#if i find a way to i will do it for previous chapters as well

[kesujo]

Chapter 14: Miss Not-So-Innocent - Part 1

Previous chapter here. 8.4k words

“Hey, by the way, how’s it going with Tiffany?”

“Hm?”

Jessica showed up an hour or so after Parker had finished dinner. Seeing that she arrived in her pajamas, Parker was about to turn her away when she said she just wanted to hang out and was feeling a little lonely. He knew Hunter had to leave the state for an emergency for one of the hotels he was responsible for—a safety threat of some kind—leaving Jessica by herself for a few days now, so he shrugged and let her in. Fortunately, Jessica stayed true to her word, joining him in watching a volleyball match in the living room and doing nothing more.

In fact, with how much Parker’s been interacting with Jessica recently due to work, casual conversations in the office in which the subject of sex didn’t come up even in subtle, teasing jest were becoming more and more frequent. It was nice, even if Jessica had called him into her office the other day to coat his penis with some weird stuff while she kept it erect for a few minutes and refused to elaborate further afterwards. Otherwise, however, their conversations were … exceedingly normal. It’s only been a week, but having normal interactions with Jessica was a nice breath of fresh air. When she wasn’t dragging him to film pornos or dragging him into her office to be railed with her tits hanging out the windows, Jessica was a very charming, very likeable person. So, Parker’s guard slowly but surely dropped, to the point that he had pretty much forgotten that Jessica was sitting next to him on the couch until she posed the question.

“Pretty…” Parker racked his brain for any possible way he might’ve wronged Tiffany that would thus elicit the question from Jessica. Was it that kiss? But she didn’t seem to mind that much … was there anything else? Did he find some other way to mess up? “…good?”

Seeing Parker’s hesitation, Jessica laughed. “Relax, I’ve heard from Tiffany but want to hear from you too.”

Hearing that, Parker let out a sigh. “Yeah. Pretty good. I took her mini-golfing and then had seafood for dinner. It was a ton of fun, at least for me, but…”

“Hm?”

With how socially aware Jessica was, Parker was really hoping he wouldn’t have to spell it out for her. “Well … you know, how—what’d you hear about it from her?”

When Jessica stayed silent for a few seconds, Parker’s heart plummeted. Was it that bad?

“Do you want to know how Tiffany reacted to watching that porno we shot?”

Parker didn’t know what he thought Jessica said at first. He had to do a triple-take to fully understand it, and when he did, “Ti—” actually, was he hearing correctly? “—Tiffany?!”

“Hm?”

“You showed that to her?!”

Jessica met Parker’s bewilderment with a nonchalant smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry though, she loved it. You should’ve seen how red her face was.” In the back of Parker’s mind, he had to admit that the sight would’ve been really endearing. “But, I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t know we fuck on a regular basis.”

Parker groaned. Was that a good sign? What did Jessica’s answer even mean? “But … ah, but that’s … and she knows it was us?”

“Mhm.”

Parker’s mind was beginning to short circuit. The fact that Jessica was so jovial about this was a good thing, right? “And she knew it was us when she asked to see it?”

“Mmhm.”

“And … she really watched it, all the way through?”

“Yep.”

“And she … she liked it?”

Jessica laughed. “Yeah! Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“I mean … are you sure it was ok to show Tiffany something like that?”

“Well yeah, considering she was the one who insisted on watching it.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. “She—” if it wasn’t Jessica who was telling him this, he never in a million years would’ve believed it. Heck, even though it was Jessica, Parker was still unsure if he believed that. “—she wanted to watch it?”

“Yep. I know, I was surprised too.”

The adorable, wide-eyed Tiffany, who could barely say the words ‘sex’ or ‘fuck’ without turning beet red, who was hesitant to even ask for a goodbye kiss after their last date … that Tiffany asked to see a porno her best friend and said date featured in?

“I can see that you don’t believe me.”

“I mean, you can understand why, though.”

“Yeah. I teased Tiff about it for days.” There was laughter in Jessica’s voice, and a little bit within Parker himself, he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “You know, you two are so darn cute together!” Unable to contain the excited schoolgirl inside her any longer, she let out a squeal so loud that Parker jumped. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other! You should’ve heard her squealing to me about how perfect you are after every single one of your dates!”

Hearing that put Parker a bit more at ease. “Well, glad to hear it. Just, go easy on her, alright?”

“Aw, worried about your girl?”

“She’s not—” Parker stopped, realizing Jessica wasn’t going to listen no matter how firmly he denied it.

“I mean, she pretty much is, right?”

“What?”

Jessica’s grin grew wider. “Come on, you don’t think Tiff didn’t fill me in on all the deets about your dates? How you got a discount at that restaurant for being a ‘really cute couple’, how you kissed her goodnight in front of her parents after that one date, and how that turned into an impromptu first meeting with them, and how they ended up adoring you?” Parker groaned. He could feel the tips of his ears turning redder by the second: he just wanted to smash his head into the couch’s armrest, but the rally going on in the volleyball match was too intense to turn his eyes away from.

“Jess—”

“Oh, and of course, on your most recent date, where you gave her a pad when she forgot to put extras in her purse?!” Parker was now convinced: the reason why Jessica was so giddy about Tiffany getting together with him was so that she could tease both of them relentlessly. Never mind what he thought before, about Jessica being incredibly likeable: she was the Devil herself. “I’ve heard from Tiff’s parents about male friends of hers they disapprove of. But to think you managed to charm them after kissing their daughter goodnight?! That’s almost unheard of! No, scratch that, that is absolutely unheard of!”

“Can you please stop?”

Jessica let out a giggle. “You and Tiff both, the way your voices get so quiet and your ears turn so red, are just too adorable.”

After a brief pause, Parker spoke back up. “So, you know how I only asked you twenty-two questions about Tiffany?” Jessica nodded. “I’m going to use one of them now.” Sensing the seriousness in his voice, the smile faded from her face. “Are you one-hundred-percent sure Tiffany is willing to have an open relationship?” This was the one hangup that was preventing Parker from asking Tiffany to be his girlfriend. Going out with Tiffany while fucking her best friend just felt wrong. Spending time with Tiffany, talking to her, just being around her made Parker feel like he was on cloud nine, but that thought lingering in the back of his mind prevented him from fully enjoying it. He wouldn’t put it past Tiffany to simply be too nice to acquiesce with an open relationship when she, in reality, wasn’t. Or maybe she even gaslit herself into believing that she was. “I mean, maybe you’re not the right person to ask, but…”

“Yeah … I know, right? A sweet, innocent, traditionalist girl like Tiffany? Especially after what she went through?” Parker didn’t respond, continuing to watch the match. Parker figured Jessica was talking about the troublesome experience Tiffany had with an ex, but seeing as how she kept her wording vague, he didn’t pry. “I’ve talked to her a lot about it, reassuring her I’d be willing to give up on my competition with Hunter in a heartbeat for her, but every time, she said that she’s sure about it.”

“I … I see.”

It set Parker’s mind at ease somewhat, but still didn’t fully clear up the muddiness in his mind about the topic. He would just have to talk to Tiffany about it.

“Have you two fucked since the first time?”

Parker snorted. “What—what are you asking all of the sudden?!”

Jessica just smiled. “So, that’s a no?”

“No! For your information, it’s already not normal to have had sex with someone before starting to date them.”

“That’s such a waste though, with how hot Tiff is and how much of a blast you two were having last time.” Parker’s face flushed a little at that memory. It was true that having sex with Tiffany was great, and he would be lying if he said that he never thought about it, but Parker prioritized taking the proper steps in their relationship first. He was thankful for Jessica for introducing them, but he didn’t need her to influence it with her salacious tendencies.

“It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That might be sooner than you think. I’m pretty sure Tiffany is—” the notification sound of a phone interrupted her, and when Jessica whipped hers out to check it, she got up. “—sorry, my friend just got here, she’s in the lobby. We were supposed to hang out, but do you mind if she comes here?”

No. No, no no no. He wasn’t going to get roped into this again. He didn’t care how unlikely it seemed that this friend of Jessica’s would want to have sex with him, he had gotten caught off guard too many times with thoughts like surely not or but this is too far-fetched or Jessica isn’t this insane to disregard that possibility.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“But she came to hang out with you, right?”

“I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

What was Jessica doing here? Did this friend know about him for some reason? Sure, if Parker was visiting a friend, he wouldn’t mind meeting a friend of his friend’s, but saying he’d love to was stretching it a bit. Maybe this friend just liked meeting new people … otherwise, Parker couldn’t shake off the paranoid feeling that this was going where he feared it might be going. “I’m nothing special.”

“I beg to differ, you’re my husband’s best friend. Such a man is not ‘nothing special’.”

Parker sighed. He knew where this was going: they would go back and forth until Jessica made him feel guilty for refusing to accommodate this friend of hers. In fact, they didn’t even need to go back-and-forth much more, he was already starting to feel that guilt, but trying to disregard it to fend off his paranoia felt a moot task. “If she really wants to come over, then yeah, she can.”

“Great! I’ll be right back!”

In the few minutes Jessica took to retrieve her friend, Parker weighed the possibility that he would be roped into more shenanigans. If she was even able to rope Tiffany in, then what about her friends who were more like her? Parker didn’t really know many of Jessica’s friends, but from what little he heard about them from Tiffany, she was more so the odd-one-out than the normal one. Given, in that context, it seemed like Tiffany was joking, so all Parker could hope was that Tiffany was exaggerating a bit for comedic effect.

When a knock came at the door, Parker jumped out of his seat. “Coming!” Opening the door, he was greeted with the smiling visage of Jessica and one other, slightly shorter but truly breathtakingly beautiful woman. If Parker was tasked with the objective to sculpt the most aesthetically pleasing face he could imagine, this woman would’ve easily beaten the product of his imagination. Parker didn’t know what it was with Jessica and having the most attractive friends, but she was an almost mystical, ethereal beauty that he almost couldn’t believe existed in the real world. Her skin was fair, unblemished, and porcelain white; her hair jet black, silky smooth, stopping at her chest; the only thing that could be said about her was that her slim figure didn’t make way for many curves, but even that seemed to suit her pure, innocent visuals well. Above all else, though, was how well her facial features fit on her face: her eyes were large, her eyelashes long, her eyebrows perfectly trimmed, her nose slim and long, her lips full, her cheekbones protruding and her perfectly aligned teeth shining white against his apartment’s lights.

“Parker, this is Irene, a childhood f—…”

Jessica abruptly cut herself off, looking over at the other woman, who gave her an encouraging nod, emphatically interjecting, “Friend!”

“—friend of mine.”

“Hi!” The luminescent woman stepped in and embraced the significantly taller man in a hug, a gesture which momentarily caught him off guard. “Oh wow, you’re pretty tall.”

“Uh—” He had never met Irene before, so being introduced with such a friendly gesture stunned him for a brief second. “—yeah, sorry.”

“Oh, no need to apologize! It would probably be easy to tackle you, I would just have to duck a little and your arms would go right over my head!”

Parker let out an utterly bewildered chuckle. “Wh-What?”

“See?” Irene demonstrated by doing exactly what she said, ducking a little and wrapping her arms around his torso, planting her face against the bottom of his sternum. “It goes right over,” she said, tilting her head upwards to see Parker’s arms swiping at open air.

“Yeah … I guess it does…” Parker looked over at Jessica who was just looking at the two with a bemused smile. He shot her a confused glance, to which she replied with a shrug.

Irene released Parker, squatting down to pick up a package she had dropped to hug him. It was only then that Parker noticed it. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just something Jessica asked me to pick up for her.”

“…Right, gotcha.” The vague answer reminded Parker of the hesitation with this entire ordeal, something that Irene’s effervescent introduction had caused him to forget. Did he really want to know what that package contained? Did he even care? Why didn’t they drop it off at Jessica’s place, which was right next door, first? None of these were questions he was going to get answers to anyway, so Parker just kept them to himself.

“Were you watching volleyball?”

“Yeah. Do you watch?”

“Nope!”

The answer, again, caught Parker off guard. With the amount of enthusiasm Irene asked the question, Parker figured she recognized the teams or at least had some degree of interest in the sport. “Oh.” Usually, Parker was able to carry a conversation better and more naturally. With Irene, he couldn’t even formulate a proper response in his mind.

“Oh—oh my gosh, they’re hitting that ball so fast! I can’t imagine intentionally letting that hit my own arms.”

Well, that was something to work with at least. “Yeah, those spikes can get up to sixty miles-per-hour.”

“Don’t you need to be tall to play volleyball?” Irene turned to face Parker. “You’re pretty tall, right? Have you ever played it?”

“Me? No, I just like to watch. I’m probably on the shorter side for volleyball players, honestly.”

Hearing that made Irene’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Really?! Wow … I probably wouldn’t even have to duck to tackle them.”

Another chuckle escaped Parker’s lips. “Why would you want to tackle them?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it fun to tackle people sometimes?”

“I don’t…” Parker trailed off, completely unable to formulate a response. “…Jessica, how do you keep up with her?”

Jessica smiled. “I don’t. I just let her say whatever she wants.”

“Hm…”

Irene didn’t seem to mind, plopping down on the sofa and setting the package down next to her. “Oh wait, number nine is pretty hot, isn’t he?”

“Hm?” Jessica turned towards the TV screen, finding the player with the corresponding jersey. “Yeah, he is.”

“How tall is he? Do you know?”

Irene turned towards Parker, who could only shrug. “My guess is somewhere between six-two and six-five.”

“Holy … that’s a bit too tall, isn’t it? I mean, if someone’s that tall, would I even have to kneel to give him a blowjob?”

Parker let out a hacking cough. “Wha-What?”

“I mean, you’d probably have to bend down a little. Like, for Parker, I can still kneel and be level with his dick, but I need to pull it down a little while straining my neck up a little to compensate.”

“Oh, I see. But what if their penis isn’t as big? Then wouldn’t it be slightly harder to pull it down to the level of your face while kneeling?”

“Oh, that may be true…” What the hell kind of a conversation were they having? And why were they speaking about it so casually? And especially in front of someone else? “So I guess you’d have to squat or something.”

“Hmm … wouldn’t it be pretty hot to be riding one of their dicks while another one of them stuffed your mouth from above?” Jessica pondered it, not seeming to be very convinced of the idea. Parker, on the other hand, was still recovering from the whiplash from the stream of vulgar words coming out of the mouth of the woman with contrastingly angelic, pure visuals. “Or maybe they could spitroast you with your feet off the ground, or maybe even suspend you in midair while fucking you in both your pussy and your ass.”

“Hm … I’m pretty sure Hunter’s a little shorter than Parker, but the suspended spitroast idea sounds so hot…” Parker, no longer feeling comfortable with the conversation, slowly got up and off the couch, but before he could escape, Jessica grabbed ahold of his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Uh … bathroom?”

“Right there,” Jessica motioned towards Irene, who simply shot Parker a smile.

“What?”

“There’s your urinal,” she repeated, Irene opening her mouth in tandem.

Parker scoffed. “Wha-What are you even saying?”

“What she’s saying is that you’re free to use me like a toilet.”

Oh god, now there were two of them. He knew it—he knew it was a bad idea to let Jessica invite her friend into his apartment. Why was he so soft on her? “I’m not—” hearing Parker sigh caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles. “—you tw—what’s wrong with you, Jessica?”

“Huh? Were you about to ask Irene what’s wrong with her?”

“What?” Irene’s face took on an exaggerated look of offense. “How could you? All I did was offer my mouth as your urinal.”

“Like—” Even when there was one Jessica, Parker often found himself overwhelmed with how sexually and kinkily she spoke. “—I, like, I mean, you realize why that’s a really—” But now that there was a second one just as sexual and kinky, if not more so … how was he supposed to react? “—that’s, like, you know, not … normal … not a normal thing to say?”

Irene shrugged. “Normal’s boring.”

Oh. Was this where Jessica got that idea from?

“Right…”

“Well?”

“Hm?”

“You need to go to the bathroom, right?”

“No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use Irene’s mouth. I mean, I just met her, you know.”

