breathe in her scent, penetrates my veins and crawls its way to my memory and I hum in approval as I taste her salty skin on my tongue feeling the subtle yet powerful whimpered moan that escapes her vibrate against my lips. My cock twitches just enough for her to feel it against her belly.

“Noah,” she whispers my name as I suck the skin of her neck some more, leaving faint little marks behind, claiming her as mine now; even if it’s only for tonight. Her hands snake around my neck, depending on my strength alone to hold her up. “You know what I hate?” I growl, lifting my head to face her, kissing her lips before continuing. “I fucking hate the way Folio touches you,” I say, the distaste of the idea clear in my tone. Folio takes a few steps towards us. The man’s on the edge of his seat and I couldn’t be happier. I run my nose up and down her skin, turning her head and breathing her in on every side.

“I can't stand how he looks at you, how he makes you his with every scream, every moan that you make when he fucks up into you,” sneering through clenched teeth, tightening the grip I have on her. She swallows hard, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes again when I lift my head to look at her. “I heard you this morning, too, Princess. I was sitting at the table, wearing the black mask, envisioning I was the one fucking you while getting my self off. I almost did. And that fucking fantastic moment you came for Folio, all over his face,” I smile, kissing her again, “god, I can’t explain to you the way it made me feel. I envy Folio. I envy everything he has with you, because it should be mine.”

Her eyes dart back and forth as she’s holding her breath. I'm under her skin now, making my way quickly into her veins. It’s just a matter of moments before she gives in to me. “You sounded so fucking beautiful. The way he fucked you must have been satisfying. Was it?” I caress the side of her face with the back of my fingers, leaning down and kissing her cheek.

“I bet I can make you cum harder, though. What do you think, huh?” She whimpers, making the fire in my abdomen ignite and I feel the wetness of my underwear against my erection. Fuck. Taking a shaky breath, I run my hand over her neck, releasing my grip for a moment to lean down and take her lips with mine, this time forcing my tongue into her mouth. At first she fights with me, but then I feel hers run over mine, allowing me to meet hers and together, our tongues dance. My knees grow weak. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this game up.

“God, you have no idea how much I fucking want you! The thoughts that I have about how I want to fuck you and punish you for letting another man put his hands on you. How much I want to strip you naked and pound into that sweetly soaked pussy of yours that you allow Folio to fuck whenever he wants,” I growl against her mouth as she releases a needy moan. “Noah,” she whines. I slip my hand under her shirt just to graze the skin beneath the waistband of her shorts. I can tell her nerves are on fire from the way goosebumps prickle her skin. “I want it, Princess. I want all of you, but can’t have it,”

She closes her eyes briefly as more tears slip out from the corners of her eyes. “Noah,” she softly whines again, letting her hands fall to my shoulders. “Not until you say I can.” She gasps, blinking a few times. Without saying another word, I turn her head and run my nose, lips and tongue up the side of her neck, taking the bottom lobe of her ear between my teeth and suck on it before pulling away. The whimper she gives me makes my cock ache deeply. “Fuck, Princess, I wanna ruin you, damage you inside and out until all you know is the shape of my cock,” I mumble, nipping and kissing her neck some more. She’s wrecked from my words alone.

I smile at knowing I’ve won. “I'm done waiting,” I tell her harshly, laying my forehead against hers. “Waiting for what?” she questions, her voice quivering. “To get what I want, Princess.” She swallows hard. “And what do you want, Noah?” she softly asks.

“I want you. I want your sex, I want your taste in my mouth. I want your cum on my cock. I want you to let me fuck you, to sink my dick so far into you, hitting that spot that’ll have you screaming until your voice is hoarse and I break you and make you feel empty when I'm done. I want to ruin you and make you take what I give you until you’re begging for more, never satisfied until you can feel me in every single cell of your body for days. I want you, Princess. Every single part of you.”

I release her but she makes no attempt to separate us. Her hands have left my shoulders, standing fully on her feet now, but I can still feel her grip on them. Her chest is quickly rising and falling. She’s fighting all the thoughts running through her mind, including the ones I’ve planted. She’s going to tell me no. I can feel it. I can see it in the look on her face. I brace myself for the let down.

“Fine,” she says, in a voice sure and strong. I grin, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. I’ve won. “See, you don’t hate me. You do like me.” Her jaw clenches.” “And you know you want me.” She looks away. “Dammit, Princess , why can you just admit the truth? Why do you keep lying to yourself?” When she doesn’t answer, Folio steps in between us, looking only at her. “Tell him, Sweetheart. Tell Noah the truth. I'll be okay, I promise. I know you love me.” “I'm in love with you, Nick, you’re my world,” she cries as more tears trickle down her cheeks. Folio smiles softly at her.

“I know that too, baby. It's okay. Just tell him the truth,” he encourages her. Her eyes meet mine. I can’t read them. There’s too many mixed emotions. “You want me to say it? Fine, I'll say it. I fucking hate your guts Noah Sebastian. I hate everything about you; the way you look, the way you smile, the way you laugh,” she pauses and steps closer to me. “I hate the way you make me feel; so helpless, so weak. And, hate… fuck! I hate the way I fucking love you, Noah. I hate that I want you! Are you happy? I fucking want you.”

My heart explodes inside me, leaving me feeling like I’ve won everything, but lost it all at the same time. She loves me. She wants me. But I can’t keep her… I can’t keep her. So if I can’t keep her, then I need to make sure I leave enough scars for her to remember what happens here tonight. I will ruin her. I’ll damage her so she won’t forget about us, forget about me and that for one night, she was mine.

“No way to right these wrongs/Either way, I'm feeling, it might just cost /something in the millions/I know that I can't resist/You know I can't just stop”

-Somebody Else-

Saturday Evening:

“Are you sure you're okay with this, Sweetheart,” Folio asks her, removing her shirt and tossing it on the floor. His pupils instantly darken at seeing her small breasts covered by the black cotton bra. I should have known she was nothing fancy. Simple and basic; one hundred percent her and I couldn’t love it more. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down, revealing her matching panties, and tosses them over with the shirt. Both of them are silent as he stands there admiring her.

I grin at seeing her cheeks redden. “Nick, are you okay,” she asks sweetly. He nods and caresses her cheek. “Then why are you staring at me like that?” “Because, I love you and I love seeing you naked.” She giggles. “Well, technically, I’m not naked yet.” “Yeah, well give me two seconds and you will be!” Folio tackles her, grabbing her sides and making her squeal in delight. He puts her down, looking over at me. “You’re positive you want to do this?” he asks her, hesitatingly. “This was your idea, remember?” She slides her hands up his chest, running her fingers over his chin. "God, why are you so freaking cute?" Folio smiles, chuckling lightly.

He kisses her on the lips, holding her around the waist, closely. She doesn't let him go, but instead pulls him closer to her with their lips still locked tightly together, leading them over to the couch where she lowers herself down and spreading her legs wide open, running her hand over her covered pussy. She looks at me as she does it and I I groan, low and deep in my chest, biting the inside of my cheek. My cock is already so fucking hard, aching with the need to release. I grab it, rubbing it slightly to help ease the feeling, but it doesn’t help.

“Fuck, baby,” Folio mutters, lowering himself down closer to her, bracing himself with one hand against the back of the couch while the other is trailing up the side of her neck and over her lips. “I want you too, Nick,” she says loud enough for me to hear. “I can’t let Noah have what he wants without you getting it too. I need to please you both.”

“Holy shit,” Folio laughs, grinning wildly as he rubs his crotch against her knee. There's no way she's implying what I think she's implying, but I ask anyway. “What are you saying, Princess? You want a threesome?” Folio looks from her to me and then back to her, waiting for her to answer, completely unsure if her heard me right. “Well, I don’t want you two to do anything, I just want you both to have me. I want to please both of you.” Folio looks over at me again, shaking his head slowly. His eyes are wide, proof of how surprised he is by her request. "Well?" “I’m game if you are,” he agrees. I look at her and watch the way her fingers wander purposely over her pussy, causing my heart to pound against my chest. It’s enough for me. “Fuck it. Fine, Princess. You can have us both.”

She smiles, licks her bottom lip, and turns back to Folio, reaching up to undo his belt. But before she follows through, she stops. “The mask." Her eyes light up. "What about it," he says quietly, dragging his finger down between her breasts. "You told me you brought it with you. If this is a masked affair then you need to play your part, too. Put the mask on for me, Nicky, please.” A wide grin spreads over his face. “You want me to wear the mask? You wanna fuck like we did at home the last time I wore it?” She nods her head, shyly, slipping the tip of her finger in between her teeth. Seeing it makes my heart race. The urgency of how much I'm needing her is disgusting, but I welcome it.

Folio leaves her, going over to his bag to retrieve the mask, and stares at me as he walks by. God, I hope this doesn’t turn into a fucking competition. When he returns to her, slipping the mask on as he stands before her, her hands return to his belt and continues their task of unbuckling it. “Is this better?” She grins approvingly and nods. She looks over at me, take a long breath as he pushes her black panties to the side and immediately slips his fingers inside her. The moan that escapes her goes straight to my cock, making the muscles in my abdomen tighten.

Holy fuck.

Inching closer to them, slipping my mask on and hiding behind the safety of the my alter ego, I focus on Folio as he works his finger deeper inside her walls, pulling small cries and whimpers from her. Her eyes are closed, focusing hard on the connection between her orgasm and Folio's fingers. Each one of her needy moans echo through the room, bouncing off the walls and into the deep caverns of my brain where I commit them to memory. Seeing the way Folio intently feels her, fucking her slowly but aggressively is almost too much. It's turning me on too much and I feel like I might cum just from watching them. I palm my swollen cock, groaning as I shift it beneath the confines of my pants, I focus my thoughts on the two of them instead of my need to cum, but it's impossible. The two go hand in hand at this point.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, Folio hums, licking his lips. "You're so fucking wet. Look how coated my fingers are,” he groans, pulling them out to show her how her arousal glistens on his fingers. "Nick," she moans, breathlessly as he takes them in his mouth and licks the taste of her. "Open," he commands her, and she listens, opening her mouth just enough for him to insert his two fingers inside her mouth. Her lips seal around them and she proceeds to suck them. She runs the side of her tongue against them, making Folio, curse an growl loudly.

"Holy fuck, what are you trying to accomplish, baby?" he laughs nervously. She pulls him down to her lips and kisses him, and they put their tongues on full display, lapping and sucking, beneath a heated kiss. His fingers find her pussy again and he slips inside her, coating his fingers in her juices again, no doubt. I'm a fucking mess, consumed by a desperate lust to claim her body. I give up fighting and fully give into the need for the filthy dabauchery overtaking every thought that's crossing my mind.

“Are you this wet just for me or for him too?” Folio asks her, grinding his cock on her thigh as he braces himself against the couch while thrusting up inside mer. “Both,” she admits quickly and honestly. Folio’s head lowers, and he releases a deep grunt, overtaking her lips again. “If I wasn’t so turned on by it, I’d be fucking pissed,” he admits. Pulling his fingers out, he rips her panties off, purposely throwing them at my feet. I look up into the face of my mirror image, disgusted by the smug grin on his face.

"Fuck you, Folio," I mumble. His mouth twitches an he gives me a lop-sided grin. But as soon as he turns away, I snatch the panties and shove them into my pocket.

Keeping his eyes focused on her, she gasps loudly the moment Folio thrusts his fingers back inside her more violently than before. He doesn’t give her time to react as he slams his lips into her and they take a moment to devour each other again. I groan, toss my head back, and palm myself again, trying to alleviate the growing pressure that’s rapidly building.

“Oh god, baby, that feels so good,” she moans, arching her back and bucking her hips while reaching for Folio. He comes back into her embrace, kissing her and praising her while giving her what she wants with just his fingers. “I know you like this, baby, but I’m dying to taste you,” he mumbles against her lips. “I wanna eat you and make you cum on my tongue, just like I did this morning,” he grins, pulling his fingers out of her one more time.

My heart is racing over what I’m about to see. Folio glances over at me, checking to see if I'm still watching, and once he's satisfied, he turns back to her “Noah’s watching, baby. You got to show him how good I can make you cum, show him who owns this sweet pussy of yours." She sighs, as he places gentle kisses on her belly. "Tease him sweetheart. Make him want you." Folio inches his way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. She places her hands on either side of head, guiding him along her body, tangling her fingers in his hair once he finds her clit.

She allows her legs to fall wide open, revealing that sweet, decadent spot of hers that is the center of all her pleasure. My jaw drops at the sight of it. It's pink, wet and so fucking beautiful. I lick my lips, parting them in desperation to feel it beneath my tongue.

The feeling is too much. I need to get off from watching this. It's the only thing that will satisfy me. Like an addict craving his addiction, I quickly undo the strings to my pants, freeing my hard swollen shaft, I pump it a few times, sighing loudly as a copious amount of precum coats my fingers, creating the perfect lubricant for what I'm about to do. I run my hand over the tip, letting my head fall back, the moment I see Folio dive in fully masked, sliding his tongue up her slit, sucking her clit, slowly.

Her breath catches in the back of her throat, arching her back the moment Folio take her swollen bud between his teeth and flicks it with the tip of his tongue. She cries out, moaning his name like a prayer grinding her cunt against his face in a desperate attempt to feel more.

This is so fucking wrong, watching them like own personal porno, I can't pry my eyes away. I don't want to, honestly. The feeling rushing through my veins is unlike anything other feeling I've ever felt. "Oh, fuck," I moan, taking my balls in my hand and rubbing them around in my hand. My legs are trembling as they try to hold my weight up, biting back moans that are desperately trying to escape.

My heart’s pounding in my chest. I can’t suppress the arousal building in me or how good it feels sliding my hands in and out over my erection. I want to cum so badly, but not yet. “Oh fuck, Noah!” I raise my head only to find her staring at me. She's grinning in surprise, while pushing Folio's face harder into core. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now.” My heart pounds against my chest from both arousal and excitement. “Yeah? Is this doing something for you, watching me get myself off while your boyfriend eats you out?" "Mmmhmm, yeah is does," she moans, licking her lips and furrowing her brows. "Does it make you want to cum hard, baby? Do you want to cum for just Folio or for me too?"

Her pants are becoming more erratic, her chest heaving in and out faster. "I want to cum for both of you," she whines. "I want, I, oh fuck baby," she moans, running her hands over the back Folio's head , fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling it. “Good fucking god," I breath, releasing an unrestrained moan. Folio stops and looks over at me. His mouth is soaked and so is the part of the mask where his nose is.

“Like what you see, brother?” he asks, voice deep and raspy. “She tastes fucking amazing,” he informs me, looking up at her. He kisses the insides of her thighs before she pushes him back into his place between her legs, where he dives right back in, devouring her. "Nick, baby, I'm so close." "I know you are. I can feel how tight you are," he says, laying his hand on her abdomen. "You're clenching around my tongue. I need you to cum for me, Sweetheart."

Folio inserts his fingers inside her again, thrusting in and out while licking and swallowing up her juices. "Nick, I'm about to cum, baby. Shit," she moans, breathing erratically. Her thighs tighten around Folio's the moment her orgasm hits her, making her swear, while crying out Folio's name. "Don't stop, baby, she pants, holding him in place as she cums in his mouth like he wanted her too. I clench my teeth and groan, right before releasing my cum and spilling all over my hand and the floor.

“Goddammit,” I hiss, dropping to my knees, completely out of breath. "Fuck me, motherfucker!"

I’ve never made myself cum that hard before. When I look over at them, Folio is wiping his face and she’s watching me with an alluring look that I never thought I’d see in her eyes.

“That was so fucking hot, Sebastian,” she confesses with a grin. I’m still trying to catch my breath, but manage a light chuck as Folio tosses the towel at me.

“Look at her. She's so fucking gorgeous sitting there with her head back and mouth opened, waiting for our cum.”