“Oh, but she knows all about you.”

That couldn’t be good. How could he escape? But this was his apartment. Where could he even run to?

“I really don’t want to know—”

“She watched our porno.”

“God damn it, is there anyone you didn’t show that to?”

Jessica giggled. “Just like one or two more friends, don’t worry.” That was not the answer Parker was hoping Jessica would give him, but he figured he should be thankful it was only one or two more of her friends.

“Can I see it?” Irene couldn’t be talking about what he thought she might be talking about. There was no way. A woman he met just minutes ago for the first time … surely, she wasn’t asking to see his—“I want to see your dick for myself.”

Parker could only laugh. Ordinarily, having such a beautiful woman request such a thing would’ve been at least somewhat humbling, but given the situation, Parker couldn’t feel anything less than absolutely and utterly bewildered. Not only was it difficult to keep up with another Jessica, but the implication that something about the porno made Irene want to see his penis in person made Parker’s mind spin. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why that was, but now he had to grapple with that fact with the eager-eyed woman sitting on the other side of the couch from him. “Jessica, what…?”

“Oh, I forgot, you probably didn’t watch. There were some shots that made your penis look amazing, so I’d say Irene’s reaction is understandable.”

That wasn’t what Parker was trying to ask Jessica in the slightest, nor did he really understand Jessica’s explanation of Irene’s reaction, so he ended up just saying, “No, I—I’m, I’m not—I mean, I literally just met you, why would you want to go there already?”

Irene furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do I need to know someone for a while to see their dick?” Was she being serious? Either Irene was the best actress in the world, or she actually didn’t see an issue with her proposal. “I mean, people have one-night stands all the time, don’t they?”

“I mean—” Parker had to admit Irene had a point. But still … his brain was starting to hurt. It really was too much, trying to keep up with two Jessicas at the same time. “—no, I guess, but…”

“…But what? Did you want to see my tits first? I mean, they aren’t anything too impressive, especially compared to Jessica, but—” Parker stopped Irene as she moved to throw her short off.

“No! That wasn’t what I was trying to say. It’s just … I thought you came here to hang out with Jessica?”

“Um … I thought she invited me over to introduce me to you.” It was only then that Parker remembered Jessica mentioning introducing a childhood friend to him a week ago.

“Ah, right…” Thinking back on it, Jessica’s description of her at the time matched Irene pretty well: her figure wasn���t the best, but she was insanely beautiful. Parker just wished Jessica had given him a better heads up as to what kind of a person she was. Then again, she was Jessica’s friend. “…but that wasn’t the impression I got from Jessica.”

“…whoops, forgot to tell you?”

Parker rolled his eyes and sighed. “Well, now that you’ve introduced us…”

A brief silence followed in which the two ladies exchanged glances. Whatever telepathy that transpired between the two, the result was Irene saying, “I guess Jessica didn’t tell you much about me.”

Parker shook his head. “Sorry, not really.”

“Well, basically, all you need to know is that I have a breeding kink.” Again, Parker was caught off guard, letting out a hacking cough. “I came here because I want you to pump me so full of cum, my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby.”

That was a hell of a proposal, but what was Parker even supposed to do with it? Sure, Irene was definitely attractive enough to elicit a positive desire to acquiesce with that demand, but first off, why him, specifically? Was it because of that porno? The way she worded it … ‘my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby’ … Parker didn’t want to pry, but it almost sounded like Irene had tried multiple times before and had failed just as many times. But why would he have any better of a shot than all the other presumed guys she’s had in the past?

He felt like Irene was burdening him with a task, and the expectant way she was looking at him reinforced that.

“Ordinarily, I would want proof that you were tested recently for STIs, but since Jessica vouched for you, that’s not necessary. I have my own STI test report from last week in case you wanted to see it for yourself.” Irene handed him a bundle of papers that Parker briefly looked at—not that he was that interested in them, more so because he was so perplexed that looking at the bundle of papers placed in his hand was a reflexive action to being handed them. “Also, if you do manage to impregnate me, I promise to not burden you with child support. I can sign a contract if you’d like. I have one here,” she said, procuring another bundle of papers from her purse.

“Um…” Parker was overwhelmed, and this time, it wasn’t because of her eccentricity. It was almost like a business transaction, except it was one of those too-good-to-be-true proposals that had to be a scam. But if it was, where was the detriment to himself? This was Jessica’s friend, after all: would she try to scam a friend of her friend?

All this preparation reinforced his theory that Irene had done this with multiple other men, but aside from that, Parker didn’t know what else to think. Irene certainly seemed determined, even if she had said everything with the same jovial expression on her face. Thinking about the amount of times Irene must’ve tried and failed to become impregnated made him feel bad for her, even if he didn’t know why it was that Irene so badly wanted a child. But the question remained: why did he have to be the next one to try to knock her up?

“Come on, Parker—Irene’s giving you a free pass to fuck her until you’ve emptied your balls inside her. When’s the next opportunity to fuck someone like Irene without worrying about any consequences going to come up?”

Parker didn’t want to admit that Jessica had a point, but first… “Just to make sure—you aren’t in a relationship, right?” Irene shook her head. There was one concern gone, but with that, another arose. “Then … I’m sorry if this is insensitive, but do you mind telling me why you want a baby so badly?”

“Well, they’re so cute, aren’t they? Ever since I was little, I’ve loved kids, but guys don’t really like me, so I decided I’ll just raise one myself.” Parker didn’t believe Irene in the slightest when she said that guys didn’t like her, but there had to be a basis for that. What that was wasn’t Parker’s business to determine. In the corner of his eyes, he could also see Jessica shift uncomfortably a little, but he didn’t want to try to read into things. “Having sex with a bunch of different kinds of people is just a bonus. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with someone as huge as you, though.”

Parker almost felt like he had to accept Irene’s proposal, which was weird because no man in his right mind would reject a chance to have sex with her. If they had met at a bar and Irene proposed to go back to his place, they might’ve had a one-night stand even if he didn’t know her ultimate goal with the sex. But… “So … you brought Irene over to have sex with me?”

“…Yeah?”

Sometimes, Parker wished he could dive into Jessica’s head to figure out why she didn’t find it weird that she did this. If Parker had a nickel every time Jessica brought over a friend with the explicit purpose of getting the two of them to have sex, Parker would have two nickels, which wasn’t that many nickels but it was weird it happened twice. Or maybe it wasn’t weird, considering this was Jessica. Did this mean he could anticipate Jessica doing this more in the future? If he and Tiffany became a couple, what would that say about him as a boyfriend, even if Tiffany stated she was fine with being in an open relationship? At least right now, he and Tiffany weren’t an item, but if they ever did, could he, in good conscience, do this?

“You gotta stop pimping me out.”

“Well, think about it like this: you get to fuck a bunch of hot women, and my friends get to experience your cock. It’s a win-win!”

“So, is that a no then?”

At the point they were in, needing to talk about being exclusive to each other was implied, but with what Jessica said … of all people, Jessica, the best friend of the woman he was seeing, who so woefully begged Parker to take care of Tiffany well, telling him Tiffany said that it was fine for him to have sex with other women … and to top it all off, as much as Parker tried to stave off the feeling, he could feel himself getting turned on ever so slightly. Was he bad for feeling this way? It felt wrong in so many ways, but when such an amazingly attractive woman was pushing herself onto him like this, wasn’t feeling turned on natural? No, a man with principles would be able to turn her away. But, then again, a man of principles might also claim that it was a man’s duty to acquiesce to the demands of a woman in need, and Irene was presenting herself to him as exactly that. “Well, first of all, let’s move.”

Just as he moved to stand up, Irene pushed him back down onto the couch. “Nope. I’m way too horny now. Do you mind?” Irene asked, her fingers looping around his pants.

“Wha—um—” Not that he wasn’t used to very forward women, but the eagerness with which Irene situated herself between his legs stunned him for a second. “—n-no, I guess?”

Off came his pants and boxers, and out came his mostly-limp dick. “Ooh, wow…” Irene’s dainty fingers brushed against his member. Parker felt his lower half tense up, his dick twitching at the soft sensations of her fingers wrapping around his shaft. “You’re not even hard yet, huh?”

Shit. Parker wasn’t mentally prepared yet, so, scrambling to answer, he stammered out a, “not really.”

“Hmm…” Irene’s fingers wrapped more tightly around him. With each firm tug and jerk, the soft reproductive organ grew more and more erect. “It’s so beautiful, too…”

Parker blinked, then let out a chuckle. “What?”

“Isn’t it?”

Irene turned to Jessica, who nodded in response. “It is!”

“What…” the question died in his throat. Not that he’s seen many other penises, but Parker figured his was pretty average, appearance-wise. What about it was aesthetically pleasing? He knew he probably wasn’t going to get a very good answer though, so he let the question die in his throat.

“Wow, and it’s still getting bigger.”

Figuring it was pointless to continue ponder about the morality of the situation, Parker shifted his mind towards Irene. The slightly deeper breaths Parker was taking gradually turned into gasps and hisses, his erection hardening and growing with every stroke. “Mmm…”

The fact that Jessica was very avidly watching didn’t help at all. Parker shot her a glare, but she just responded with a confused expression, her drawn-together eyebrows asking him ‘what?’. He didn’t have high hopes that would drive Jessica away, but Irene didn’t even seem to mind. She continued stroking him, egging it on further by planting chaste kisses along its hardening length.

“You said it was … seven inches?”

“Yea—”

“Seven point five,” Jessica interjected.

Parker had felt it irrelevant to correct such a minute difference, but of course Jessica would know the precise measurement, and of course she would be the one to correct Irene.

“Oh, god … so this is what seven-point-five looks like, huh?” Irene said in marvel, staring at his now fully-erect penis.

“Yeah. How do you feel, finally seeing it in person now?”

Parker tried not to think about the implications of Jessica’s use of the word ‘finally’. He, for a brief moment, wondered if women talked about the porn they watched and if they used it, but knowing it was Jessica and a slightly smaller and less curvy Jessica, he realized it was pointless to even wonder about it. “It’s … amazing. I thought they must’ve spent some serious budget to make his cock look so mouth-wateringly appealing, but now I realize the camera didn’t do it justice.”

“This is so weird.”

“Hm? What is?”

Parker could only gape at the clueless Irene. “Wha-What? What isn’t?”

“Oh, I guess you would want me to at least do this shirtless, huh?”

“That’s not—” Parker’s interjection fell upon deaf ears, Irene proceeding to throw off her shirt and revealing her breasts. The loose top she wore hid how well-developed they actually were, but they still probably couldn’t fill Parker’s palm. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them, though: with its even paler, milky white color tightly stretching across her chest, each mound decorated with a golf-ball sized, light-brown areola with two equally squeezable-looking nubs sitting in the center, they were as pleasant a sight to look at as the rest of her. “—what I meant in the slightest, but ok.”

“Hm? What did you mean, then?”

“I mean, Jessica’s right there.”

“So?”

Parker shook his head. He should know better than to try to appeal to common sense with a Jessica. “Never mind.”

Irene gave him a smile, giving his shaft a few more firm pumps before saying, “You’re funny,” then swallowing his tip whole in one swift motion.

“Agh—” Irene didn’t stop until she was halfway down his length, and by then, he could feel her throat tightening around his cock. “—ah, Irene—”

Irene, on the other hand, had placed hands on either side of his inner thigh to stabilize herself, unable to respond except with a few gagging noises. Tears started welling up in her eyes the further she went down, suppressing her gag reflex when it reached deep enough. It felt like it would never stop, not that Irene wanted it to; she felt like she had completely unhinged her jaw, her nose almost pressing against his shaft. Being that she could only breathe from her nostrils, with every intake of air she took in, accompanying it was the musky smell of Parker’s cock, and that invigorated Irene even more. With how much space Parker was occupying her mouth, her tongue had no choice but to be firmly pressed against the underside of his dick, haplessly drooling all over it. She tried to pay as much attention to his balls while doing so, but the truth was, at some point, both Irene’s mind and her throat had become completely occupied with Parker’s penis.

“Ah, shit.”

“Wow, look at her go…”

Irene barley registered the fighting words of her friend, taking a few moments to steel herself before beginning to bob her head against his length. Another swear flew out Parker’s mouth at the feeling of her velvety tongue expertly gliding and coiling along his length, her throat flexing and tightening against his member like it was made to house him. However, if that was indeed the case, then the housing was grossly undersized: Irene still had a third left to go before she could claim to have taken in his entire dick with her mouth.

Part of Irene began to wonder how he’d fit inside her pussy. How far would he reach, how would it feel to have him cum that deep inside her? Irene’s pussy ached, translated in the increased vigor of her deepthroating of Parker.

“Irene, holy shit—”

Parker was doing everything in his power to keep her hands off her hair. While Irene’s impressive blowjob-turned-deepthroating felt amazing, and while she sank a bit deeper with each bobbing motion, having the little bit unattended left something to be desired. Even if she talked and acted like Jessica, it didn’t mean she wanted to be treated like her, nor did it mean he even felt comfortable doing so. The fact that, in watching her and experiencing what Irene was doing to him, he felt inclined to shove her face until her nose touched his crotch made him wonder if Jessica had become too much of a negative influence on him.

Like clockwork, as soon as Parker felt sufficiently warmed up to want to reciprocate, Irene came up for air.

“Wow, you almost got all of it by the end there.”

“Really?” Irene wiped the drool coming out of the corner of her mouth, but even as she did so, she looked insanely beautiful. It wasn’t the same pure-innocent beauty as from before: this time, it was more so a femme fatale kind of beauty, one that made you realize she was dangerous but in all the ways you didn’t care about.

“Yeah, you had like an inch to go, it looked like.”

“Hm…” Irene looked up at Parker with a grin. “Maybe next time, I’ll go for all of it.”

“…Right.”

Irene giggled at Parker’s confounded reaction. “How was my throat?”

“It felt…” Was it normal to ask the question so giddily? “…uh, it was good…?”

“Why do you never tell me that?”

“Well,” Irene said, ignoring her friend and climbing onto Parker’s lap, shooting a dazzling, seductive smile at him, “wait until you feel my pussy.” It should’ve hardly been a surprise that Irene talked this way, but it still caught Parker a bit by surprise. By the time he had processed it fully, Irene was already aligning his cock with her entrance. “Ready?”

“This is … shouldn’t it normally be me who’s asking you?”

“Oh, you won’t have to ask me if I’m ready.”

The next sound to come out of Parker’s mouth was a surprised moan, the feeling of Irene’s blazing hot sex wrapping around his cock overriding his ability to speak.

“Mmm…”

Irene had her eyes closed, a mixture of a bliss and lust on her face as she lowered herself onto him at an astonishingly quick pace—quicker than Jessica their first few times, if he remembered correctly. “Ah, Irene—”

“Wow, fuck you’re big…”

More than halfway down, Irene started to slow down, electing to rotate her hips and slowly grind her way down his shaft. It felt incredible, alright: the intense tightness with which her pussy squeezed his cock, the wetness that counteracted any resistance the tightness offered, the warmth, the way her pussy walls seemed to be massaging his shaft … but the fact that Jessica was right there, and he was inside a woman he didn’t even know an hour before lingered in the back of his mind. Irene didn’t seem affected at all, but it stuck in Parker’s mind: was this normal? It couldn’t be, right?

Who was he kidding, of course it wasn’t normal. Even one-night stands, picking up chicks from bars or meeting from Tinder or the like involved getting to know someone at least somewhat before getting to the sex. For Parker, he had been made aware of Irene’s existence for only a few minutes before his cock was already two-thirds of the way inside her. How much his sense of what’s normal dulled since he started spending time around Jessica … Parker didn’t even want to think about it.

“Wa-Wait, Irene…”

He could tell Irene was going considerably slower, and if she was in pain, she was doing an immaculate job of hiding it. The intensity her pussy was squeezing his cock, however, was teetering on the line of pleasure and pain. However, perhaps it was due to some kind of pride, or maybe it didn’t feel painful to her, or maybe it even was Irene wanting to brag about being able to take his entire length in one go to Jessica, but she didn’t stop.