I stroke her face, humming in approval when she leans into my touch. The sight of her on her knees before the two of us, with her hands tied behind her back and wearing nothing but her black bra is a sight to behold; one that I'd been dying to see since the day I first met her. “Who’s going first?” Folio asks. “Why don't you go first? Show me how good her mouth can fuck.” Folio nods, undoing the button of his black jeans and stepping out of them.

I caress her face as she looks up at me. I stare at her, wondering what the hell I was thinking when I made the choices that I did. What made me think I could find anything better than her. Folio steps up beside me wearing nothing but the black ski mask with eyes focused solely on his girl who’s about to give him what we're craving. Her face is flushed with a shade of light pink covering her cheeks and the way she licks her lips when Folio moves closer to her has my head running in circles.

Without hesitating, she takes him in her mouth, a little bit a first and then sliding down the whole length of his shaft, completely absorbing him. Folio throws his head back in complete ecstasy as she begins to suck his cock, glancing over at me with a grin. “She’s that good?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off her and the way her tongue slides up and down the back of his shaft. “Yeah, she’s that fucking good,” Folio growls. His hand lowers to her head as he brushes the loose hair out of her face. “Fuck me, baby, god dang,” he sighs. Slowly, he starts degradingly and savagely fucking her mouth, holding the base of it so she can take all of him until she's deep throating him. She gags when it hits the back of her throat, causing excess saliva to seep out and trickle down her chin.

Reaching down, I can't help but squeeze my cock again as I imagine her on her knees before me, and those red lips wrapped around my dick. Folio grabs her by the hair and holds her in place, picking up the pace of fucking her mouth, aiming to get the satisfaction he wants from her. The room is filled with her loud muffled moans and Folio’s harsh grunts and words of praise that have her in tears. “That’s it baby girl, take it all. Fuck my cock, just like that,” he growls, watching her intently. “Use your teeth, baby.” He hisses, releasing a feral grunt. “Drag them down my cock. God...damn, yeah that’s it baby, like that, he praises through endless pants. He pounds into her mouth releasing a string of curses. “You like it, I know you do. You love it when I fuck your mouth like this."

It's not much long that his thrusts start to grow sloppy and weak, signaling he’s nearing the edge. “Baby girl, you're making me cum," he moans. His thrusts grow shorter and softer. “Shit, shit, fuck baby, don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna cum, fuck!” he yells again before pulling out of her mouth and spilling his cum all over her breasts and thighs.

“Ughh, fuck baby,” Folio pants, bracing himself against her shoulder. She’s spent for the moment. Her head hangs low while her body collapses. “I’ll get a towel.” “Leave it,” I order Folio. "I love the sight of her so fucking wrecked." I slip out of my pants and briefs and shamelessly stand before as she slowly raises her head and looks at me, following her eyes as they rake over my body. The soaking up the the ink covering my skin and I don't miss the way the corners of her mouth slightly turn up and her tongue passes over her lips like she knows she's about to taste something delicious. What I’m about to give her will leave a bitter craving in her mouth that she’ll never be able to get enough of. “Look at me,” I order, pulling her head up by the hair with one hand while the other one pumps my shaft.

The look in her eyes is mesmerizing. It's soft yet strong and intoxicating making me feel like I could drown in her very existence. "My turn, Princess." "You're turn Sebastian," she echo's swallowing hard. Carefully, I drag my eyes over her face, studying her features and seeing things about her I never have before. "How did are you so beautiful?" My forehead creases. "How did you get so gorgeous?" I can't help but snicker, making her smile. "I've always loved your smile," tracing her lips with my thumb. "I've always loved your eyes." Now I'm the one smiling.

I lean down and kiss her, surprised when I feel her kiss me back. "So you do like what you see, don't you?” She remains quiet, but her expression is very readable. “Yeah, you do. I know you do,” I grin. “Does the mask make you wet, pretty girl? Does it make the inside of your thighs shake and your pussy clench at the thought of me spreading you open wide and taking you, giving you all of me, right down to the very base of my cock.”

"Jesus, Noah," she groans, swallowing hard again. I shake my head. "No baby. His face might be on my back, but it's me whose in your presence now. I can be your god if you want though," I tease her. The quiet little whimpers that leave her are enough for me. "Worship me, Princess. And I promise you when I claim your sweet pussy as mine, I'll worship it and make you feel like a queen." A strained cry leaves her.

I message my cock, milking as much pre-cum out of it as I can, letting it seep onto my fingers. “Open up,” I order her, bringing my fingers to her mouth, and she obeys immediately, allowing me to slip my fingers in. I watch in awe as she sucks them, using her tongue to scrap herself off my skin and swallow. "What the fuck," I mutter, shaking my head. "You’re such a fucking tease,” humming so low it comes out in almost a growl. “Alright, Princess,” I say giving my shaft a few quick pumps, as I stand over of her.

“If you can use that sweet mouth of yours to suck my fingers then I’m going to use it to fuck my cock until my cum is hitting you in the back of throat and dripping down your chin," bringing my hand to the back of her head. She looks up at me and leans in, closing her eyes the moment her lips part around my cock and she slowly begins to sink down on it, taking me gently in her mouth. Her tongue glides down the backside of it, and I sigh, throwing my hands to my face.

“Oh fucking god,” I gasp. My eyes flutter closed over the sensation her mouth brings me and I bite my knuckle, choking back so many moans as she works her tongue fearlessly against my cock, giving the veins and grooves plenty of attention. Glancing down, our eyes meet. Her deep, magnet stare pierces the armor on my heart, and straight away I’m feeling things for her that I never did before. My stomach tightens, every muscle in my body tenses. My breathing grows shaky and it suddenly feels like the room is spinning.

“Yeah, just like that,” I say on an exhale, watching her parted lips slide up and down my cock. I’m engulfed in a wet heat that keeps growing the more she sucks and hollows out her cheeks, urging me to force her head down closer to the base of my shaft. She swirls and circles it with her tongue, flicking the tip and sucking the pre-cum that seeps out. “Holy shit, baby,” I gasp, pulling back from her mouth a bit. But my eyes remain fixed on her, loving the way she closes her eyes and hums as she works my dick, sucking and taking care of me.

“Ughh, you look so fucking beautiful with my cock in you mouth. You feel so damn good, god!” I praise her through clenched teeth. My hands move around and cup her face then snake to the back of her head again, entangling my fingers in her hair. I'm ready to use her in the most degrading way possible to get what I want.

“Fuck, baby, I need more. Suck me harder, baby, faster. That's it!" My pace is suddenly brutal as I pound into her mouth. The fact that her hands are tied together and can’t touch me makes me have to work twice as hard and be aggressive with her in order to get what I want.

“That’s it, god, fuck yes take it all baby, take it all,” moaning loudly and pressing deeper into her mouth. The tip of my cock hits the back of her throat and she gags, but I don't stop. I keep thrusting in and out of her mouth, keeping her right where I want her until I can hear her choked moans. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby, allowing me and Folio to do this to you. But you like it don’t you? Huh?” She gags again, saliva once again, sliding down her chin and dripping on her thighs.

“Fuck yeah you do. You like to get fucked rough don’t you? You like it when I degrade you and make you feel dirty, don’t you?” I growl, panting from the burning tension building up inside me. She’s in tears, makeup running down her face and looking absolutely fucked out of her mind. “Shit, I’m not going to last much longer!” I mutter, holding her face close to my cock, pushing her harder against me. With each thrust, I feel myself flex against her tongue. I’m almost there. “Harder baby, suck it harder. Just like that! Yeah, god yes. Make me cum for you, Princess. Show me how much you want it.”

I can’t breath, can’t concentrate on anything other but her hungry mouth fucking my cock. “Baby, fuck, I can’t,” my voice is husky and strained. I look back down at her and at the sight of her hollowed, tear stained cheeks below. The sight of her is fucking perfect, just what I want. With a loud groan and one more hard thrust into her mouth, I explode a hot wave of cum inside her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, no doubt. My hips jerk violently as she continues to suck, swallowing every drop.

“Shit baby, swallow me!” I cry out, panting heavily, I release my grip on her hair and pull out of her mouth as she slumps over where she’s kneeling. My heart is racing wildly in my chest and I feel a mixture of pain and pleasure pulsing through me.

“Fuck Noah! What the fuck was that?” Folio scolds me, kneeling down before her. He lifts her head, wiping her mouth with his shirt. “That,” I pant while adjusting the mask, “that was the best fucking head I’ve ever had, Folio! If that’s what she gives you every time….fuck man.” Looking at her, I'm starting to think maybe I went a little too far, that maybe I was wrong about being so forceful. “Princess, are you alright?” I ask as Folio helps her up off the floor.

Her hesitation makes me worry, bringing those feelings from before back into play. I hurt her. Again, but physically this time. I just wanted to feel her on me, but never hurt her. “I’m good,” she admits, raising her face to look at me, but I don't believe her for one second. Her makeup is smeared, traces of it running down her face or smudged around her eyes. But she's still so unbelievably beautiful. “I just want to shower.”

“We’re not done yet, you know that, right?” She smiles as Folio undoes her restraints. “Of course we’re not. You promised to do sick, perverted things to me, remember?” She grins like the devil himself, following Folio into the bathroom, leaving me to myself with her last words hanging in the air like heavy rain clouds right before the storm.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

“That's it, lose yourself in me baby,” I coax her, slipping a finger inside her, salivating over how wet and warm she is. “Oh my god, Noah,” she pants and cries out beneath me. Her legs are wide open for me as she grinds her wet cunt hard against my hand while my fingers are trapped inside her, fucking her walls and feeling how they clench then loosen around them. If she feels this fucking good on my fingers I can’t even imagine what she’ll feel like wrapped around my cock.

Folio is standing beside me watching intently as I penetrate his girl with one of my long tattoo fingers, reaching places inside he never can. “Oh fuck, Noah,” she whimpers, bucking her hips. “Don't stop, please. That, right there,” she moans. “Yeah, is that the spot, Princess?” I add another finger, and thrust in and up, and she cries out, grabbing my wrist. “Yeah that's the spot, isn't it Folio?” I peer up at him and he just watches in eagerness. He's glued to the way she's moaning and working herself against my fingers. “It's different on that end isn't it?”

Folio clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth. “Really fucking different. Shit,” he agrees, balling his hands into tight fists. Her fingers find her clit and, without shame, she begins to rub it in a weak attempt to get herself off. “No, move your hand,” I growl, pushing it away, frustrated with her for wanting to deny me the gratification. But she grabs my fingers, hooking her hand around my wrist. “If you want me to cum, then use your mouth, Noah. I want to watch you eat me.”

Her eyes shift over to Folio and I don't miss how enthralled he is. “You're enjoying this way too much," he tells her. "Are you jealous, Nicky?" Folio raises his brows in surprise. "Maybe I am. I've watched another man invade your body enough already." Her expression softens. Arching her head back to capture him in a slow, soft kiss, she smiles weakly. “I remember one time you said you would love to be on the other end, watching someone else pleasure me.” He tries to hide his embarrassed grin. “I did say that, didn't I?”

“Yeah, you did,” running her finger down his black mask covered cheek then turning her attention back to me. I stare at her blankly through the eye holes of my own mask, wondering just where in the hell this new found confidence she's showing has come from. “You heard me,” she says, to me, voice thick with authority. I swallow hard. “Tell me again, Princess. Tell me what you want me to do.” My eyes are glued to hers and suddenly I’m starving for her, yearning to taste her.

She sits up, bringing her partially covered breasts closer to my face. I can smell the faint scent of Folio's release from earlier, as she protrudes them out a little more for my eyes to glimpse. My mouth waters, looking at the soft, plum flesh and I envision what they'll look like once I remove their cover. I slip my tongue between my lips, thinking about how they taste, fighting the urge to slip a finger down the warm little valley between her two small breasts. She raises my face to look at her. “Eyes up her, Sebastian,” she smirks.

“Last name basis now? You keep calling me by my last name,” I grumble, looking down below as two of my fingers disappear inside her again. She moans and grinds her core against them. “We both know that's not your last name,” she mutters, sitting back against the couch, watching my hand, too. I raise my eyes to hers. “What do you want from me, Princess?” I thrust my fingers up inside her, twisting and curling them slowly while pinching her clit. Her desperate moans fill the empty silence around us as her hips rock involuntarily,

She runs her hand down the black cloth covering face, staring at me in the mask, studying me. I sit up on my knees meeting her lips as she grabs the bottom of the mask to pull me in closer. My hands snake around her face as she continues to attack my lips and my tongue, slipping her kisses down my neck and jawline. “Goddammit,” I sigh as her lips glide over my skin. "Why are you so irresistible?" "I'm not, you just might have low standards," she laughs, licking the skin of the serpent on my neck. “Fuck that; low standards. Really?" I scowl, grabbing her face.

"You're anything but low standards, Princess." I laugh, lowering my head. "You're just that, a princess; my princess. You deserved to be worshiped, adored, revered." Her eyes bounce between mine. "And Nick does that," she convinces me, forcing a smile. I run my thumb across her cheek bone. "I know he does." "I love him, Noah." I wince from the pain her words instantly bring me. They're the death of my heart.

She leans over and plants her lips lightly on mine, distracting my from my thoughts, but I can't handle lightly. Forcing her mouth open with my tongue, I fight her for dominance and she quickly surrenders. "Tell me, what do you want from me, my princess?” She smiles against my lips, resting her forehead on mine and inhaling deeply. “I want you to eat me, Sebastian. Fuck me with that devilish tongue of yours and make me cum in your mouth” she begs. My eyes roll to the back of my head as my cock twitches and throbs between my legs. My knees weaken the more I resist her. “Not until you say, please,” I order in a throaty voice. Her answer comes out in a warm, shaky breath. “Please, Sir.”

Motherfucker.

Digging my fingers deep into her tender skin, hoping it’ll leave bruises, I grab her thighs with force and yank her down until her ass is hanging off the couch. “You want me to eat out this pretty little cunt of yours, Princess?” I taunt, my words soft but the words intentionally rough. “Tongue fuck you until you're begging me to let you cum? Is that what you want?” She nods quickly, biting her lip. “Use your words, baby,” I huff, positioning myself at the center of her core.

“Yes, Noah please,” she begs, placing her hand on the back of my head. Her pussy is swollen yet still soaked and glistening from my fingers being inside her and I can smell her sex as I kiss the insides of her thighs, feeling her body jolt. “Easy, baby,” I say soothingly, blowing softly over her core. I’m aching to taste her, dying to have her bud between my teeth. I look up at her and she’s pleading with me through those warm brown eyes of hers, melting all of my resistance. Lifting both of her legs, I lay them on each of my shoulders, positioning myself perfectly at her core, and pepper the inside of it with kisses. My breath fans over her sensitive clit and she whines desperately, pathetically.

“When you’re with him, remember how hard I made you cum tonight. When you let Folio between you legs, remember the shape of my tongue deep inside you and the feeling of my mouth against your cunt long after tonight,” I whisper. She’s breathless beneath my touch as soon as I dive into her core, licking her clit slowly and running a finger through her slit. I don’t hesitate to insert two fingers, feeling her arch up off the couch, clawing the sofa cushion.

“Such a fucking perfect pussy, pretty girl.” I mumble against her sex, savoring the taste of her sweet precum. I flick her bud with my tongue, licking her up and back, then drag my covered nose aggressively up and her slit, just like I envisioned this morning. With no shame at all, she grinds against my face, letting out long, low moans as I devour her. “Oh God, Noah. Your tongue," she whines, loud and clear. "Noah, that feels so good,” she moans. “So fucking good,” panting between her short whines. Her cries become repetitive, her pants become erratic.

“She’s close,” Folio says squatting down next to me. It should feel weird as hell, him being this close to me as I have such an intimate moment with a woman, but for some reason it doesn't. Maybe because of who the woman is. In this moment, we share her. There is no line drawn to separate or establish ownership.