“Hmm … mmm…”

The low rumble of Irene’s husky voice was a nice distraction to the burgeoning pain on his cock, but Parker still had to grit his teeth to endure it.

“Irene, please…”

Parker had hardly ever begged for anything in his life. Maybe there were some times when he was a kid, begging his parents to let him finish the gym battle in the Pokémon game he was playing or begging his parents for ice cream on a hot summer day, but his parents otherwise treated him well. His first couple of sexual encounters with Jessica was what broke his streak of not needing to beg for anything, but ever since she told him about her competition with Hunter, the need to do that vanished.

At this moment, that need reemerged.

“Too … it’s too tight…”

The plea seemed to translate into a compliment to Irene’s ears, though. “Yeah? You like how tight my pussy is?”

It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good at all, but a combination of things distracted Parker from the pleasure aside from the pain—namely, self-consciousness from the knowledge that Jessica was watching them and the fact that he and Irene were essentially strangers. Asking Jessica to leave wasn’t going to actually make her leave, and addressing the fact that he met Irene only minutes before didn’t seem like it’d affect Irene, so the only thing he could point out was the thing she was bragging to him about.

“N—Irene, slower, please…”

“Hm?" Parker’s hands cupped her cheeks and pushed upwards. “Oh!” Jessica let out a giggle as Parker lifted her up enough that the pain mostly subsided.

“You’re too eager, Rene.”

“Sorry…”

Irene shared a sheepish smile with Parker, who just shook his head at it. “Just, more slowly, ok?”

Irene nodded, and it was only after that when Parker realized what he had said: or rather, how casually he said it.

Being around Jessica really was messing with his capability to withstand a level of bullshit a normal person shouldn’t. Then again, a normal person would probably be willing to withstand more bullshit for the chance to have sex with Irene.

“Righty-do.” Parker blinked a few times, a bemused smile starting to play at his lips. “But you have to control the pacing this time, ok? Because I can’t promise I won’t do the same thing if you don’t.”

“Uh, right.”

When they resumed, Irene’s eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted again, something Parker couldn’t help but look at: of all the beautiful features perfectly placed on her face, her lips had to be the most alluring. Even when slightly parted, or perhaps even more so when they were slightly parted, they seemed to naturally form a pout.

He wasn’t dating Tiffany yet. Plus, according to her best friend, she was even fine with an open relationship. And said best friend, who seemed to be invested in the relationship between the two, introduced Irene to Parker for this exact purpose. This wasn’t cheating. He shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to lean forward and capture Irene’s perfect, kissable lips.

“Shit.”

“Ooh yeah, fuck…”

Irene, perhaps interpreting Parker’s frustrated groan as one of pleasure, responded in kind, gently biting the corner of her lower lip and throwing her head back.

Having sex with Jessica was one thing, but having sex with another woman, even if she was Jessica in another body … Parker couldn’t rid himself of the thought that he was betraying Tiffany, somehow.

“Deeper, babe…”

“…Shit.”

Tiffany didn’t seem the least bit phased when Jessica was riding him; in fact, she seemed intrigued more than anything. But then again, that was before they started seeing each other. Maybe now it would be different.

Was he thinking about this too deeply?

“Parker…?” Irene turned around, her eyes landing on the conflicted, downcast gaze of the man whose cock was inside her.

“Damn it. Jessica, are you really sure about Tiffany?”

“Oh, wait, Parker’s the guy Fany’s been seeing recently, right?” Jessica nodded. “In that case, we should probably send her some pic—” she abruptly cut herself off upon seeing Jessica hastily motioning for her to stop.

What? Was this some kind of extreme teasing? Did Irene hate Tiffany or something? Why would she propose such a thing? But, most of all, why wasn’t Jessica reprimanding Irene for suggesting them to do such a thing for what seemed to be their mutual friend?

“I was going to let Tiff tell him!”

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Ok—” Parker lifted Irene off his lap and set her down next to him. It was definitely strange, preparing to dive into a serious topic with his erection out for all to see, but this seemed too important to pass up. “—what? What kinds of pictures were you going to send her?”

“Um, sorry Parker, I need to ask her something first.”

“Just to be clear, were you talking about pictures of … of … this?” Parker didn’t intend to raise his voice, but he felt as though he had been deceived into playing some kind of cruel prank on Tiffany. Irene seemed so nice, so likeable, and so genuine, too.

“I can tell you what Irene meant by that, but first I need Tiff’s—” Jessica’s voice trailed off a little, her eyes darting back to her phone notifying her of a text message. “—um, Tiff’s permission.”

After finally blowing up on Jessica about what they had been doing behind Hunter’s back after nearly being caught by him on his balcony, Parker figured Jessica needn’t hide much else from him. Jessica, too, seemed glad to be cleared of that misunderstanding … but where did Tiffany play a part in this?

“Give me a little…”

Irene sat idly next to Parker, a clearly guilty expression on her face. That wasn’t the face of someone who wanted to do something mean to Tiffany. Or did she just look that way because she had been caught?

“…ok, I got her permission. You know how I told you Tiffany was fine with an open relationship, but didn’t elaborate?” Parker hesitantly nodded. He didn’t want to antagonize Jessica, nor Irene, too quickly, so he made sure to reign in any kind of animosity that was starting to form within himself. “Well, I figured Tiffany wanted to be the one to tell you, but now the cat’s out of the bag, and now that I got her permission, I’ll let you know. I actually do know why Tiffany’s fine with an open relationship: it’s because she’s … how should I put this, a voyeur?” Parker didn’t even know how to interpret that. “Hm … no…” but what did that have to do with anything? “…well, the bottom line is, she finds the idea of another woman fucking her man hot.”

Parker’s first reaction was to scoff at that. “What?”

“I know! It’s always the purest, most innocent ones that are the freakiest, huh?” In Parker’s eyes, Jessica had no grounds to say such a thing, but … looking into her eyes, there didn’t seem to be a hint of deceit. Not that he knew her well enough to be able to detect it. “Why do you think she asked me to watch that porno we shot?”

Shit … well, that did explain that one thing, given it was true.

“But…”

“I can show you what I just texted her if you want proof.” It felt like a violation of privacy of the woman he was seeing, but his curiosity got the better of him. He nodded, leaning forward, Jessica turning her phone’s screen toward him. Sure enough, the text exchange was with Tiffany, and Jessica was explicitly asking permission to tell him about that aspect about herself. What probably took Jessica a bit to inform him was the little bit of hesitation Tiffany showed, but when Jessica promised some pictures and videos of him fucking Irene, Tiffany buckled.

“Do … you have a single normal friend?!”

Jessica burst into laughter. “That’s rude! Aren’t you pretty much dating her?”

Parker groaned. On the side, he could hear the faint chuckles of Irene. “I mean…” he didn’t mean it like that. It was just a guttural reaction he couldn’t contain … but wasn’t it pretty normal? Actually, he shouldn’t justify that outburst like that. Admittedly, it was pretty awful of him to say such a thing about a woman he was seeing, but … well, at the very least, this was something he did not see coming. And he wondered why Tiffany was friends with Jessica; turns out, they maybe had more in common than he initially thought. “…yeah, but … wait, are you actually gonna send pictures to her?”

“Well, I promised, so … unless you’re unwilling?”

Parker almost laughed at that. Leave it to Jessica to just assume he was on board with such a ridiculous proposal. If it was something the woman he was seeing wanted … should he deny her? It wasn’t even like the idea that Tiffany was a cuck of sorts turned him off from her; maybe it was Jessica’s influence on him, but he saw it as nothing more than a quirk, albeit a pretty extreme one.

“Irene…?”

“Um…” Irene’s downtrodden gaze alerted Parker that she still felt bad despite things having been cleared up.

“It’s—” it was only then Parker remembered his dick was out, which he began to move to cover but stopped halfway. “—uh, it’s fine.”

“So … then, are you also ok with the pictures?”

Parker sighed. When did his life become so weird? “Yeah, I guess.”

At that, Irene’s eyes lit up. “Great!” Actually, maybe Parker was the weird one. Maybe his preference for missionary, and at most, doggy, made him the odd-man-out. “Then…” Irene sprung off the couch and repositioned herself in his lap, her hands resting on his knees while her ass hovered inches over his softening erection. Parker tentatively put his hands on her plump cheeks, spreading them out to see her still-glistening pink folds, drooling at the prospect of being torn open again by his cock. “…go ahead. Make me scream with that dick.”

[lavandulawrites]

Autonomy Of a Free Soul ch: 2

Chapter 2: An Eyepatch Wearing Gentleman

You find yourself in the meadow by the giant oak tree at Windrise. You have faint memories of falling into a well which is deeply hidden inside a cave by your home. You get captivated by the tune of the green clad man as he strung lyre high up in the tree.

Alone in a foreign world with hazy memorises, you are sure to encounter various obstacles you would never dreamt of facing. With some admirers with emotions and devotion deeper than what would seem possible, can your journey turn out peaceful?

Chapter 1

Synopsis: It’s your second day in Teyvat and you go out and try to find some work to do. After running a few errands, you met a tall man with an eyepatch covering his eye. His character gives you some indescribable chills…

Masterlist

(This is an yandere genshin men x reader fanfic that will have multiple chapters. This will be cross posted on ao3. It will partially follow the plot of genshin impact.)

Warnings: female reader, Kaeya is oddly eerie

Word count: 1112

The bustling streets of the city of freedom was a welcoming sight as you exited the apartment complex where Venti resided. You were headed towards the Adventures Guild in hope of getting some work to do. You were lacking in mora and what Venti had so kindly given you could only cover your lunch for today.

The Adventures Guild booth was cowered in various posters and maps. Behind the counter hung different trinkets and artifacts you had never seen before. The woman behind the counter was dressed in a green uniform with white frills.

She looked at you with a friendly smile. “Hello, welcome to the Adventures Guild. I’m Katheryne, how may I help you?” her hands were folded in front of her as she bowed.

“Hello, I’m [Name]. I’m new to town and I was wondering if you have some work available for me? It doesn’t need to be much, just so that I can earn some mora” you returned her friendly smile.

You crossed your fingers against your side in hope of her giving you some work. If nothing were available, you didn’t know what you would do. You couldn’t live off of Venti’s earnings. He had already done so much for you and you would hate to be even more indebted to him.

The black haired woman nodded. “We do. Though you would have to register yourself in the Adventures Guild. May I have your full name?” a block of paper was in her pale hands accompanied by a simple green pen. She waited for you to nod affirming before she explained to you what the Guild entailed and all the rules you would have to follow.

You nodded. You sighed your name onto the contract. [Name] [Last Name]. You handed her back the thick cream coloured paper that was off the highest quality.

“Running errands is something that you could as your first you within the guild. Are you in possession of a horse?” Katheryne asked you with a professional smile.

When you answered with a “no”, she nodded. “Alright. Leasing a horse could be rather expensive, so your tasks would have to be within the city. Is that alright with you?”

“Yes, that is alright.”

“Good. Then it’s settled” she handed you an envelope. “This is the list of errands. They’re mostly delivery. When you’re finished, come back here and you will get your payment.”

“Got it” you smiled. It seemed easy enough.

“Oh my, I almost forgot. Here” she handed you a thick little book “This is the handbook. I advise you to read it. There is also tales of previous adventures and tips and tricks that might help you along the way. Should it be necessary, of course”.

Katheryne bid you farewell and you ventured deeper within the city.

The tasks turned out to be rather simple and uneventful. After delivering the fourth package of wine, you begun wondering if they even had a mailman in Mondstadt. You would be sure to ask Venti later.

Your stretched your legs as you leaned your back against the backrest of the wooden bench you had decided to rest on. Your legs were sore from all the walking and your fingers were aching from all the carrying.

You scanned your fingers for any blisters, but to your luck there were none. Yet.

The sound of footsteps broke your new found tranquility. The faint sound of clinking followed. You raised your head at the sound, curious.

Your eyes met the lone eye of a blue haired man. His icy blue eye were bottomless and something deep inside you told you that if you weren’t careful, it would swallow you whole. In the middle of his eye were a star-like pupil. His other eye was covered by a gold trimmed black eyepatch that added to his enigmatic aura. His lips pulled up into a smirk as his eye took in your expression. The smirk turned into a grin when he saw the pale blush that dusted your cheeks. A playful chuckle escaped his lips. It was melodic and you could feel it play your delicate heartstrings.

The clinking came to an halt and you could then see the gold coin he had in his hand. He rolled it over his knuckles as he tilted his head. “I haven’t seen you around here before” his eye scanned your face in the search of something. What, you didn’t know.

“I just arrived” your voice was more silent than what you were aiming for and an unfamiliar icy feeling crept up your spine.

He nodded. “I see. I hope you are enjoying the city, darling” his voice had a distinct purr to it as his lips pulled back, revealing pearly teeth.

You forced a smile back as you swallowed. The rushing sound of your cold rushing files your ears and drowned out the blue haired man’s gentle humming. You couldn’t make sense of it, but there were something about him that had you on edge. It and your throat tighten ever so slightly and it formed a lump in your stomach.

He reached out his tan hand. His fingerless gloves of leather and were clearly high quality. “I am Kaeya. It’s nice to meet you” his purring voice almost hypnotic.

You reached out and took his hand. His grip was firm, firmer than necessary as it swallowed your hand. His skin was cold, but not uncomfortably cold. In the corner of your eye, you could see his light blue vision resting on his hip.

“My name is [Name]. It’s nice to meet you, Kaeya” your smile thin as you shook his hand.

He stared at you for while. Not letting go of your hand. When you tried to pull yours back, his grip only tightened like a boa snake. His smile only widened into a grin.

Fast footsteps got more and more audible as a knight weaved his hands over his head. “Captain! Captain! We got a situation in the eastern woods!” his yell breathless as if he had been running for a while.

Kaeya’s grin fell and he turned his head. His eye never leaving you. “I am coming” his flirtatious tone gone and replaced by a coldness that chilled you to the bone.

His hand released you.

“It seems that I must take my leave” he sighed “It was a pleasure meeting you. May we meet again soon” he smiled. He turned on his heel as he followed the knight. Kaeya waved over his shoulder in a nonchalant way.

You watched as his silhouette faded. Your goosebumps left with him, but the coldness of your veins stayed for a good while.

[revelboo]

Would it be okay for a chapter two for Sunder and reader? I love this mech and I wanna know how he'd feel with reader just blocking his access to their memories. Memoryblocked 🙏

Sure!

Whipped Cream Pt 2

Sunder x Reader

• Servos flexing, his smile grows strained. That you can shut him out unexpectedly fascinating. “So much fear. I understand,” he croons as you watch him. Tensed like you want to bolt, but there’s nowhere to go. And you are calming, responding unconsciously to his soothing voice to let him slip back inside your mind. Keeping his touch light so you won’t kick him out again as he shivers and delights in your fears, your dreams. “Poor little love, to wake up somewhere strange. Alone and afraid? I’m here now, though.�� Wants a taste of you, to touch you.

• That voice is crushed velvet stroking over you, almost hypnotic. Soothing the fear away until you want to find a way up there with him, curl up against him and rest safe there. That feeling of well being whispering through you even as there’s still the sense of something being very wrong jangling in the back of your mind. He shifts and the chains binding him clatter and you focus on that sound. “Chains,” you whisper, head lifting to find those blue optics. “Why are you chained down?” And when had you gotten so close to him? Hadn’t ever realized you’d moved, but now you notice the thin, sharp needles extended from his fingertips, skin crawling as they retract.

• “They don’t understand me. They fear me, but you have nothing to fear from me. I’d never hurt you,” he says, straining against his chains, hips lifting. You keep slipping out of his control, distracting him from gorging himself on your memories. Challenging him and it spreads like liquid fire through his lines. Goes straight to his spike. What would that feel like? To frag you while he gluts himself on your memories? Mnemonic needles slipping back out, his hips rock upward. Can’t reach his spike even if he freed it to touch himself. And the collar around his neck is keeping him locked mass displaced. A laughable attempt to mitigate how much of a threat he is, but this size? He could have you. “I’m so lonely for the feel of a hand in mine, little love.” So hungry. Starving and you’re deliciously tempting.