“Keep doing what you’re doing, especially with your fingers," he instructs me. "She loves it when I eat and fuck her at the same time.” His words give me an idea.

I let up on her for a moment and sit back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, looking over at Folio. His brown eyes are on fire with wanting her again, and the moment she looks at him that fire spreads over his entire face. She looks from Folio to me and her eyes tell me everything that she's afraid to say; she wants us both at the same time.

"She want's you to, don't you baby?" I glance at her. She a hot mess, waiting patiently to have her needs fulfilled. "You want his fingers and my mouth, don't you?" "What the fuck, Noah?" Folio scoffs. But when she doesn't disagree with me, he cocks his head, drawing his brows together. "Is that what you want, Sweetheart?" "I want you to to kiss me first, Nicky." Licking his lips, Folio crawls up her body and devours her mouth as her hands find his sides and dig their fingernails into his skin. "I do what you both, baby. I want you both to satisfy me."

He sits back down next to me, staring at her in disbelief. "What's wrong? Didn't think she was this much a freak?" Folio quietly chuckles in disbelief. "Honestly, no I didn't. But it's so fucking hot and and addictive, Noah. It's so wrong, I know, but watching you with her, how she responds to you, fuck. The feeling is so satisfying."

"So you don't mind everything I've been doing to her?" He slowly turns and looks at me. "I just don't want you to hurt her." I give him a reassuring grin. "I promise I won't hurt her anymore, Folio. Not now, not ever." He nods slightly, looking back down at his girlfriend. "I'll do anything to please you baby. If this is what you want, then this is what you'll get." "Good," she answers.

“Alright, Noah, let’s violate her together,” he agrees as an animalistic expression overtakes his eyes. “Let’s make her cum together.” I say nothing, only shift my body to give him some room. She looks down at the two of us and just stares for a moment. Her expression is soft and wistful and I melt when she reaches down and caresses my cheek, doing the same to Folio. He takes a quick breath and leans into her touch.

I can’t wait any longer. I pry my eyes off her and dive right back into her core, licking and sucking all of her that I can. She throws her head back, arching her back slightly, pushing her pussy harder into my face. My cock twitches and I moan, unable to get enough of her. Folio slips two fingers at a time inside her once I sit back, plunging deep into her slippery cunt. He works his fingers against her inner walls, twisting and turning his wrist, and pulling out only to slip back in while rubbing her clit with his thumb.

Her sweet little cries quickly become needy, filthy noises as her lips spill desperate curses. Watching Folio finger fuck her is doing things to me I've never thought I’d get off on. What we’re doing is sick, it's wrong, but fuck, it feels so good. “Nicky,” she pants. “Nicky, I’m so close baby,” crying out and grabbing his wrist. “Do you want Noah to finish you? You’re so fucking tight, I know you’re close.” She quickly nods, but whimpers as soon as he slides his fingers out of her. Before he gets up, he pushes her legs apart until they’re wide open, exposing her entire core to both of us. “Oh, fuck,” I groan at the sight.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Folio says, glancing from her wet core to her face. He leans down and runs his tongue ever her entrance, licking her as if she’s candy on a stick. “Oh god, Nicky, please,” she whines, begging as she's reaching for him. Folio shakes his head, standing to his feet. “Nope, Noah’s going to finish you, sweetheart.” He glances at me, expression darkened with emotion.

Lifting both her legs and resting them on my shoulders again, her thighs locked tight around my head, keeping me right where she wants me as I work my tongue over and deeper into her delicious pussy, lapping up her juices. Her hands snake over the back of my head and tug at the mask. I can't get enough of the way she pushes my face harder into her soaked core, mixed with my spit and her arousal. “Do you see the way I need you, Noah,” she whispers, rolling her hips against my face. "Do you feel what you do to me, taste what you put my body through?" “You only need me right now, because of how I’m making you feel, Princess, but you don’t need; you’ve never needed me.” The slow deep strokes of my tongue pull more sounds from her I never could have imagined. I begin to move with her, working her tight cunt with my tongue. "That's not true, Sebastian. I've always needed you. I always will."

I look up at her and find her staring longingly at me. There are faint tears behind her soft brown eyes. For a moment, I forget how to breath. "What does that mean, Princess?" "I don't know yet," she answers. "But for now, just use me how you want to Noah. Make my body always remember your touch. Scar me forever."

"Jesus, fuck it," I mumble, unable to fight my urges anymore. My cock need her, I need her. I lower her legs and stand up, pulling her to her feet. “What’s happening, Noah? What are you doing?” she asks, anxiously. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, not surprised by how light she is. “This is going to be cold,” I tell her, sitting her down on the table. She gasps. “Fuck that’s cold.” “Told you,” I smirk. She just glares at me. I undo the clasp of her bra and take it off her, throwing it on the floor. I groan at the sight of her tits, so perky, so pale. I grab both of the them and roll them around in my hands, basking in the feeling of them. Pushing her down, I lay her on her back, taking a moment to observe her beautiful body spread out on full display.

She purposely lets her legs fall open, exposing everything to me, slipping a finger inside herself. Her head falls back as I watch her prod her own entrance. "Jesus, fuck!" I grind my teeth while shaking my head. "What are you trying to accomplish, baby?" Her laughter fills the air. "Making you and Folio cum," she states so casually. "I'm almost there, Sweetheart," Folio claims. He gets up from the chair he's sitting in and comes over to us. "Why are you such a tease?" "I'm not. I'm not doing anything you two haven't seen before." "Yeah, but we've never see you do it. That's the difference." She doesn't respond, only continues prodding herself.

“Does she do this a lot?” Folio grins, watching the smile creep over her face as she dances her hand around her hard nipples and glistening pussy. "I've watched her get herself off like this only a few times. She’s a tease, a temptress, but fuck me… she’s perfect.” Folio’s voice catches in the back of his throat and he clears it. “I love her, Noah. I’m so fucking in love with her that the thought of loosing her keeps me up at night sometimes. I'm scared she’ll leave me for someone better?” I huff a laugh.

“You’re crazy. There’s no one better for her than you, Folio.” “Yeah there is, there’s you.” My body tenses. I shake my head fiercely. “No, you're wrong. I’m not good for her, Nick. I’m everything she doesn’t deserve. I’m too toxic for her. You’re good to her. You’re everything she needs and more.” We both stare at her, watching as she sits up on her elbows, waiting.

“She’s never never gonna give you up, Folio. You have her heart; completely.” I pat him on the shoulder. Closing the gap between me and her, I lean down and kiss her. “You’re impossible,” I chide her, running my finger up her slit and inserting it inside her. Her hands wrap around my wrist, pushing me further into her and I feel my middle finger hit that soft, spongy spot, causing her to sit up and moan, clenching her jaw.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” She nods rapidly, squeezing her eyes closed. “Fuck, Noah,” she breaths, staring into my eyes. She's so close to me, I can feel her warm breath on my lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Princess. I shouldn’t have been so cruel to you. God! I’m so fucking sorry.” She pulls me into her and attacks my lips, nipping them before our tongues crash together. Hers slides over mine, breathing into my mouth.

I push her back down and grab her hips, pulling her down closer to my cock. “I just want to get my tip wet,” I tell her as her eyes grow wide. "I’m not ready for you to cum on my cock yet, baby. I still need to make you cum in my mouth. But I just want to see how this feels,” I mutter, encircling my tip around her clit. “Ah, oh god,” she softly cries, watching me as I begin to tease her.

“Fuck, Noah, you’re a lot bigger,” she gasps when I push into her entrance with the crown of my cock. “Damn, baby," I groan. Just her entrance alone feels heavenly. I drive the head in and out of her pussy, teasing her to the point that she’s a writhing mess beneath me. “Noah,” she pants, throwing her hands over her face, dragging them down slowly.

“Noah, I,” she moans as I push into her again, making me grunt. “Ah, fuck, please, Noah, make me cum. I need it so badly,” she pleads with a whine. “Okay, Princess, since you said please.” I drop to my knees and hold her legs up, instantly diving into her pussy with only one thing in mind. I push further into her, curling my tongue as I seal my mouth against her wet lips, sucking and working my face hard against her. “That’s, ohhh, f-fuck Noah!” Her breathing is erratic and her cries are louder. I raise my head, but replace my mouth with my fingers and slide them in and out fast and hard. “Don’t fucking fight it, Princess. Don’t fight how fucking much you want to cum for me.” Her eyes meet mine and I see that aroused flicker in them.

I sink back down and continue to fuck her, alternating between my tongue and finger, knowing how close she is. I moan against her core. I can’t get enough of the way she tastes, the way she smells. Her sex is addictive and I just want to die right here between her thighs. She’s so sinfully delicious I never want to stop. “Oh god, don’t stop. Fff-fuck, Noah!” she cries. “I’m so close, don’t stop.” “Cum for me baby. Feed me. I’ll swallow all of you.” I beg, digging my fingertips deeper into her thighs.

Finally her orgasm explodes in my mouth, ripping through her savagely. She rides my face all through her release just like she did for me earlier, willingly lapping her entire mess. But this satisfies nothing in me. It’s not enough. I want more. I want to penetrate her insides, violate every part of her until I have her crying, screaming, and begging me to stop. I want her pathetically at my mercy Fuck! I need to fuck her hard; now.

I climb to my feet and before she even has time to recover, I grab her arm and throw her over my shoulder again, grabbing the rope as I make my way to the bedroom, tossing her on the bed once there, climbing up behind her. Folio enters, watching as I get on my knees and shove her down into the mattress to tie her up. “What are you doing to her, Noah,” he asks hesitantly. “I’m restraining her again,” I answer calmly.

“Why?” "Because I want too and because I can." I slip my arm under her and lift her ass up higher. It’s pale and beautiful, like a porcelain trinket you shouldn’t touch because it might break. Well, fuck that. I raise my hand and slap her ass cheek, groaning the instant she shrieks. “You like that, don’t you Princess. I knew you would. I know you like it rough.” I do it again, this time to the other side. Her moan echoes through the room. "Fuck, Noah."

The sight of her face down and ass up awakens the inner monster in me, bringing out the depraved hunger in me of wanting to see her squirm and writhe beneath the force of my desire. “You like it don’t you baby?” She whimpers, but answers that she does. Her confession surprises Folio as he enters the room. "Holy shit, Noah. Did you spank her?" "Twice," I admit. He looks down at her, caressing her back. “You like Noah being rough with you; tying you up and spanking you, baby?" “Yes,” she quickly admits.

Even through the mask, I can see a deep craving settle in his eyes. “Come on, Folio. I know you have it in you. That one night in the kitchen when you had her bent over the kitchen table was insane. Don’t deny it felt great.”

He glances at me with a darkened look. “You wanna feel his hand on your ass again?” he teases, running his hand over the smooth red skin of her ass cheek, watching her cringe.

He leans down and kisses the redness, softly gliding his lips, tongue, and the tip of his nose over her skin and making her shudder. A soft moan slips past her lips, making my cock twitch. I’m swollen hard again and in need of a desperate release. “I want to feel yours, baby, she whines, practically begging him for it.

Folio doesn’t bother to answer. He just raises his hand and lets it come down with a loud slap. She screams, followed by another ungodly moan and Folio groans, throwing his head back while palming his cock. “Feels fucking good, doesn’t it,” I chuckle, gloating in the fact that I was right and he knows it. He looks over at me, but doesn’t say anything. His eyes say it all; he’s turned on by her pain.

“You want it rough baby? You want me to make it hurt?” he growls, letting his hand come down on her again. “Fuck, Nicky,” she cries, burying her face in the mattress. He kneels down at the side of the bed, brushing hair out of her eyes. She shakes her head at whatever he says to her and slides his hand into one of hers that’s still loosely bound behind her, squeezing it and kissing her on the lips before standing back up, taking his mask off.

“I know I told you anything goes, but I swear to god Noah, if you hurt her in any way that makes her feel uncomfortable,” “I won’t, I promise, Nick. You should know that. I love her.” His eyes grow wide. “Don’t look surprised. You and I both know you’re not. You’ve known for a long time.” “Why do you think I suggested this?” I nod. “I’m just not used to hearing you say it.”

I run my hand gently over her bottom, over the red welted hand prints of both mine and Folio’s and notice how her body flinches from my touch. It strikes an ache in my heart. “It’s not going to change anything though, Noah, you know that, right? None of this will. After tonight, you and her will have your shit worked out and she and I can finally move on together; finally bury the past.” I look back down at her and run my hand up her spine, only to feel her skin prickle from my touch.

“But it does, Folio. It changes everything even if it’s only for tonight. I don’t think she’s going to want to give me up that easily after tonight, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to either.” “You have no choice, Noah. She’s mine.” Without another word, Folio walks off, heading towards the bathroom.

“Noah,” she calls to me softly. I climb onto the bed behind her and wrap my arm around her waist, lifting her up to her knees. I lean over her back to kiss the side of her face, but she turns her head quick enough for our lips to collide.

The heat that engulfs us is overwhelming. I can’t stop the way my tongue immediately consumes the inside of her mouth tasting what remains of my cum from earlier or the way my hands snake around her throat, fingers trailing covetously over her skin. She whimpers quietly beneath my kiss and my touch. “I think you liked being spanked by me a little too much, didn’t you.” She shakes her head, but I reach under her and feel her warm, soaked cunt.

“Lier,” I whisper in her ear. You wanna feel my hand on your ass again? You want it to hurt?” Her muffled moan is the only answer I need. Shoving her back down on the bed, I spank her again, harder this time and she bucks, screaming into the mattress. “I knew you like it rough.” “Maybe I do,” she fires back, choking back a moan, “but I hate fucking mind games, Noah!”

Her words hit me in the chest like a gut punch to the stomach. “You fucked with my head for so long and now you’re fucking with my heart, and I can’t handle it anymore.” “I know, okay! I know the things I did to you, the mind games I played with you were wrong. And I know that what we’re doing now is wrong! I'm sorry! Okay! I’m fucking sorry.” I can’t breathe. My chest is so tight and I feel like the walls are closing in on me.

I hear her breath catch in the back of her throat as she chokes back a sob. “I just fucking wanted you so much, Princess, but I was scared you didn't want me,” I confess no longer caring how desperate or pathetic I sound to her.

Unable to control the urge, I slide one of my fingers deep into her cunt, feeling how drenched in arousal she is as she clenches around me, making me groan in an aching neediness to possess her. “I thought that I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought that if I was mean enough to you it would change how my heart felt about you.”

Folio walks back into the room, and I can feel his eyes on my back but I no longer care about him or his feelings. I only care about one thing right now; the woman beneath me. This is our moment. This is where we work our shit out. We’ll just fuck it out of each other until neither one of us is in pain anymore. “And did it work?” she asks, barely above a whisper, gasping when I pull my finger out of her.

“…. No. It only made me want you more,” I say without hesitation, sucking her juice off my finger. A single tear slides down her cheek, causing my heart to plummet to the pit of my stomach. “Noah, you have me right now to do whatever you want to me, to make me feel whatever, however you want.” My hand around her waist drifts to the warmth of her pussy again. She bucks her hips and moans at the feeling of my hand all over her soaked cunt, my long fingers slipping and sliding in and out of her. She feels so fucking good.

“Jesus,” I pant, licking my dry lips. I'm rutting against her ass like a pathetic animal in heat, looking for any way to satisfy the aching swelling of my cock. “I don't want to hurt you.” “Then don’t. But I can take a little more just this last time. So fuck me like you mean in Noah. Fuck me like you’ll never have me again, because you won’t.”

Her words are a blow to my heart, one that I fully deserve. But I’m too overwhelmed with a need to be inside her to care about that right now. All I want to do now is do what she told me to do; fuck her like I mean it. I raise her up until her back is against my chest and her hands graze the side of my cock, making me buck against her.