• The surface he’s chained to is taller than you are, but you’re almost certain you can jump enough to catch a chain and pull yourself up with him. No. Why would you want to do that? Cup his face between your palms and lean down to brush your mouth against his mindful of those spikes on his chassis. You don’t even know him, shaking your head, you press your fingers against your temples. “Stop that. Stay out of my head.” Because it’s him again. Screwing with you. Confusing you.

• “Such a clever, love.” Grinning, he laughs as you scowl. Oh, you’re going to be a delight to break, twisting you to his will. “I only want to touch you. Make you feel so good. You want that, don’t you? My body, my spike yours to use?” Sees your brow furrow, tastes your confusion, and he undulates his hips as much as he can bound, rocking his hips up and pretending he’s rutting against you and your face reddens. But you don’t look away.

Previous

[osohchoso]

Blood and Chains

Chapter Six- Bleeding Hearts

Choso x F!reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

Content: Multiple POV, trust issues, stalking, blood and violence, cursed techniques

You followed him in silence, the only sounds to be heard were the light drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by. Each step you took with careful confidence, doing the best to minimize the sound of boots scuffing on the concrete. Slinking around in the shadows as you followed your boyfriend through the city streets. Losing track of how long has passed and just how far you have wandered from your apartment. 

When Choso reached an alley, he stopped and looked around, maybe he had a feeling someone was tailing him, but you were out of sight. He hesitated, staring off in your direction for a second that felt like it lasted a year, before finally disappearing around the corner. Should I turn back? You question yourself over and over, frozen in place as you watch the darkness of the alley swallow him whole. But it's too late, your curiosity and fears have already pushed you this far. Might as well see this through to the end, or the anxieties in your mind will never forgive you. Staying a constant nagging fear, living in the back of your head. The only way to extinguish the dark storm plaguing your thoughts is to follow through with your personal mission. So you push on, entering the alleyway Choso walked down. The alley was even darker than the city streets. Not a single light to illuminate the path, no longer able to see the outline of his pigtails as you made your way through what you hoped was the correct way. 

As you walk, you bump into something hard, hitting your hip on a sharp corner. Shit. His clunky shoes stopped in their tracks, he heard the clamoring of the large item you ran into. Pressing your palm to the side, feeling cold metal and something sticky and rotten smelling stuck to it. A dumpster, you ran straight into a dumpster. Standing in fear beside it, you could almost feel his piercing gaze scanning you, even in the dark. Heart beating wildly against your ribcage, holding your breath. This is bad, this is so bad. Closing your eyes tightly, you hope and pray to whatever higher being is out there, that he can't see you in the darkness.

His thick shoes take one step closer to you, but by some wicked twist of fate, you are saved. The lid of the dumpster shakes, and a raspy meow of a street cat echoes off the alley's brick walls. The click-clack of its untrimmed claws on the pavement grows quieter as it walks further away from you, toward the direction of Choso. He lets out a low chuckle, his clothing crinkling as he lowers himself to the ground.

“You scared me little one,” he whispers. The cat's loud purr fills the air. Even during your distrustful stalking, you can't help but smile. Finding it cute how your secretive boyfriend stopped to pet a stray cat on his late-night stroll. “Was it you following me all along?” He asks the cat. The cat responds with a loud meow, rubbing its head harder into Choso’s petting hand. 

“Go home,” his voice brings you back to reality. A shiver runs down your spine that you try to suppress. You're not sure if he's talking to you or the cat at this point. Surely, he has no idea that you're there hiding beside the dumpster? Muscles tense, not daring to move an inch. You half expected him to say something more, to call your name out and question you. It isn't until you hear his footsteps pick up again, that you realize you're in the clear. The clunk of his shoes grows quieter as he makes his way through the alleyway. You wait until you can barely hear him before you make another move.

The cat turns and makes his way toward you, purring as it rubs around your ankles. Bending slightly, you scratch him under his chin. Feeling the greasy fur and flea bites, typical of an alley cat.

“Thanks,” you whisper, “I promise to come bring you treats, you saved my skin.” You tell the cat, who lets out a content meow in response like he understood every word you just said before he jumps back up on top of the dumpster. 

This is so stupid. Hesitating before you follow him once again. Hearing Choso's words replay, go home. And you almost listened, almost turned your body toward the way you came and let your feet carry you back to the safety of your home. 

But you didn’t.

You push forward through the alley and spot Choso on the other side. Walking on a beaten-up sidewalk that leads to a neighborhood. This time you are even more careful, creating a bigger distance between him as you follow. However, it seems he is more relaxed now, not constantly checking over his shoulder to see if he's being followed. Walking quicker than before. You wonder if he knows he's on the bad side of town, if that's why he's picking up pace. You were always careful to avoid this street, not wanting to get caught up in the violence you've seen on the news. 

As you continue, you follow Choso through the neighborhood. Many of the houses look abandoned and worn down. Which confuses you, why is he here? What could be so important about this place that he had to abruptly leave you? You continue to follow, a few of the homes you pass do have lights on, signs of life inside. Though even the lived-in houses look just as bad as the abandoned ones. 

He finally stops, pausing in the front yard of a large house, lights on inside but the tattered curtains are drawn. Whose house is this? You crouch down behind an overgrown bush at the edge of the yard as you watch him stand there. Blood roaring in your ears as you jump to conclusions. He’s cheating, he's just like the other men. Hot tears prick your eyes as you wait to see the woman he left your home for. 

“Hey!” Choso’s head turns to the sound of the voice and you follow his line of sight. Instead of seeing a pretty woman, you see the cheerful pink-haired boy.

Yuji.

And now you have even more questions than before.

Yuji approaches his older brother, too far away for you to hear their conversation. You know Choso well enough by now that you can read his body language, his shoulders slightly slumped, his weight shifting back and forth between his feet. He's irritated. If it's directed at his brother or something else, you have no clue. You can hear the loud sigh leave Choso’s lips from your hiding place. The two boys then turn and enter the home, leaving the door wide open. As you watch them disappear into the house, guilt immediately floods you. Guilt for not trusting him, for thinking he would cheat. Still not sure what he's up to with Yuji, but you are now certain it's nothing concerning you. Maybe he really was on a last-minute call for his work.

You should have turned and left the second you saw them turn their backs, but you still had more questions. And maybe, if you stayed and observed just a bit longer, maybe there would be answers.

So you stayed, watching from the bush as you heard them run around inside the house. Incoherent shouting. The curtains hanging in the windows blowing as they run past. A splatter of blood decorates the downstairs window like a Jackson Pollock painting. Maybe your theory about Choso being an assassin wasn't so far off after all. Though it's hard to believe, golden retriever boy Yuji is also caught up in this line of work. Another thick splotch of blood hits the glass, causing you to flinch. I shouldn't be here. The danger of the situation really starts to sink in. 

Rising to your feet quickly, you give the house one last look. Not wanting to stick around and see the faces of the victims inside. Or to see the look on Choso’s face when he realizes you followed him all the way here. 

Too late for that.

Choso stands in the doorway, his eyes on you. Shouting your name as he begins to run out of the house in your direction. His voice loud enough to shake the earth you stand on, but not out of anger. Out of fear. From the corner of your eye you see a hunch-backed humanoid figure rushing toward you on long legs. It's moving at incredible speed, Yuji running behind it as he reaches forward. His fingers trying to grasp purchase on its wrinkly pale skin. Yet the creature remains faster as it barrels toward you. Yuji’s eyes wide with terror while the three eyes of the creature twinkle with blood lust. 

Everything happens in slow motion, your blood roaring in your ears as you stand still. A deer caught in headlights. Unable to do anything but watch. Watch as the terrifying monster runs at you, its arms shaped like curved blades. Watch as Yuji tries and fails to reach for it again and again. Watch as Choso cries out your name, sounding as fearful as you feel. You look down at your feet, trying to send a signal to move. Knees daring to buckle beneath you when all you want to do is run away.

A sharp press to your back, a pain like you've never felt. Still looking down, you can't seem to tear your eyes away as you watch a deep hole open up in your abdomen. The blade cut straight through to the other side, accompanied by unbearable pain. The once pale green skin of the creature now a deep crimson from your blood. Red drops pool on the flattened grass below your feet. The sounds of the world cut out, muffled and numb. Like your ears are underwater. You lift your gaze up and find Choso, his face paler than ever before and his face tattoo almost looks distorted and sharper, crossing over his eyes as he glares at the creature with unmatched anger. The last thing you see is him standing across the yard, his palms pressed together as his mouth moves. Your heavy eyelids flutter shut as the head of the creature explodes, painting your hair in warm blood. The blade arm exits your body and you feel Yuji catch you before you collapse to the ground. 

“Choso…I’m sorry” you manage to weakly get out before completely losing consciousness. 

˚　　　　✦　　　.　Choso's POV　 . ✦　　 . ★⋆.

~A few minutes before~

Choso looks down at the purple skin of the transfigured human as it stills on the ground, blood leaking from the fatal wound he gave it. The call was right. Mahito had been here. This poor family had enjoyed their last dinner together before the curse waltzed in and transformed them all. Choso sighs as he checks the time. He was thankful for Yuji meeting him here. The faster the brothers took care of the two curses, the faster he could get back to his girlfriend. He really wanted to send Yuji on his own and stay home with her, but the risk that Mahito could still be around scared him far too much to ditch him. Yuji runs down the stairs toward him, his shoes hitting each step loudly.

“Finished yours off?” Choso asks. Yuji nods, though there is a touch of sadness. No matter how many times he does it, having to end the transfigured humans always seems to break a piece of him.

“Yup. Was kinda a small one, so it wasn't much trouble.” He claims. Yuji bends down to pick up a family portrait that fell from the wall, his thumb smearing the blood across the glass to reveal the picture underneath. It shows three of them. Mother, father and a young girl. 

“Choso…” Yuji trails off, eyes wide. Choso takes a step closer as Yuji turns to him. “I think there is a third-” Yuji can't even finish his sentence before a tall pale green figure runs out the back door. Yuji instantly drops the frame, glass shattering as it hits the floor, and chases after it. Choso lets out an exaggerated sigh as he walks toward the front door. He’s confident Yuji will finish it off, but just in case, he wants to prepare for backup. Just one more and he can return home to you. 

You, who should be back safely at home, snuggled into your blankets as you await his return. You, whose beautiful eyes stare at him across the yard as you stand from behind a bush. Choso blinks. Once. Twice. Hoping you would disappear like a figment of his imagination. Three times, and you're still here. He can’t imagine why or even how you knew where he was. Did you follow him? Do you not trust him? He should be angry, but he's not. Not when he knows the weight of the situation you're now involved in. He’s absolutely terrified. 

From his peripherals, he sees Yuji chasing after the transfigured human, running straight toward you. His worst nightmare, this is why Choso swore off relationships. He didn’t want you hurt because of him and his dangerous lifestyle. He shouts your name, as loud as possible. Hoping that will activate your fight or flight, hoping you pick the latter and you can run faster than you did the day he found you in Shibuya. Yet you don't move, still as a statue.

He cries your name over and over, desperate for you to move as he quickens his pace toward you. Vocal cords straining as he tries to reach your thoughts hidden away in the unmoving husk of your body. Yuji is gaining on it but this transfigured human has longer legs, moving at a slightly faster speed. It's going to be close, unable to tell if Yuji will reach it first or if it will reach you first. Choso is rushing forward, but the wet sound of the blade stabbing through the left side of your stomach makes him pause. Time froze as he stared at you, the gaping wound and the creature's sharp arm stuck through it. This is worse than a nightmare, this is a living hell. 

No…no no no no no! This can't be happening, this isn't real! His breath is caught in his throat. Narrowing his eyes at your attacker, he sees red. He hasn't felt this angry in a long time. Clapping his palms together, fingers pointed at the head of the transfigured human, gathering all his strength. 

“Piercing Blood!” He releases the condensed beam of blood, shooting straight through the middle eye of the creature. It’s head explodes on impact, coating the back of your hair in thick, sticky blood. Yuji pulls the transfigured human away and catches you in his hands, gently lowering your body to the already red-stained grass. Choso hurries forward, falling to his knees before you.

“Choso…I’m sorry” He barely hears the words leave your dry cracked lips. 

“This can't be happening…this isn't happening” he mutters to himself, picking up one of your hands and holding it in his. “Yuji, tell me this isn't real,” he lifts his gaze to his brothers, tears already streaming down his cheek. Yuji frowns, dropping his gaze to the serious wound. 

“It is, Choso.” He can't lie to his brother, not when you're bleeding out right here in front of both of them. “I’ll call Shoko, she should be able to save her.” Yuji says, gently adjusting you so your head lays on Choso’s lap. Then standing, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and dialing Shoko, pacing in the yard a few feet from Choso.

Choso is holding your hand tightly, trying to get you to wake up and say something, anything. He doesn't understand why you are here, why you were apologizing. But he doesn't care. He just wants you back, alive and safe. Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh. He needs you back.

“Wake up, little flower.” He whispers, bending to place a soft kiss on your brow. “Please…please…wake up, stay with me. I ca-can’t lose you,” his voice cracking as he pleads for you. Tears rain on your cheeks as he watches your lifeless expression. 

Your hand grows cold in his blazing hot palm, fading further and further. No, no. Not again. Please not again. Choso looks over at Yuji who is still talking to Shoko. 

“We are losing her!” Choso cries out.

“Shoko is on her way” Yuji does his best to stay calm, not wanting to heighten Choso’s anxieties further. 

“There is no time, she is losing too much blood!” He’s yelling back at him, there is no calming him as he eyes the deep wound in your stomach. Blood oozing out. “She…she’s not going to make it.” Choso swallows hard.

“She will, Shoko is hurrying. She will be here soon I promise,” Yuji assures him, even though he isn't certain. He truly doesn't know if you are going to be fine. But Choso panicking more isn't helping anyone. “Hmm? Yeah, I'm still here.” Yuji continues pacing as he talks to Shoko, giving directions to their location. Choso looks down at you, watching each shallow and labored breath, seeing the last signs of life drain from your face.

There has to be something I can do. He tries to think of an idea, he knows you won't last another five minutes unless he can do something. He racks his brain trying to formulate a plan, willing to try anything if it means he won't have to watch you exhale your last breath in his arms.

Then, he forms an idea. Maybe a stupid one. Maybe one that won't work. Honestly, it might get you killed or worse. The risks are high, with maybe a 1% chance your body will respond positively. Choso doesn't care, he would take any risk if it meant he doesn't lose you today.

He glances over at Yuji, his back turned to the both of you. He doesn't bother asking his brother for his opinion on this plan because he already knows what Yuji would say. No.

But you need blood, now.

Choso grips one of your hands tightly with his, holding the other hand up, palm to the starry sky. Gathering his blood into a small sphere in the center of his palm. Taking a shaky breath before he begins.

He's never attempted using his blood manipulation for a blood transfusion before, and certainly never even considered doing this on a regular human. His blood is considered poisonous, and if this doesn't work he may be the reason you end up dying. Desperate for any chance at life, even a slim chance that the toxin won't instantly kill you, he takes the risk. If he can give you just enough until help arrives, just enough to replace what is necessary, you may survive. Afterward, Shoko can probably just give you something to counteract the negative effects. He doesn't think too much about the consequences of his cursed blood and won't allow him to think about what it might do to you.

He places his palm with the sphere of blood to the hole in your stomach. Letting his blood mix with your own. Flowing freely through your body, traveling to every limb and organ. Filling you with life, his life. He would give his whole life for you if he could, if he knew it would keep you breathing. Wouldn't even hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. He closes his eyes as he takes control, his blood pushing alongside yours. Mixing inside you like a cauldron creating a potion of endless love. His other hand, the one clutching yours like a lifeline, starts to feel a hint of warmth radiating from you again. A sign you have been granted at least a few more minutes of life, hopefully, that's enough until a real doctor can stabilize you. 