Wrapping me giant hands around her small breasts, I squeeze them vigorously like a depraved mad man shifting my long body awkwardly around just to take part of one in my mouth. I devour as much of it as I can from the angle I'm at, taking her pebbled nipple between my teeth and suck on it. Her labored breathing has me sitting back and her head falling against my shoulder.

Running my hands over her sides, I slide them up and over her nipples. Her breath hitches as she inhales and I can hear the quiet moans that leave her every time I drag the middle of my palms over the pebbled flesh, pinching them hard between my thumb and finger. She thrusts her ass against me, rutting my cock

She’s pathetic, desperate, and needy, yet beautiful, resilient, and irresistible. I’m obsessed with her. Taking her breasts fully into my hands, I knead the warm flesh feeling the aching and throbbing in my balls from the need to have my cock buried inside her. Our breathing together escalates until we’re both panting and writhing in each other's arms.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, running her lips over my jaw line. “I need you in me. I want you, Noah.” “I should make you say please,” I say, my voice husky and dry. She moans when I pinch her nipples and rubs her ass against my cock again. “Dammit Noah, just stop talking and fuck me,” she seethes.

“Fuck,” I hiss, “but I like you desperate and demanding, so fucking needy,” I growl. I let her go and shove her back down on the mattress, lifting her ass up again and positioning where I want her. I grab the base of her neck, pressing down to hold her firm against the mattress and align my cock up to her entrance. “Say it again, Princess,” I order, this time with as much aggression that I can pull out of me.

“Fuck me, Noah, please.” “Louder!” “Noah,” she softly cries. “So Folio can hear it, Princess.” “God! Fuck me Noah. I want you to fuck me!” I look over at Folio, and he’s sitting on the couch, watching us intently. But the second his eyes glance over me, he lowers his head, throwing his hands over top. “I’m going to ruin the fuck out of you, Princess.”

“Then ruin me.”

Fuck.

Everything falls apart after that. My erratic hunger takes control of my senses, blurring the lines between respecting or degrading her body. I told her I don't want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean I won't.

In the mask, I’ve become someone else; a bolder, darker me. It’s the version that takes over my mind at night when I’m all alone and sexual hunger is the only thing I can think about. It’s the version of me I’ve never let anyone see; until now.

I drive the head of my cock into her entrance, seeing that I really am a lot bigger than her tight hole. I take a moment to stretch her some, in and out slowly so I don’t hurt her too much. But the further in I go, the harder it is to come back out. I want to stay in her, sink all the way into her until her ass and my groin are inseparable.

“The first time I touched you, you were so wet for me, soaked in your arousal.” I run my hand up her back, feeling her shudder, pressing harder into her. Her cries are alluring. “Then I heard you moan when you had my dick in your mouth and you swallowed every drop of my cum like a good little slut that you are.” I slowly fuck into her, forcing my cock deeper into her. “Fuck, Noah!” she cries.

Folio’s watching me, eyes staring hard at us, as I'm about to fully fuck his girlfriend. I pull out of her, feeling her legs trembling. “Spread your legs more, Princess. I want to see.” My voice is like gravel, filled with lust. I’m aching so badly, my hardened cock throbbing from the slow torture even more than before.

With her ass raised high and legs spread apart, her pussy is very visible to me. It's pink and glistening wet with her arousal I dip the tip of my cock inside her again, just to see her reaction and she pushes back instantly, rutting against it like I knew she would. “Your pussy is aching for me right now,” I mutter, thrusting my tip against her entrance. “You want it baby, well then here you go.”

With one hard vicious thrust, I enter her, letting her neck go and grabbing her hips as I pull back and give her another single, wild and aggressive thrust that makes her scream my name. “That’s it, Princess, scream my name,” I coax her. Another thrust. Fuck! “Holy shit, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around me! Goddamn, you feel incredible. So tight, so fucking tight!" I growl as I start to fuck her in the true sense of the word until I find a rhythm that fits us.

Her cries are loud and brutal, turning me on to the point I grow and grunt like a feral animal each time I slam back into her, coating my cock in her juices. “God you fucking love it like this, don’t you, Princess.” “Yes! Ughh I love it, fuck, Noah, I love it.” “Yeah, I know you are a pretty girl. You like my cock fucking you like this, like a fucking animal, filling you in ways Folio never can.” She screams my name again, as I lift her ass higher, allowing me to fuck up into her deeper and hit that soft spot inside her again.

“Scream my name baby, that’s it!” I yell, plowing into her from behind. For long minutes, the only sound is our heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed, and the slapping of flesh hitting flesh. I’m desecrating her like I wanted to, with the depravity of my mind and body, imprinting the shape of my cock into her cunt. She won’t ever be able to forget how I feel inside her. “Louder! Scream fucking louder for me,” I growl out through clenched teeth. Her desperate moans turn into a scream, but it’s still not good enough.

“We both know you can be louder than that, baby.” I raise my other hand and let it come down hard on her ass, smacking the pail skin again, marking a favorite spot on her that I love. It earns me the sound I’ve been looking for. “There it is! God-fucking- dammit,” I growl again, “Noah,” she pants, moaning louder. “Right there,” she cries out. “Don’t stop! Right there!” I can feel her pussy clenching my cock, telling me she’s about to cum.

“You’re nothing but a fucking little whore for me, aren’t you, Princess. You’ll let me fuck you however I want, especially if I can make that pretty pink pussy cum all over my tongue or my cock. Am I right, baby,” I growl, lifting her ass up higher to fuck her at a different angle; deeper and rougher. “Jesus, Noah!” she screams, as I find a different rhythm and position to fuck her brutally, shoving her thighs further apart as I’m hammering harder into her pussy. “Fuck,” I murmur, panting. “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum.”

She’s gasping and crying, moaning my name over and over. “Noah,” she whimpers. “Say it again, Princess,” I growl, plunging deep into her pussy. “Fuck! Noah!” she gasps. “Who’s fucking you, baby,” grunting through another thrust. “Oh god!” she cries when I hit her g-spot. “You are, Noah. You are!”

I grab her hair and yank her back against me. Her hands are still bound and her tangled fingers hit my chest as I lock her hip between me and the mattress. I pull out of her soaking wet cunt only to slam back in with deep force, tangling my hands into her hair even more. I let out a strained moan repeating the hard thrust again, feeling her reaction against it. “You can take it! I know you can!”

Another loud moan rips through her, echoing in the room. It’s the very thing I need to push harder into and begin to truly fuck her like she deserves; fast and relentlessly.

Folio slips the black ski mask on and watches us from across the room, seated in the comfort of the gray couch that’s pushed up against the wall. Moments ago I watched him finger fuck her as I at her out until she came all over my face. It was so pornographic, deranged and fucked up what he and I did to her at the same time but holy fuck was it satisfying. It made every desire of possessing her mind and body come alive, fully waking the demon I’d been trying so hard to keep away.

“What’s wrong, Folio? Don’t you like what you see? Listen to her! She sounds so beautiful, just like this morning,” I taunt him, using the girl below me for my pleasure alone. She’s trying to hold out and not cum, but at the pace I’m fucking her at, she won’t last much longer. I feel the familiar build up in my groin, telling me I won’t wither. My grunts are abundant, my breathing is heavy.

Spitting on my fingers, I reach around and find that spot of her clit and rub it, knowing fully well it’s all she needs to push her over the edge. “Oh god, Noah, fuck! Noah, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Folio stands before her, completely wrecked from everything he’s watching. He says nothing, just silently watches as his girlfriend comes apart for me.

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” “Yeah, Noah, please,” she begs. I kiss her shoulder and give her the okay. “Alright, then cum for me baby. Cum so I can spill myself all over you!” Finally, her pussy gives in and she explodes around my cock, screaming my name as she does. Her body is trembling as I continue fucking her through her orgasm, feeling that same familiar pressure.

“Shit, goddammit Princess, I’m about to cum, f-fuck!” I growl thrusting hard into her one more time, ripping the black ski mask off, before pulling out and shoving her body back down on the mattress, spilling my seed over her ass and lower back. Completely out of breath I look up at Folio and grin wickedly at him before collapsing over top of her.