“Choso?” Yuji’s shocked voice cuts into his thoughts, causing him to flash open his eyes. Twisting his head to look over at his brother, whose eyes are wide with horror. Mouth agape as he witnesses the act.

“What have you done?” Yuji asks him.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @angel04-01

[aettuddae]

high garden academy — chapter 58.

⟢ synopsis: a new school year begins at the high garden academy boarding school, bringing with it new students, and among them, the new center of attention for the drama-thirsty student body: the hong sisters. eunchae and her mysterious and unsympathetic older sister, daein, who oddly seem uninterested in the secrets, legends, and gossip of their new school. winter, the institution's top student, and karina, the popular girl and promising pianist, never imagined they would end up so closely involved with hong daein.

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[written chapter]

[a/n: i haven't updated in ages so if from now on there are profile pictures/anything that changes in any way, it's because i couldn't find the previous ones]

the yu's house was gigantic, more rustic and traditional than what daein expected to find. nowadays all the houses of families with money looked like hospitals, white floors and walls, little decoration, no life. daein didn't like that kind of residences, sometimes she considered she had an old soul, and it was partly because she felt more comfortable in places like that. the high garden building seemed extremely nice and cozy, although she hated being in there, it was like a big museum where you could also live, practically a dream. the yu's house also gave her that feeling, it even reminded her a bit of her own house, although it seemed less like a medieval vampire castle.

unfortunately, daein could not inspect the home as she would like, spending time on the details and the probably expensive antique decorations, her brain was having great difficulty functioning properly, she could not concentrate either on the scenario she was in or on the numerous questions she was being asked by the couple who owned the house, stammering out answers that almost sounded coherent that she put together with the little willpower she had left based on the few words she retained. karina was doing god's work completing her sentences and making sense of them, justifying her attitude by saying she was shy or nervous. all her attention was on her own body, on the headache that seemed not to have stopped for days, the sweat that had no reason to appear as it wasn't hot enough, the nausea that hit her from time to time making her inspect the place to identify the quickest way to the bathroom in case she had to vomit. of course, some of that could be caused by lack of sleep since she hadn't rested well in the past three days, and she didn't even feel like thinking about the heat that invaded her chest every time she had to suppress the urge to yell at karina to shut up since lately she couldn't stand anyone, least of all her, or having to avoid rushing the girl's father who spoke extremely slowly.

daein was a complicated person, bitter to say the least, but this was already getting out of hand. she was never someone who lost her patience so quickly, although it could be because of her physical discomfort which was also a particularity of this stage of her addiction.

but she didn't use strong substances, did it make sense for her to feel this way? maybe she was just sick.

of course it didn't matter because she had to stay sober for...

for some reason she couldn't remember.

jennie? this dinner? sehun? oh, eunchae. she had to do it for eunchae. was it for eunchae at all? why was she putting her body through this? nevermind, there had to be some good reason, it was probably for eunchae, wasn't it?

still, she did know why she couldn't think straight, one thing being karina's hand resting on her lower back as they both sat on an elegant sofa in a corner of a room specifically dedicated to tea. her other hand rested on her leg, while with the one her parents couldn't see the girl pinched daein's skin as if trying to wake her up or nag her for her erratic behavior. the younger one disguised her correctives with displays of love and hong was not fascinated by either.

"aeinie." she hated that nickname with all her might, but she still turned to look at her. "do you want to see the piano?" the girl's expression at the suggestion of that was somewhat frightening, like when as a child you got reprimanded by your teacher and she had to disguise the anger so as not to lose her friendly image, but only achieved a hybrid that scared you more.

"will you play for me?" she asked expressionlessly, she didn't know what the fuck was happening to her body, but that karina played the piano she did remember, idiot.

the blackhaired faked a tender expression, dropping her shoulders and her eyebrows, she moved closer, and gave a kiss on her cheek. "sure, i'll play something for you." she agreed, standing up and extending her hand to her.

"food will be ready soon, go and we'll let you know." announced the girl's father as daein grabbed onto her to get up, they both nodded slightly.

"what did you consume?" sentenced with a forceful tone the youngest whispering when they were already a little bit away from her family.

"nothing." she was at a loss, the words seemed to come out of her mouth at random.

"daein." she shot her an accusatory look.

"i didn't use anything." she reiterated. "that's why i'm like this." she explained after letting out a drawn-out sigh. "but it will pass." rather than trying to calm karina down, she seemed to be trying to convince herself.

she looked her up and down, finding the sweat on her neck and recalling having seen somewhere that this must be a symptom of abstinence, although she wasn't sure. because of the state she was in, she had no choice but to believe her. daein was usually lost and didn't make much sense, but at this moment she was worse, even anguished, anxious, which was rare to see in her. she hoped her parents hadn't noticed from across the coffee table.

without saying more, she walked over, leading her with her clasped hands, approaching the long, elegant brown grand piano with lines effect, there being some darker ones, indicating it was macassar ebony wood. karina took a seat first on the stool that was wide enough for daein to enter as well, so this one followed the younger girl's steps and sat with her.

"do you know anything about piano?" the expert inquired putting her hands on the keys and stroking some of them creating a vague ephemeral sound.

"my mom plays the piano." she commented, her eyes inspecting the instrument. "she's not professional or anything, but she plays sometimes."

"you appreciate your mom a lot." she observed.

"isn't that what all children do?" she said with obviousness.

"i guess." she cocked her head to the side as if that would help her think her words better. "my mom tends to get overshadowed by my dad's presence." she mumbled in fear of being overheard.

"i understand." agreed the older one. "mine too."

"i see we have something in common." she smiled sideways, victorious.

"unfortunately." she grumbled, grimacing in disappointment. "but she's still my mother, you know." she continued.

"no, of course, i know what you're talking about." she sat up in the seat. "if mom wasn't around i think i'd go crazy." she laughed softly.

"bonding with parents must be more complicated when you hardly see them during the year." daein assumed, turning her head to give her a look.

"yes." she shook her head accompanying the statement. "since i've been attending high garden since i was little, there are teachers i've seen more these past few years than my father." she admitted with a downcast attitude. "i'm sure most of my baby teeth are in some jar in teacher jeon's office." they both laughed at the image. "hey! i made you laugh!" celebrated the younger exalted girl.

"it doesn't count, i'm dying." she stopped her, causing her to pout.

silence fell over the place and before allowing it to become uncomfortable, jimin began to play a piece on the piano, her fingers strolling comfortably across the keys as if she had no bones to constrain her. it was a rather slow melody, but still complicated, daein watched her hands without understanding how someone so young could have such ease in playing such a complex instrument. it wasn't melancholic, it sounded like a summer ballad, positive, hong had no idea what song it was, but she was mesmerized, it was the first time all day she could pay attention to anything.

slowly karina's fingers paused as she played the last few notes until the lack of sound returned to the room, but far from discomforting, it represented a missing of words. daein hated wanting to compliment her on her talent, but she had to admit she had loved it.

"you're good." she criticized. "very good."

"it's one of the works i'm supposed to play at the korean music contest." she reported casually. "i should do well." she sounded a little pressured and it made sense, not just anyone was representing one of the most prestigious schools in the country in the most important national music contest among students. "did you learn anything from your mother?" she removed her hands giving daein room to play.

"little, actually." she directed her hands to the piano and hesitantly pressed several keys without much sense, according to the blackhaired she was trying to play a rather messy version of ode to joy.

realizing that she didn't remember what the song was like at all and noticing the horrified look on the pianist's face next to her, daein preferred to stop trying, generating some sympathy in the girl next to her, who with a confident smile stood up and walked to stand behind her, leaning a little until she could reach her hands, her chest resting against daein's back and their cheeks just a few inches away from brushing against each other. she positioned daein again on the keys and began to guide her so that at a leisurely pace, but not as awkward as before, she could play the song she had attempted.

what irony hong daein playing the ode to joy.

daein was using all her energies to focus, if there was something that moved her it was the need to complete things and do them well, and maybe that was one of the causes of her deep sorrow, not being able to do anything right in this last time of her life. she couldn't even stand the discomfort she felt at the lack of doping. she followed karina's indications as well as her condition allowed, failing in some notes, skipping others, but in general sounding as she should, which must have been all the responsibility of her puppeteer.

with some difficulty the song ended, a small smile on both faces, one out of pride at having completed the piece no matter how easy it was or how many mistakes she had made, and the other because she was distractedly enjoying the closeness with the older one. neither having noticed that they came even closer than before, completely entangled with each other, their cheeks pressed against the opposite, jimin's arms almost embracing daein from behind. the blackhaired moved her head slightly so that her nose could rub hong's cheek, closing her eyes to enjoy the fact that she wasn't moving away, nodding her head slightly up and down. she lifted her hands from the piano and used them to hold onto her neck completely, wrapping her in her grip.

daein let herself be carried away by the tender gestures, and leaned her head more and more towards her own shoulder, following karina's touch, her eyelids drooping and preventing her from seeing that this was the same girl who used to drive her crazy all the time. her face was predisposed to the younger girl, who now that they were facing each other was caressing her nose with her own.

after all daein was not in her five senses and was someone who would do anything for a simple token of affection,

so she didn't stop jimin when this one captured her lips between hers, slowly, delicately, more than a kiss it was caresses between their mouths, with trouble to detach, to cut the touch. karina always wanted more of daein, once she kissed her, she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again, so being like this with her felt fulfilling, and more exciting than kissing anyone else she'd ever done it with before.

she didn't understand why, but no one seemed to have such soft lips as daein, and no scent was as satisfying to be smothered by as daein's was. she was such a cruel person, she rarely showed any pity for her, but when she kissed her no one was as tender as daein.

needless to say, she was exaggerated and restlessly obsessed with hong daein.

their mouths were entwined, daein's hands had risen to hold and attend to jimin's resting on her collarbone, their tongues were just now wanting to meet, but they never got to. "jiminie, the food-" the housemaid suddenly came in interrupting them. "oh, sorry." she covered her cheeks in embarrassment with amusement on her face, the two younger girls looked at her uncomfortably, separating immediately. "the food is ready."

(!)

— taglist [open] : @yoontoonwhs @gayforalll @hwm1hyun @jisooftme @gornoi @eunhhh @petruchiosstuff @linnnsworld @xen248 @trueblumarinegf @rinapomu @imahallucination11 @thefckghost @myouiiiiiiii @blaymine @chaewoni3 @aliceiwk @gfriendsapple @sewiouslyz @multiliker @cwpiqwon @pandafuriosa60

[selenophany]

Chapter 27 , Aeon Reforged

[sskk-manifesto]

Finally got around to watching ep 11 (´；ω；｀)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 7 : Sweet Strawberry

Summary: You're not a soldier, you're just an omega. You shouldn't have to remind them of that, yet you find yourself needing to. Price makes it up to you in the best way possible.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, fluff, suggestive content, terrible flirting

A/N: Not entirely happy with it but it's done and I can move on from this one. I struggled so much with this chapter omg. Also, I just wanted to make it clear that I am not from the UK, I've never been to the UK, I'm simply going off of prior knowledge and what Google can tell me. So, if there's any inaccuracies, I am so sorry.

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You’re expecting the knock when it comes. You’d been standing in front of your door for almost five minutes, and you get it open almost before he’s finished, hand still raised. He gives no sign that betrays his surprise, if he feels any at all, instead he simply looks you over before turning on his heel and marching towards the door. 

You close your door behind you, slipping down the hallway after him. It’s raining again, though you had prepared for that, flipping the hood of your jacket up as you hurry after Ghost. He threatens to disappear in the darkness of morning, slipping between the street lamps like a specter. It’s not often you get to see the true danger in them, the threats that they pose, the things that make them good at their job. You can imagine how many on his opposing side have been caught unawares by the way he seems to flow with the darkness around him. 

You are significantly less graceful and quiet, feet slapping the wet pavement as you speed walk to keep up with the giant alpha. You can almost imagine the look on his face as you plod along behind him. If your lives depended on your silence at this moment, well, it wouldn’t entirely have been your fault. If he didn’t walk so fucking fast...

He’s at least courteous enough to hold the door open for you, though perhaps that was simply something that was deeply ingrained in him. Manners that become unconscious practice, even when you despise the person you’re with. He leads you down the hall towards the practice room again, unlocking it and flipping on the lights. He empties his pockets and removes his shoes and sweatshirt, before moving to one of the punching bags. 

You can already predict what your lesson today will entail. Your knuckles have almost completely healed since your little fit a week ago. You quickly strip off your jacket and toe off your wet shoes, moving to join him without having to be told. 

“Do you know how to wrap your hands?” He asks, holding out two rolls of hand wraps. 

“No.” You shake your head. It’s not entirely true. They had shown you once while you were with the CIA, but that had been weeks ago and you’re sure you’ve forgotten the right way to do it. Even if you tried, he’d likely sigh and do it himself anyway. 

He lets out a breath, pocketing one of the wraps before grabbing your right wrist. His hands are just as rough as you remember them being the day you punched Corporal Allen, calluses dragging against your skin as he meticulously wraps the fabric around your fingers. You watch him, trying to memorize how to do it in hopes that maybe, eventually, you’ll surprise him and manage it yourself. 

He finishes your hands quickly before wrapping his own. You flex your hands, trying to get used to the feeling of the wraps. They’re not too tight, shockingly. You had half expected him to choke your fingers until they’re purple just because. But, you also know Price will be looking for any mark or sign of injury as soon as he sees you at breakfast. The thought of him laying into Ghost for even a bruise as your stomach twisting, and not in a bad way. 

“Make a fist.” Ghost says, crossing his arms as he stands in front of you. 

You stare at his bulging muscles for a second too long, quickly curling your fingers as your face warms. 

He takes hold of your hand, inspecting your fist. “Not bad.” 

“I did grow up with brothers.” You murmur. 

“Did they ever hit you?” He asks as he turns you to face the boxing bag. 

“Only playfully.” You say, missing the subtle edge to his voice. “Dad would have caved their heads in if they ever tried.” 

You can’t see the way he’s staring at you as he stands slightly behind you, but you can feel his gaze as it lingers for just a second longer than you expected it to. You’re not sure if maybe he doesn’t believe you, or maybe he knows there’s more to the story. You’ve hardly spoken about your family since your arrival, but they seemed to accept the fact that they haven’t been your family for years now as a valid reason.

“Get into your fighting stance.” He finally says, moving around you as you take the stance you had perfected last training session. “Good.” He says, looking you over. “Now throw a punch at the bag.” 

You squeeze your fists, imagining Corporal Allen’s face on the bag before you throw a punch, barely managing to move the bag. 

“Punches like that are what will get you hurt.” Ghost says, extending your arm. “You can throw your weight, which is good. That’s why you were able to throw Allen off his feet. You’re asking for a broken arm, though. Keep your arm flat and facing downwards through the entire punch. Aim with the knuckles and twist your lower body for support.” 

He throws a punch at the bag, the sound of his fist hitting it loud, and you watch the bag swing back and forth violently. He could probably punch through you if he wanted to. Your pitiful punch wouldn’t even stun him. 

He stops the bag from swinging, having you throw repeated punches at it. He fixes your form and technique as you go, teaching you different kinds of punches. Your arms quickly get tired, and you know you’re going to be sore again. Maybe you should take up some weight lifting or something. You could ask Soap to help you. 

You go until your arms feel like they're going to fall off, your shoulders burning. “I can't anymore.” You whine, breathing heavily from the exertion of throwing punches for 30 minutes. 

“You have to learn to push through the pain.” He says, looming over you. “You think in a fight, everyone will just stop because your arms are tired? Or you're a little sore?”

He has a point. 

You take half a step back as he invades your space, leaning down close to you. “If they're out for blood, they won't even stop even as you're bleeding out in front of them.” His eyes are dark, biting into you, speaking volumes of his knowledge and experience. You wonder how many times he's been in that situation, how many times he's had to fight quite literally for his life. He steps away from you, moving towards the center of the mat. “Come on. I'll teach you some combinations.” 

You don't want to follow him. You want to curl up in a corner and nap for the next four hours. You don't doubt he'll find a way to force you, though, so you move to the center of the mat with a sigh. 

He teaches you different combinations, working through them over and over. You're sloppy, mixing up which punch is which, which move means what. It only gets worse as you get more and more tired, but Ghost is relentless. 

Finally after almost an hour and a half of training, he calls it. Your legs are shaking and you can barely lift your arms to unravel the wraps from around your hands. You sink onto the floor, laying out flat on the padding as you try to catch your breath. 

“Come on.” Ghost says, lacing up his shoes. “You'll have time to shower before breakfast if we get back now.”

“Wait. Just gimme a minute.” You breathe, not even sure you have the willpower to get up from the floor, much less the muscle power. 

He lets out a sigh before approaching you, bending down to slip his hands under your arms. “On your feet, soldier.”

He lifts you easily, far too easily. Your legs shake, nearly giving out as you're forced onto them. You pout, ignoring the ache in your bones as you're forced upright. 

“‘M not a soldier.” You murmur. 

“In here with me, you are. You want to learn to fight, you get treated just like everyone else I've taught.” He says, glowering down at you. “Now get your shoes on and let's go.”

Your brows pull into a frown, but you do as he says, slipping your shoes back on and your jacket. You had hoped perhaps he would have a little mercy, given your status and inexperience, but it seems you're not even being awarded that. You know part of it is his revenge for you invading his protective circle around Soap, for kissing Soap in front of him. 

The frown doesn't leave your face as you follow him back to the barracks, having to almost run to keep up with him. 

“You look tired.”

“I am. I had training with Ghost again this morning.” 

“How is that going?”

“It's hard.” You admit, sinking back in your chair. “He's hard on me. He sees me as a soldier, not an omega.”

“Have you brought this up to him?” Dr. Keller asks, crossing her feet as she relaxes on the couch across from you.

You nod. “Yeah. He said I have to push through it, because if I wind up in a real fight, they won't go easy on me.”

“Well, I can’t say he’s wrong about that. But, that’s still no excuse.” Dr. Keller tilts her head at you. “You could bring it up to Captain Price. He is your pack alpha, and he’s also Lieutenant Riley’s. I don’t doubt he’d bring it up to him on your behalf.” 

He would, but you don’t really want to stir the pot in that way. The last thing you need to do is become a tattle-tail. It’s quiet between you for a few moments, Dr. Keller shuffling her papers as you mark a clear end to that conversation. 

“How did you do on your assignment? I see you’re wearing a different sweatshirt this morning.” She says, eyeing you. 

You’re wearing Price’s sweatshirt, the one he gifted you. You’ve been wearing it almost every day, his scent still clinging to the fabric. Your face warms as she stares at you, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, but...I didn’t ask for this one. Price gave it to me after I told him about where my other one came from. I uh...I kissed Soap. And Gaz.” 

“Oh?” Her brows raise, and she writes something down on the paper. Your face warms even more as you watch her pen move with every letter. You can only imagine what she’s putting down. “Is that something you wanted? I know we talked briefly about it last time.” She says.

You nod. “Yes. I did want it. I...I also...kneeled...with Price...Did a couple times actually...” 

Dr. Keller’s mouth opens in surprise, her eyes shining as she looks at you. “You did? That’s huge! That’s an incredible development! Did you initiate, or did he?” 

“I did.” You say bashfully, sinking back further into the chair. “Both times.” 

Dr. Keller smiles at you, looking almost proud. “This is a big step in the right direction. How did it go? Were you able to relax?” 

You nod. “Yeah. It was nice. He was...gentle. He did it right.” 

“Good. How did you do coming down from it? I know it can be intense and difficult for some omegas.” She asks. 

You shrug. “Fine. I felt it a bit the morning after, but it wasn’t too bad. I fell asleep on him both times.” 

“Oh?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Did you stay with him?” 

You shake your head. “No, Gaz took me to my room both times.” 

“Good. That’s good practice, for when your heat comes. Shows how much trust they have in each other.”

You hadn’t really thought of that. There was a lot of trust involved in omega’s heats. Omegas have to trust their alphas to take care of them while they’re blind with insatiable need, but both alpha and omega have to trust a beta to keep them alive. Your heat will trigger Price’s rut and make him lose control for a while, and it will be up to Gaz to keep you both fed and hydrated. He’ll be the one to help you both afterwards as well.

“Have you started nesting yet?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You shake your head. “No. Don’t feel any drive to either.” 

Dr. Keller hums as she writes something down. “Well, it has only been two weeks. Though, perhaps if you can manage to ask for some things to make your space more comfortable, that might help ease you into it.” 

You chew on your lip, tugging at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You know she’s right. Until you’re comfortable and feel safe enough, you won’t feel the drive to nest. You’ll need to nest before your heat arrives. Otherwise, it’ll cause issues for both you and Price. 

“When...when should I be worried?” You ask. 

“Hmm...” Dr. Keller looks at her calendar. “If you’re not feeling any sort of drive to nest by our next appointment, then I’d say we may need to consider using some exercises to help jump start it.” 

“Exercises?” You ask warily. 

“All easy things.” She reassures you. “Things like scent introductions, tactile explorations, and some bonding exercises might be helpful as well.” She writes something down on a sticky note. “I’ll explain everything in detail and you’ll get to choose whether you want to do any of it or not. No one’s going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, alright?” 

Tears prick your eyes at her words, and you furiously blink them back. It’s a little late for that kind of sentiment. Your presence here alone was thanks to a long line of people forcing you to do things you’re not comfortable with. It was easy to get lost in the excitement and the emotions of bonding with a pack, easy to forget that you would never have chosen this place had you ever been given the option to choose. 

You would have gone far from the military, far from this kind of life. It’s your duty to bond with an alpha, but what if you don’t want to? What if it’s all a front, and as soon as you’re claimed the curtains rise and suddenly everything is different? What if Price isn’t as kind as you’ve come to believe him? Just one squeeze too tightly around the back of your neck while you’re kneeling and everything would change. 

How easily he could take everything from you. 

“You want to talk about what’s going on in your head right now?” Dr. Keller asks, breaking the silence between you two.

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been staring off into space, lost in your thoughts. Of course she knows something’s changed. She’s spent years learning the ins and outs of omegas and all the secrets you can only imagine. She’s probably just as in tune with subtle changes as the four well trained soldiers that make up your new pack. Maybe even more in tune with them. 

You shake your head, keeping your gaze on the floor. 

“Remember nothing shared in this room leaves this room. It’ll always only be between us.” She says softly. 

You’re panicking. You can feel the pressure rising within you. You’re like a grenade and someone is about to pull the pin. You’re afraid you’ll spill everything to her, afraid you’ll let out things you’ve successfully kept buried for years and years. Things you’ve left behind, things you’ve had to move on from. Things you can’t afford to let out now. 

“I’d like to be done now.” You silently curse the way your voice shakes. 

Dr. Keller’s brows pull into a frown but she nods. “Okay.” She slips her papers into her notebook before standing. “Let me grab my keys.” 

You stand as she moves to her desk, grabbing her keys from the drawer. She leads you from her office, thankfully staying quiet as you walk through the rain towards the barracks. You’re still panicking, the turmoil inside you probably projecting the sour scent across the entire courtyard but you don’t care. You can’t. 

“Remember, if you ever need anything, I’m usually in my office.” Dr. Keller says as she drops you off at the door. 

You feel guilty as you hurry to your room, shoes squeaking on the tile. You feel bad for cutting the appointment off early, you feel bad for feeling the way you do. Later you’ll be grateful for Dr. Keller respecting your boundaries and not pushing, for following through with her promise and letting you be in control of the appointment. 

Right now you don’t care. Right now you can’t care. You’re too lost in your turmoil, the bitter scent of your distress seeping out from under the locked door. 

“...can ye talk tae me, hen? Let me know yer alright?” 

The soft voice coming through the closed door pulls you out from your burrow under the thin blanket. You blink blearily at your phone, trying to see the time. It’s just a little past the normal time you go to lunch with them. How long have they been knocking on the door? 

“Come on, lass.” Soap’s voice comes through the door again. “I dinnae want tae have tae kick in the door.” 

You force yourself out from under the blanket, pocketing your phone before quickly moving to your door. You throw it open, Soap’s eyes immediately scanning you as you rub tiredly at your eyes. You don’t doubt he’d kick in your door if he felt he had to. 

“Sorry,” You yawn. “I was asleep.” 

His eyebrows raise as he stares down at you. “Ye were asleep? Ye weren’t kidding about bein’ a heavy sleeper.” He leads you from the barracks, crossing the courtyard towards the mess.

“One time, when I was about two or three, my dad took us to some demonstration on base.” You say as you begin walking to the mess with him. “I fell asleep about halfway through and slept through a howitzer going off.” 

Soap lets out a laugh so loud it echoes in the courtyard. “Ye slept through a howitzer?” 

You nod. “Yup. My dad never let me live it down. I heard it all the time. ‘You’ll have to try hard to wake her, she slept through a howitzer once.’” 

Soap chuckles, leading you into the mess. “Ye are a deep sleeper.” 

You shrug. “I did say so. My phone will wake me up though. Alarms, calls.” 

“I’ll keep tha’ in mind.” He says as he guides you through the line, making your tray for you. 

You sit between Price and Gaz as usual, feeling a bit on edge still despite your nap after your appointment. You hadn’t gotten to sleep for very long, not nearly long enough to clear your head completely. You know they can tell, Gaz slowly shifting closer and closer to you, Price’s gaze flickering to you out of the corner of his eye every so often. Even Ghost’s eyes pass over you every so often as they sweep across the mess. 

You wonder if he feels responsible. 

You hope he does. 

Soap walks you back to the barracks after lunch and you spend the afternoon burrowed under your blanket again. You’re exhausted and sore after a long morning of training and your appointment. You wish you could sink back into sleep, let the emotions pass without you having to feel them, but you’re too awake now. Too aware of them as they prickle in the back of your mind. 

Dinner passes without incident, but you can’t ignore the feelings still stirring within you. You feel agitated and on edge, not even pacing your room helping you. You let out a breath before you put your slippers on, slipping out of your door. You make your way down the hallway, turning right instead of left like you would if you were heading for the rec room. The door is cracked open and you pause just before you reach it, suddenly feeling nervous. You shouldn’t really. There was no reason to be nervous, yet you can’t help the urge in the back of your mind to turn tail and race back down the hallway to the safety of your room. 

“You can come in, unless you’d prefer standing in the hallway all evening.” A voice calls from inside the office. 

Your face warms a bit at getting caught, but he could probably hear you coming down the hallway. He could probably smell you too. 

You push open the door, slipping inside before closing it behind you. Price stares at you from his desk as you stand there, shifting nervously on your feet. You feel agitated, on edge still. You’re worked up, and you don’t quite know why. 

“Everything alright?” Price asks, likely picking up on your nervous energy. 

Yes. You want to say, but then you’d have to come up with a reason as to why you sought him out, why you feel so worked up. You could just kneel for him. It’s what you should do, let yourself be eased into a peaceful state of mind. Let him take care of you. 

 “I don’t know.” 

The words are hardly more than a whisper, your voice trembling just as much as you are. Your chest feels tight, your breaths becoming shallow. You're not sure when he got up, when he even moved. His scent wraps around you, warmth encompassing your being as your face is pushed against his chest. 

“I need you to breathe for me.” Price says, pressing your ear against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart, the air flowing in and out of his lungs. 

You close your eyes, trying to match your breaths to his. It's hard, your body fighting your attempt to regulate it. You close your eyes, focusing on the soft fabric of Price's shirt against your cheek, the warmth of his hand on your head as he keeps you pinned against his chest. It's not constricting or suffocating. It's grounding, keeping you from drowning in your own thoughts. 

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to as he holds you there, letting you calm down. You begin to slowly relax, your arms wrapping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. 

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” He murmurs, lips brushing the top of your head. 

“I don’t know.” You whisper, still clinging to his shirt. “I’m just...I feel off. Ghost was being hard on me this morning and then I got upset during my appointment and I’ve just felt on edge all day and I can’t relax because I can’t get comfortable!” 

Price tightens his grip around you just slightly. “What do you mean?” 

You huff out a breath, squeezing your eyes closed so the tears don’t escape as the words leave you in a flood before you can stop them. “The blankets aren’t soft enough and the pillows are too thin and it’s too dark and I’m tired of smelling like bland soap!” 

Price hums quietly, squeezing you gently as a tear slides down your cheek. “Then we should do something to fix that.” 

“But I shouldn’t need it!” You cry, trying to push away from him, but he keeps you tight against his chest. “I’m supposed to be a good omega and adapt and learn to be comfortable where I am.” 

“That might be what you were taught,” He says, letting you push away from his chest, but he wraps his hands around your arms, keeping you in front of him. “But things don’t have to be that way. We should have taken care of something like this sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t even think of it. You shouldn’t have had to ask for it.” 

You blink up at him, genuinely surprised by his words. “I...what?” 

“We all have our own little comforts that we keep. Soap sleeps with a stuffed bear. Don’t tell him I told you that.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips at the mental image of Soap snuggling up with a teddy bear. 

“You deserve some comfort too.” He says, squeezing your arms.

“But, it’s not...regulation.” You say. 

“Doesn’t have to be.” He says. “You’re not a soldier. Even then, the only ones going in there are us. The only thing I can’t approve of is painting the walls. Unfortunately the prison grey has to stay.” 

You can’t help but laugh, wiping the tear from your cheek. “I suppose that’s alright. Just...as long as it’s not as dark and maybe a soft blanket or something. That’s really all I need.” 

He hums, staring down at you. You can’t quite figure out the look on his face, something shining in his eyes. “We’ll get it figured out.” He says, squeezing your arms again. 

“Get some shoes on. We’re going on a trip.” 

You look up from your book, staring at Price as he stands in the rec room. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, arms crossed as he stares down at you on the couch. You mark your place in your book, pushing yourself up to sit. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and unlike last week they had the day off, which means you do as well. 

“Are you going to make me hike through the woods for two hours again, sir?” You ask, pushing yourself up to stand. 

“No. We’re going into town.” He says. 

You blink at him. You haven’t been off base since you arrived, and you figured you probably wouldn’t be getting that opportunity any time soon. “Can I ask why, sir?” 

“We’ve got some shopping to do.” He says simply, turning and leaving the rec room. 

You stand there shocked for a moment before you’re following after him, slipping into your room to put comfortable shoes on and grab your phone and a jacket. You don’t even have a wallet to carry around to make yourself feel better. 

Price is waiting by the door for you, a car parked outside. You’re slow to approach him, suddenly feeling a mix of emotions. He’s doing this for you. He’d really taken your conversation last night to heart and now he’s going to go spend money on you that he doesn’t need to. 

“What’s that look for sweetheart?” He asks, standing in front of the door. 

“You don’t have to do this.” You say, staring up at him. He seems so tall like this, so...imposing. 

“Course I do.” He says, his gaze softening just slightly. “Should have done it sooner. You deserve to be comfortable too.” He says, turning to open the door. 

You follow him out, climbing into the car when he opens the door for you. He gets in the driver’s seat, the car rumbling to life. He drives to the front gate, passing off two ID cards to the guards. He passes one to you when the guard hands them back, the gate in front of you opening. 

“That’s your ID card. Gets you on and off base.” He explains as he drives away from the gate. “I doubt you’ll be leaving on your own, but just in case.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, slipping the card under your phone case for the time being. 

He glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “You can call me John, if you'd like. You don't need to be formal when we're in private.” 

“Yes, sir.” You make a face, biting your lip at your automatic response. “Sorry. Old habits.” 

“From the institute?” He asks. 

You shake your head. “My dad, actually. He was a firm believer in respecting authority figures. All ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ by the time we were old enough to know the difference.” 

“Sounds like my father.” He says, staring out at the road ahead. “Old grizzled military man.” 

“Do you still have contact with him?” You ask curiously. You don’t know much of anything about their families, their backgrounds.

“Not really. Beyond holidays, neither of us really make an effort to talk to the other. After mum passed, there wasn’t much to talk about.” He says. 