“I had the whole damn world and I gave it all away/What did I think I would save?/For better or for worse, this is my burden to take'/Cause I'm the only one to blame/You're so much better off/With nothing but memories”

-The Fountain-

“Do you know how good it feels to have you lying here so vulnerable in my arms?” Her words cut my heart wide open. I close my eyes, absorbing the feeling of her fingertips caressing the skin of my face, over my lips, and down my neck. I slip a hand beneath her head and raise her up to meet my mouth, kissing her gently, slowly as our tongues massage one another’s.

A chill runs over my body from her hands running down my back and over my ass, making me shiver. My body is laying over top of hers. She has one leg locked around one of mine while I have her other one spread out and my knee gently pressed against her core. She’s tired, exhausted, and spent from everything that Folio and I have put her through.

I’ve disposed of the mask, no longer hiding behind the face of anger. I’m unguarded, a complete open book for her now and I’m terrified. I’ve never let her see me like this and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I kiss her again, taking my time to taste every part of her mouth and tongue that I can. As I stare into her soft eyes, I no longer see the resentment for me in them. I only see love and compassion. What changed? I’ve been horrible to her for the last few hours, hurting her, degrading her, saying vile and mean things to her and yet, she’s right here beneath me, even though she doesn’t belong to me.

“So give me something beautiful/So give me something else/I need another miracle/I really need some help, I need a miracle”

-Miracle

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” My apology catches her off guard. She frowns, expression ridden with confusion. “I was stupid and inconsiderate of you, of your heart. I tried to blame everything on you and I hurt you so badly.” I try to breathe through the panic rising in my chest, but it’s hard to. “Noah, don’t,” she says, closing her eyes.

“I know, I know, I’m not, fuck! God, this is painful.” I drop my head to her chest, and she sweetly presses me against her. My cheek lays partially on her breast, close enough to her nipple. I rub the end of my nose against it and I feel her hum in approval, and then I lick it, swirling around it with the tip of my tongue. She sighs, moaning softly and arching her back a little, encouraging me to take the whole thing into my mouth.

Gently sucking her tit, my fingers find her pussy, and knowing it so well now, I slip two fingers inside her, sliding them over her inner walls, so wet and warm; still. I fuck her cunt slowly and as sweetly as I can, watching the mix of expressions that wash over her beautiful face. “Noah, what are you doing,” she breaths while I attack her neck with kisses, slightly covered with small purple bruises. “What does it feel like I'm doing? It doesn’t hurt does it?

She softly moans, shaking her head when my thumb circles her clit. She digs her nails into my biceps. That's when I notice her tears. Her eyes are shut tight, but the proof of hurt slides down the sides of her face. “Hey, look at me,” nudging her face with mine. Her eyes open. They're glazed over with tears. My eyes dart between hers, trying to find the answers I'm looking for. Her fingers find my lips and I kiss their tips.

“I waited you out, Noah. I waited until I hit the bottom.” “But I drowned you out, didn't I?” She doesn't say anything, just pulls me down and slips her tongue in my mouth, kissing me like she needs all the air in my lungs. “Why did you pretend not to notice? Not to care? You saw the pain and the confusion in me. You knew you were hurting me. Why didn't you stop? We could've been together, Noah. This could've been our life.”

Watching her tears fall is destroying me. Every teardrop is a stab to the chest that cuts open the wound that I realize has never healed. “I don't know,” is the only answer I can give her. I can't look her in the eyes any longer, so I turn away, digging into my eyes with my thumb and index finger. “You were good enough, Noah, for me. You were everything I wanted. And I wanted you so fucking bad. I needed you and you just fucking left me.” “I know, okay,” I snap, weeping softly. The pain I feel is too much. I don’t want to feel it anymore.

“I know what I did to you, and I have to fucking live with that choice for the rest of my life.” Slipping my hands around her face, I sit up and pull her into my lap. Nothing else around us seems to exist right now. I’m lost in the brokenness I feel, lost in the idea of what could’ve been, but what is at the moment just for a few more hours. Right now, she’s mine; only mine. I don’t care about what comes later.

I’m hard for her again. I want to feel her cum on my cock one more time, but this time I want to watch her. “Noah,” she whispers, her breath shaky and weak. I slide my fingers through her folds and she’s already soaked. I lift her slightly, aligning her pussy with cock and shove myself into her, feeling instant gratification. “Uh, fuck, I like this position,” I sigh as she smiles with a light laugh and starts thrusting herself hard into me. “Noah, oh, damn.” “Yeah, I know,” I grunt. Her pace quickens, letting me know she wants to be in control.

“You want to take over? You wanna ride me, baby?” She nod’s quickly “Yeah of course you do. Alright, come on,” I say shifting myself around without coming out of her and laying on my back. “Alright, pretty girl, ride me. Make me cum for you,” I challenge her. She grabs my hands and places them on her breasts as she begins moving up and down, working my cock inside her warm cunt. The feeling is indescribable. It makes me moan, curse, dig my fingers and nails into her thighs. “God dammit, Princess, that’s it. Fuck my cock just like that. God you’re pussy fucks me so good.” Her soft moans quickly become soft screams, which are suddenly silenced by Folio’s lips on hers. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her face back towards him, devouring her lips and her tongue.

“Make him cum, sweetheart, so I can finally have you back.” Folio’s eyes shift to mine and as much as I want to hate him and be angry at him, I can’t. It wasn’t part of the deal. I have to give her back. She doesn’t belong to me. She turns back to me, lowering herself to kiss me, dragging her lips and tongue across the skin of my neck. Taking me hands, she holds them on either side of my head, locking her fingers tight around mine, and starts to fuck me. Slow at first, fully talking my heart forever with each bite to my neck that she takes. Then her pace quickens and she fucks me harder.

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t stop,” I tell her, staring straight into her eyes. I can feel her pussy tightening around me as my cock twitches. She’s close. With every move she’s pulling my cum closer and closer to the tip with her tightness hugging it like a warm glove. I can’t push the feeling back any longer. The heat in my groin, the tingle in my cock, my sensitive tip, and the dead giveaway… my balls fucking ache.

“God, Princess,” I pant. I’m dying to touch her, but she still has my hands pinned down. “Is this how you fucking felt, tied up?” “Worse.” “Fuck! I’m sorry! Let me go, please. I want to touch you.” “No.” I growl. “Let me go, now!” With a few more thrusts, she lets up, releasing my arms. I gather her in my arms right as I watch her cum on my cock for the first time. The way she bites her lip, throwing her head back and milking herself by grinding so hard on my cock, is all it takes for me to reach my end.

“I wanna cum inside you,” I pant. Still cumming herself, she clings to me and whispers in my ear “the fucking fill me, Sebastian.” “Holy fuck!” I cry, releasing my load inside her, filling her fully like she wants. I squeeze her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck, feeling her kisses on the side of my face. “I love you, Noah,” she says breathlessly. This is her goodbye. “The past is over. Let's move on. I wanna move on.”

Kissing my lips one more time, I close my eyes as she climbs off of me, letting go me, and I fall back into the comfort of the bed. She really did let me go that easily; after everything I said to her. I’m exhausted; physically and mentally. I turn my head and see my black ski mask laying next to me. I pick it up, bring it to my face and breathe in deeply. It smells like her. I let the tears fall silently as I think about her, wondering what our lives are going to look like once the three of us leave this place. I know I won't be able to look at her the same, I won’t be able to watch her and Folio together and not feel jealous, envying him every single time he goes to bed at night. I know this love I have for her could ruin me, but I can't stop. And even if I could, would I? She and I are like fire and ice, destined to collide, but never meant to be together.

She left me. Just like I left her. She destroyed me. Just like I destroyed her. And as I lay here alone, listening to the sounds of their love making coming from the bathroom, I suddenly feel so empty without her. Even though she was never mine, losing her broke my heart.

I'm so afraid/That the walls that I have made have locked me in/I'm not okay/But I can try my best to just pretend/So will you wait me out until I let you down?/So will you wait me out until I let you down?

Just Pretend (Acoustic)

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