“She was the glue.” You say, watching the trees pass by the car. 

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “As betas usually are.”

“Do you have any siblings?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. You know next to nothing about them, while they likely know your entire life story. 

“No,” He shakes his head. “Just me. You have a lot of siblings.” 

You nod. “Seven at the time I left for the institute. Could be more now.” 

“They never tried to keep contact with you?” He asks. 

“Nope.” You turn to look out the window. “The institute didn’t really encourage it either, because we were being prepared to join new packs. That’s hard to do when you still have bonds with your old ones. I think they might have forcibly ended some. I know there were some omegas that tried to keep contact, but it became less and less until eventually it just stopped.” 

Price’s hands tighten around the steering wheel just slightly. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention. Silence settles in the car as he drives, farmlands passing until the houses start getting closer and closer together. You stare at the buildings as he drives through town, a blend of historical and modern. 

“It’s beautiful here.” You say, watching people and cars pass by. 

“I suppose so.” He says, glancing at you. “I grew up in this area.” 

You turn to look at him. “You did? I didn’t know that. Then again, I don’t know much about any of you.” 

“You can ask us, you know.” He says. “We don’t have to be that secretive with you. At least not about ourselves.” 

He pulls into a parking lot, opening your door for you and helping you out of the car. You slip your hand into his, holding it as you cross the parking lot. You stare up at the store. ASDA. You’ve never heard of it before, though you suppose the stores would be different here too. 

Price drops your hand to grab a cart, the store bustling with people. You hang onto the edge of the cart, staying close to Price’s side. “We’re here for you.” He says, guiding you through the aisles. “Get whatever you want.” 

He’s led you to the homegoods section, your eyes widening at the entire aisle of blankets and bedding in front of you. You try to take it all in, but you feel a bit overwhelmed. There’s so many choices, so many options. 

“Pick out as many as you want. Don’t worry about the price.” He says, before you can protest. “We get paid decently, but don’t have many chances to use it. Let me do this for you.” 

You stare up into his eyes, the sincerity in them, before you nod, turning back to the wall of blankets before you. You study them, running your hand along them to find the softest ones, doing as he says and ignoring the price tags. You settle on a couple soft ones, grabbing a throw blanket as well that you can pack around to the rec room if you want to. He takes you to the pillow aisle, and you settle on a pair of fluffy pillows, as well as a couple decorative ones as well. 

“Here.” He slips a big plush strawberry into your arms before you leave the aisle, your cheeks warming as you look at it. “Makes me think of you.” 

You preen at his words, holding onto the strawberry as you make for the lamps and nightlights, settling on a cat shaped one that will sit on your desk and changes colors. You pick up a few other items before heading for the toiletries, finally setting the strawberry in the cart as you zero in on the soaps and body washes. You smell all the strawberry scented ones, trying to find the perfect one. 

“Why strawberry?” Price asks as you put a strawberries and cream scented body wash in the cart. 

“Compliments my scent.” You explain as he leads you to the shampoo and conditioner. “We had a scent specialist come to the institute one time as an activity. We all figured out what our scents smell like and what notes compliment them the best.” 

An arm wraps around your waist before you can look at the shampoo, pulling you back against a broad chest. Price’s nose presses into your neck and he inhales deeply. He lets out a content hum, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. “I think you’re right.” 

Your face burns hot as he presses a gentle kiss against the side of your neck before releasing you. You stand there for a moment, trying to calm the heat rushing through your body and focus on the shampoo. You hear him chuckle as you shuffle forward, your face still burning as you smell the shampoo bottles. 

You settle on one, holding onto Price’s arm as you continue around the store, picking up a few other items and a couple for himself as well before heading to the checkout. 

You hold on to Price’s arm as you leave the store, sticking close to him as he loads the bags into the trunk. You can feel the slight tension in his body, the way his eyes scan the parking lot every few seconds. You can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to relax, especially out in public. How fast his mind has to be running, how alert he is to everyone and everything. A threat could come out of nowhere, could come from anyone. 

It must be exhausting. 

“Hungry, sweetheart?” He asks as he buckles his seatbelt. 

“Always.” You answer, leaning on the center console.

He smiles. “What are you in the mood for?” 

You blink at him. Most of the restaurants you know probably don’t exist in England. “Fish and chips?” You offer, pulling up the one British food you’re confident in naming. 

“Fish and chips it is.” He says, turning on the car. 

“I have yet to have real fish and chips.” You say, settling into the passenger seat. 

“Well, I know the perfect place.” He says, pulling out of the parking lot. 

You don’t have to go far before he’s parking on the street and helping you out of the car. His hand settles on your lower back, guiding you down the street to a fish and chips shop. 

It's too early for the dinner rush, the shop mostly empty and quiet. Price orders for you before guiding you to a table, and you let him sit facing the door and front window. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. They seem so relaxed on base, though you suppose that's the place they feel the most comfortable. You can't even imagine the kinds of things they've seen, the horrors they've been subjected to. 

You don't want to think about the things they've done. 

Your eyes snap downwards as Price's hand slides across the table, closing around yours. You don't want to think about the things he's done with those hands. The lives he's taken, the people he's tortured. Will he ever turn those hands on you? 

They've given you no reason to fear them yet. They've all been kind, polite. Even Ghost hasn't truly given you a reason to fear him, despite his obvious disapproval and hard exterior. 

You know nothing about them. 

You've known them for just over two weeks. You can't possibly have any understanding of who they are, how they express their emotions. What if they get upset? What happens when they get angry? What if you anger them?

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you. Any of it.” Price says, drawing you from your worried thoughts. “I know you were taught to expect this, perhaps not this exact situation, but something like this. Being sent off to some strange alpha to join their pack, bonding with complete strangers. None of us were expecting this either. It’s been an adjustment in a lot of ways, but I want you to know that we’ll take care of you. You need anything, you tell us. You want anything, we’ll do our best to make it happen. We’ll keep you safe.” He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I promise you that.” 

You want to believe him. You really do. They haven’t given you any reason to not believe it. 

It’s only been two weeks. 

You continue to talk with him as you eat, making light conversation, getting to know him a bit more. Despite the trickling uncertainty in the back of your mind, it feels good. It feels like a date, something you had dreamed of before you presented, something you had imagined happening when you finally got old enough to start looking for potential mates and packs. 

Of course, back then, you had thought you’d be an alpha. 

It had been expected of you. 

Price has his arm wrapped around you as you walk back to the car, his hand on your hip. It’s possessive almost, and it makes your stomach flutter. Price is the only one you haven’t kissed yet, well, besides Ghost, but you’re certain you’d wind up through a wall if you even thought of trying. It’s almost ironic that Price would be the last, considering he’s going to be the one claiming you, the one you spend your heat with. 

You stare out the window as the buildings fade into farmlands again. The sun is setting, painting the world in oranges and reds. You still feel a bit warm from Price’s possessive hold on you, his teasing in the store. You can still feel the tickle of his beard on your skin, his lips pressing against your neck. 

You jump when rough fingers trail down your arm, pulling it from where it had been resting in your lap. 

“You were right.” Price says as he lifts your hand to his face, pressing his nose against your wrist and inhaling for a moment. “Strawberries are the strongest note in your scent.” He lowers your hand again, lacing your fingers together. “What’s got you all worked up over there.” 

You stare at him, your face getting warm again. Of course he can smell it. You can smell the muskiness beginning to form around the edges of his scent. Desire. “You haven’t kissed me yet.” You say, moving his hand into your lap. “You're the only one that hasn't...well, besides Ghost.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh. “You sound disappointed.” 

You untangle your fingers with his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. “What if I am?”

His fingers flex against your leg, the muskiness of his scent strengthening. “Then maybe we should fix that.” 

The cocktail of scents in the car is intoxicating, and you feel bad for the poor beta soldier at the gate when Price rolls down the window to hand off your IDs. 

Price is out of the car as soon as it's parked, moving around to your side to open the door. He pins you against the side of the car as soon as you're out, caging you in with his arms. 

You stare up at him, head swimming with the musk laced in his scent. You can see his eyes shining in the light next to the door of the barracks. He looks like a hungry wolf, the back of your neck prickling with excitement. 

He leans down, breath fanning your face as he gets closer and closer to you. You press yourself against him, hands gripping his shoulders as he presses his lips to yours. His lips are surprisingly soft, his beard tickling your face. He growls quietly against your lips, pushing you harder against the side of the car. 

You let out a quiet sound in response, hands gripping his jacket. His hands slide from the car to your sides, sliding down to grip your hips. You can feel the muscle hidden beneath his jacket and shirt, the strength that he possesses. He may not be purebred like Ghost, but he’s still every inch an alpha. 

You let out another quiet sound as he pulls away, pressing a caste kiss to the corner of your lips. “Bloody hell, now I know what those boys were on about.” He breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“They were talking about me?” You ask, pulling back slightly. 

“Only good things.” Price grins, leaning down to kiss you again. “Sweet as sugar.” He breathes, kissing you again. “And just as addicting.” He pulls away from you, his hands resting on your waist. “We should get your stuff inside so you can get it all set up. Want me to fetch one of the boys to help?” 

You bite your lip. “Or you could just do it.” 

He stares down at you, something flashing across his face but you can’t quite make it out in the low light. “You’re sure?” His voice is quiet, taking on that soft tone it often does when he speaks to you. 

“You’ll have to eventually.” You shrug. “Might as well start now.” 

He leans down, kissing you again before pulling away, opening up the trunk. He grabs most of the bags, only leaving the pillows for you to grab before he leads the way into the barracks. You open your door, stepping in first before he follows. You dump your pillows on the bed, and he sets the rest of the bags on your desk. 

“Blankets in the wash.” You say, digging them out of the bags, pulling the tags off. 

“I’ll take them.” He says, fishing out his stuff from the bags before taking the blankets from you. 

You switch out your pillows for the softer ones, organizing the decorative ones just the way you want. You squish the strawberry to your chest again, a smile forming on your face before you flop back onto the bed, sinking into the soft pillows. It’s almost perfect, you think. 

“Comfortable?” Price’s voice rumbles in the doorway, a smile on his face as he stares at you. 

“Much better.” You say, sitting up and placing the strawberry in its place. 

The two of you finish taking everything out of the bags, decorating the rest of your room. The posters on the walls, and the nightlight on your desk. It feels far more homey already, and you know you’re going to sleep well tonight once the blankets are out of the wash. 

“Thank you.” You say, looking up at Price. “This really means a lot.” 

“All in a day’s work, love.” He says, pulling you into his arms again. 

You lean against his chest, resting your head over his heart, listening to it beat steadily against your ear. 

You wake up suddenly, yet you’re not quite sure why. There’s no one in your room, your new nightlight easily showing you that. Your mouth is dry, but there’s a line of wetness down your chin. You reach across your nightstand, your phone illuminating the time. 

Just past one a.m. 

You smack your lips, feeling thirsty after the excitement of the day. You’d forgotten to grab water when you left the rec room and you huff out a sigh. You don’t want to get up, but now that you’re aware you’re thirsty, there’s no stopping those thoughts. 

You don’t even bother with slippers as you pad to the door, opening it up. You leave it cracked as you sleepily shuffle towards the rec room, the barracks almost dead quiet this late. You grab a bottle from the fridge, unscrewing the top before drinking a few gulps. It’s cold and tastes divine, soothing the dryness of your mouth. You screw the top back on, closing the fridge before heading back towards your room. 

You turn the corner, still half asleep, nearly yelping as you slam into a chest. You stumble back a couple steps, staring up at the covered face looming over you. You gulp, holding the bottle to your chest. 

“S-Sorry.” You stutter. 

“You’re out of bed.” He says quietly, voice rumbling in the silence. 

“Thirsty.” It’s all you can manage as you hold up the bottle. 

He stares at you for a long moment, eyes flickering all over your face. His chest is heaving, almost as if he had been running before you ran into him. His hands are closed into fists at his sides, knuckles almost white with how tense he is. You think for a moment he might be mad, but you can’t catch any whiff of ozone in the air. Your nose prickles at the scent, but it’s not anger. 

Your tired brain can’t make sense of it, yearning to sink back into the softness of your bed again. You slowly shuffle around him, taking cautious steps, waiting for him to reach out and stop you, but he doesn’t. He simply watches you go, standing there in the hallway as you slip back into your room, not moving until he hears the click of your lock slipping into place. 

NEXT ->

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[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

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[v1x3n]

TORTURE ── ripped apart.

♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141

♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.

♯ TAGS - angst - torture, cutting, 'betrayal', forced intoxication, passing out, threats.

─ previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter ─

You could see in his eyes he didn't want to believe it but you could also see the hatred in his eyes, the betrayal and the anger. 

He stood away from you, watching as ghost, who you had known as Simon, stood in front of you, a knife draped along your tear stained cheeks. Arms tugging at the ropes that held you up against a metal pipe centered in the room, your legs tied to the cold metal, the rope strangling your flesh, your skin around the rope glowing white as the blood slowly but surely stops flowing down to your ankles and arms. “Please” you sob, tears brimming your eyes, once again whilst his knife left your cheek. “I - it's not me!” 

They don't reply as your cries fill out the room when ghost pushes the blade of the knife against your cheek, a slit quickly appearing. Crimson blood drops from the wound, the deep wound stings. You hiss at the sharp pain as Price's eyes lock onto yours, his eyes filled with a rage you had never seen before.his expression remains stoic but you could tell - deep down - he was hurt. Hurt you had ‘done’ this, hurt he trusted you, hurt he saw the person he cared for dearly betrayed him like that. Like a sly fucking fox. 

John took a step closer towards you and Simon, his boots echoing loudly in the silent yet sob filled room, your breath caught as the knife swung down to your lower abdomen. You flinch at price getting as close as he can, face to face with you. You could feel his hot breath on you - and what does he do? He fucking smirks, seeing his cruel grin right in your face brings you with such fury. “It's not fucking me!” you scream into his ear, eyes welding with tears once more, tears that dare to fall down. 

Simon's face was stiff as he slices into you, a deep cut straight into your lower abdomen, the pain makes you shout out in pain, “stop!” the tears drop from your face, trailing down you and splashing onto the floor. “Give me one fucking reason why i shouldnt slit your throat right now.” Price coldly states, his dead eyes staring into yours - no sympathy found in his gorgeous blue eyes. The cut plastered onto your cheek stings as your salty tears pours into it. The burn hurts and causes you to scream out once more, ghost rolls his eyes -  a sight you had saw after giving him a stupid fucking joke but now it was used to mock. To tell you that he doesnt fucking care about your pain anymore, he doesnt care about the cuts , the wounds and the burns he caused you. He doesn't care about you being tied here, bare and for everyone to see for weeks. He doesn't care less about the way you cry - knowing he, no, both of them, had helped you time over time to stop you and to comfort you whilst times you sobbed in front of them. 

Why didn't they help now? 

Breathing seems to get harder as the blade presses deeper into you, ghost had told you about his tactics before - this is why you weren't scared of what was coming. Because you knew. He would wear the person down, inch by inch, by constant harm and fear. Nothing too much but eventually killing them - if they dont give him what he wanted in the end, but you could see deep down he wouldnt fucking kill you - well you hoped. 

They both watch as tears pour from your tear ducts, your chest rises and falls faster than the tears drooping down your body. "I said give me a good reason. Do it now." Price grunts out, his gaze unwavering. 

“i- its not me!” you manage to choke and scream out, your lungs burning as a painful cry escapes you. All ghost and price do is chuckle, “why the fuck Would we believe you?” ghost puts the knife down against the cold, bloody floor. Your body stings as you cry out once more, “Id n-never! I swear!” their coldness sends chills down your spine, how could the people who you once called family be this cruel ? this mean ? this fucking heartless ?

“Why would i betray you when i fucking love you, john!” you blurt out, water rolling from your eyes at how this is how you had to confess. Price almost flinches at your words, you could feel his breath hitch slightly. But you were so fucking stupid if you even thought for a second that he would believe you. Ghost snorts at your words whilst your captain's eyes soften for a moment.

The masked man's cold gaze flicked between you and price, his expression revealing nothing - you wouldn't be surprised. “P-please john, i love y-you” you sob out, eyes welding with large sparks of tears. The man you are pouring your heart out too scoffs at you, “do you think we are that fucking stupid?” he spits out. Your head stings as Simon yanks your hair back harshly so you could look him in the eyes, “shut up” Simon's grip onto your hair strings as he speaks the first words he has said since he brought you in this trauma filled room. 

“Tell me the truth, do not fucking lie to us.” 

You refuse to say anything, frozen as your sob at everything these fucking men, your family had done to you. The more and more pain they had put you in caused you, muted you even more. The first day was terrible, memories of that first night repeat in your mind when you're left alone, cold and shivering - unable to sleep due to the position you were put in, it aches you. They knew you hadnt fallen asleep either, your heart- wrenching screams echoed through the room, it wouldnt have mattered if you had kept them up either, they knew non of them could sleep a blink knowing the person they loved and cared about, the person they saw and worked aside every fucking day would betray them like that? The first night was terrifying but you thought that- you hoped that it was the end and they had came to their senses overnight and finally fucking thought about it, or found out who framed you? 

Simon undid the ropes that hung you up when your mind spiraled with past thoughts, your knees hit the hard ground, you groan and put out your hands as you finally touch the floor, you haven't been this close to walking or even standing in what? Weeks? You don't know how long it has been. Your gaze shifts down to your hand, reliving the moment when Johnny has cut off some fingers, now left with 8 fingers that clench onto the floor that your blood and tears covered. 

They both look down at you on the floor and step back , almost daring you to get up but you just couldn't. Price let out a sharp breath, running a filthy hand through his hair - his frustration and anger clear on his face. “If you talk-” john breathes through his nose, “if you tell us, it'll be much easier f’ you” 

“i didnt fucking do it!” you scream out which results in a quick kick to the ribs by ghost. You grunt and he kicks you again. Wincing to each batter to the ribs, “you're making this worse on yourself, love.” John sneers, peering down at your harmed body, clearly on the verge of just giving up. They watched as you gasped for air, your mutilated hand reaching out for the ground in front of you - to try to crawl away but something, or someone stops you. John's firm foot stood onto your ankle, the odd position you fell too causing your ankle to twist, you sob a cry . his foot stamping down and twisting it further, with ghost stomping onto your ribs and price close to breaking your ankle it was too much, your cries grew and grew - your body shook from the pain. 

They stand and watch as your cries grew stronger, your tears streaming down your face and your body twitching from the harsh pain. Simon grips onto your hair once more, pulling your scalp to make you look up at them, “open your fucking mouth” he spits. 

Price pulls out a flask of some sort and jolts it to your lips, you weren't listening so he forces it through your dry lips, the metal clinking with your teeth, “he said open.” he said firmly. You try to pull back away from the potion of some sorts they had brewed. Ghost yanks your hair towards it and the flask enters your mouth, hair pulled further so you're facing up to the ceiling as the liquid enters your mouth, it burns. 

“C'mon sweet’art, swallow it down” their wicked faces blur as you gag, the disgusting drink hitting the back of your throat and pouring down as ghost holds onto your nose, you gasp for air and the burning sensation makes its way through your throat. You gag at the potion, eyes meeting up with John, your old captain. “Tha’s a good girl, hm?” His words were kind and praise-filled but his tone was gruesome and harsh, his rough exterior plastered onto his face - he just simply didn't care about what he was doing to you, well, that's what you thought. You choke loudly, drips of saliva mixed with the fluid they had shoved into your mouth falls down your chin, they both stand back. Prepared for what's next, which was you spewing your guts out, completely emptying your stomach onto the ground, a small drop of blood hitting out with the vomit, your choking and gags fills out the room. Pure pain is how it felt. Your eyes sting with tears as you cough out the brew. 

Due to your weak body, you feel your mind spinning and youre body succumbs to the intense torture, your eyes flicker and your body goes slack. Vision blurring as you pass into unconsciousness - falling into a darkness that brings a relief from the pain.

The two men stood around you notice your body go limp, exchanging a quick glance to one another and sighing. They weren't expecting you to pass out so quickly but it wasn't that much of a surprise. Your limp body almost panics them too, so ghost crouches down and places two gloved fingers to your neck, to the side of your windpipe. Checking if you were still alive. “Looks like she's done” price gruffly speaks after ghost nods, reassuring you were still alive. The masked man stands up and straightens himself back up. “Lets go” his voice low, staring down at your unconscious body and running a hand through his hair once more. They both exit, leaving you there, luckily for you they didn't tie you back up to the pipe. You were just left there - slumped on the floor. 

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[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

previous

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

next

[viewerspookyhappenings]

okay buckle up chuckle fucks here is everything i remember from tonight (absolutely missing some stuff)

- before dan comes on he introduces himself over the speaker stating that he asked phil to do it and phil said no because he didn’t want to be sat behind a curtain for an hour

- dan comes on stage and stands in the big church plinth thing (iconic)

- he tells a story about how he went to a&e the day before yesterday because he had sore eyes. says phil was trying to get him to put eye drops in but he was being very dramatic so whilst on the phone to 111 phil knelt over him lying on the bathroom floor holding his eyes open to put drops in. dan then went to hospital to check it and everything’s fine (lol) he just needed some special eyedrops. phil did not accompany him and dan had to cross a dual carriageway on his own whilst not being able to see well (i doubt he will ever let it go)

- here is a diagram i drew on the way home to depict said event

- it is also giving this

- spoke about the butt chair. union chapel said they did not have any furniture for him to borrow so he had to bring his own - he bought the butt chair from his bedroom and a lil plant to decorate. said phil carried the plant to the car but made dan get the chair in the uber and then said “okay have fun at work sweetie” (this was said jokey but we died nonetheless)

- he then talks about pissyourselffordan trending and how he had to explain to harper collins what the actual fuck was happening on stan twt. apparently they were glad the fans were supportive and he has an engaged audience but they were not going to use the hashtag in the promo. called the whole scenario pissgate and the crowd chanted piss at him

- he was told there was wine and advertised wine before realising alcohol was not allowed in the church. he then got given a sprite and everyone screamed that it was piss

- talked about the book and the previous release, how weird covid was, talked about the photoshoot for the book cover and the graphic design. said he didn’t love the pics because they were super dramatic. someone shouted “it’s cunty” he replies: “oh it’s cunty is it?” then realises he said cunty in a church which was a big lol

- he then read the new chapters, several mentions of phil not being supportive and abandoning him at the hospital (he talked about phil a lot it was very sweet)

- then brought out dan’s slit (box used to put questions in before the show)

- the questions i can remember include but are not limited to:

- what was the weirdest position you wrote the book in: “cheeks out in an armchair curled up over my laptop, you might think your scrolling posture is okay now but when you hit thirty you will all be broken”

- fave comfort show: “the office - is the office a bit millennial? it isn’t as millennial as friends. ross being offended by a manny? that’s where my internalised homophobia is from”

- how has the gaming channel affected your mental health? A: he is finding it a lot more sustainable than before because of help with editing, but will see where it goes

- will he ever judge drag race: he didn’t want to when he was asked because he didn’t want to be exposed to more speculation about his sexuality at the time, same with strictly come dancing

- how do you cope with feeling lonely whilst surrounded by people: talked about how online friends are truly real friends and distance doesn’t have to determine friendship levels. says it is important to notice the friendships even that aren’t close

- i can’t remember the question but he said that phil has to remind him of some of the stuff that is in ywgttn when he struggles “i literally learnt the word catastrophising from your book dan come on”

- another tour? “do you guys want that” *screaming* “what would it be?” *dan and phil games screams* “well 👀👀”

- are we going to get more sister daniel: *everyone loses their minds* “maybe i should have done it for the church but it is far too exposing under the spotlight”

- did you work in the asda in Lower Earley: “what in the baby reindeer? yes i did”

- then went to the insta questions that were too inappropriate for the audiobook including

- piss

- will you wear wigs

- when will you wear wigs

- how long is your big toe “six centimetres - i don’t have a big toe im just a long person”

- pee pee poo poo time

- what were the other names for the book: “you will get through this was a bit cliche, you will get through this night? she is sexy and mysterious. at first we wanted to call it “you are messed up read this to fix your issues” but then realised the book was more serious in tone after it was finished so went with ywgttn instead”

- i genuinely can’t remember most of these i think i dissociated a lil at this point if anyone remembers please add

- then read the author’s note at the end of the paper back, talking about how lockdown impacted him and was a big scary thing and also how incredible it is to see people recommend it, find it useful, have therapists recommend it etc. “it is an honour to have created this”

- took a selfie with everyone

- someone gave him a bouquet of flowers and he said “aww you guys are so gay”

- then said “if you enjoyed seeing me in person… i’ll see you again very soon”

this is everything i remember off the top of my head so people please feel free to add what i have forgotten!!

and here are all the pics i got!!

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 6] A Different Side

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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Sukuna notices a certain glow to you lately. He’s not sure what it is, but as time goes on and you become rounder with his children, he sees something different in you. He doesn’t find you beautiful, that’s certainly not it.

Well, he certainly doesn’t mind looking at you. He did choose you out of any other woman to carry his child. There’s something nice about you that he likes to dote on when no one else is looking (he’d never admit that though). He won’t say that you’re beautiful, but he’d say that you’re the closest a woman comes to achieving that. But lately, there’s something about you that radiates, something that sticks with him even after you leave. 

Is Sukuna getting to like you? No, that’s absurd. He’s just seeing you in a better light since you’re carrying his children. It’s normal for someone to look at the mother of his children in a better light, and Sukuna guesses he falls under that category as well. As much as he likes to infamously stand out, this one time he relates to the crowd.

Even though he negates the idea that he likes you, you notice a change in him. He’s grown fonder of you. You assume that it’s because the nauseousness dies down and you’re finally eating what you’re served, just as he orders. Your taste buds aren’t fond of it, but you can eat it without puking.

You notice a change in how he treats you as time passes. He spends more time with you– Not just watching you, but actually doing an activity with you. Whenever you read, he listens; if you want to take a stroll, he joins your side, not just walking three steps behind you; if you play a game, he joins. Either he’s grown fond of you as his wife, or he realized he’s too bored by just watching you live your life. Either way, you’re happy with how it’s going.

“You’re horrible at shogi.” Sukuna points out after beating you for what feels like the hundredth time in the day. He likes your perseverance at least. Humans are so fascinating in that aspect. They refuse to give up even if they have no chance of winning. Sukuna has lost count of the times he’s killed someone because they bet on something that they had no chance of winning.

“Hina tells me I’ve improved! I’m always beating her.” You claim, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. What a pretty little fool you are.

“And why do you think that is?” Sukuna feels like he has to dumb it down for you, and you scoff. You cross your arms, resting on top of your very noticeable bump. Sukuna smirks as he looks at you. You’re at least three months along, and you’re already huge. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’re expecting twins.

“Would it hurt you to let me win?” You mutter, and Sukuna hums in response. You huff as you stand up, refusing to play with him anymore. Maybe it’s the reason why Hina always lets you win, you’re a sore loser. “I don’t want to play with you anymore.”

“Good. I need a challenge.” 

“You’re a big dumb loser.” You stick out your tongue at him, but you quickly regret your actions when he glares at you. You know he won’t touch you or harm you in any way, but a single look is enough to send chills down your spine.

“Calling me a loser when you’ve lost more games than I can count… That’s rich.” He responds, which makes your back stiffen. You’re taken aback by his response, considering how quick it is. You’ve never assumed that Sukuna would have a sharp tongue; to you, he’s simply loud and scary which is why people are terrified of him, so it comes as a shocker when he actually has a smart response.

“I’m going on a walk.” You tell him, causing him to rise and go to your side. There’s absolutely nothing that you’re allowed to do alone, and you feel suffocated. You’ve asked him to give you a moment to yourself daily but you have no authority over him, and he makes it clear by not leaving you alone.

“It’s getting colder. You won’t be going on walks next week.” Sukuna says, which is an order rather than a prediction. A slight pout comes to your face, knowing that you have to find something else to do. 

For the first time in your life, you’re bored. You have nothing to do, and you find yourself staring at a wall for hours on end. You have too much time on your hands, and you find yourself thinking about what the future awaits. You wonder if after giving birth to his children, you'll be able to see your family. And you don’t want to be overwhelmed by your thoughts, which is why you try to keep yourself entertained, always.

“What will I do then?” You ask him as you exit the room. Your question receives no response, just as you expected. He isn’t very talkative during your walks, he just listens to you with no response. You guess his presence is better than none during your walks.

“You’re right, it is getting chilly.” You try to make conversation when you get outside, but as to be expected, he doesn’t say anything. However, he does hum in response which you consider as a small win. 

You walk slowly, taking details of the giant place. You’re always amazed by its size, no matter how many times you walk past it. It’s truly fit for a king. You shouldn’t expect less for Sukuna.

“What are you planning to name your child?” You question, and you’re sure that you’re not receiving a response since after a minute, he’s quiet. You’re not disappointed by the lack of response, after all, you ask a million questions and he only answers ten.

“I don’t have a preference. You can pick.” He finally answers, which makes you completely stop in your step. He furrows his brows as he looks down at you, “What?”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” You respond. As if the child that you carry isn’t yours as well, but only Sukuna’s. So far, you feel none of the maternal love that women claim to carry the moment they know they’re expecting. You’re expected to nurture them, but you know that you’ll have little to no authority over them; if anything you’ll be like a servant instead of a mother. “It’s your child.”

“You are carrying them, you have some control over that.” He replies, which is his way of telling you that he has no names in mind. He wants a child, the same way a man wants a pet. He didn’t give any forethought before completing the act.

“I’ll discuss it with Hina.” You end up saying, something which he won’t argue with. You continue your walk until you see a particularly dull spot in the palace. You point at it and tell Sukuna, “Some flowers would add some color to the place.”

“Winter is approaching.” He reminds you. 

“Spring will come again.” You respond, and he subtly nods.

“I’ll speak with Uraume then.” He replies, which makes a small smile appear on your lips. You intertwine your arm with his lower one, and he doesn’t bother fighting it off. Maybe you need some support for balance, and he isn’t going to push you off. Not while you’re carrying his baby.

“You know, while we’re at it–” You begin but a simple look makes you shut up. He knows you’re about to ask about your family, and you already know the answer.

Sukuna is tired of watching over you at around midnight. He spends every minute, every hour watching over you and he needs a break. Of course, he won’t leave you alone when you’re free to run around and get your dumb self in danger. He’ll just get Uraume or that dumb servant that you adore so much to watch over you while he… Visits Kyoko for the night. 

Maybe he should catch up on some sleep lost, but that isn’t quite as entertaining. He can sleep at any other time. He wonders if you’d get jealous about that, but at the same time he can’t really care for your thoughts.

He’s about to call out for Uraume to watch over you, but you begin to tremble. You look cold. He looks for something to throw over you and warm you up, but he doesn’t see anything. He thought he stocked up the room of literally everything, but he can’t find a blanket to throw over you.

He sighs. He should just let Uraume deal with this. Or your servant. All he knows is that this isn’t his job. Sure, he’s supposed to be your husband and whatnot but he isn’t responsible to keep you warm– But you’re also carrying his seed, and he’s responsible for the babies that grow inside of you. Sukuna sits down beside you, picking you up and bringing your head to his chest. 

He’ll just hold you for a minute. He’ll give you enough time to warm up before leaving. His hand goes to your back, and he’s hesitant before gently patting your back. 

“Haru.” You mutter, and he furrows his eyebrows. Who is that? Your brother? You’re shivering, your hands gripping the cloth of his kimono. It seems that you aren’t necessarily cold, but rather having a nightmare of sorts. 

“Wake up.” Sukuna pokes your forehead to get you to open your eyes. It doesn’t take much effort on his part to wake you up. You’re short of breath as you open your eyes, and immediately you notice that he’s holding you.

“What– What happened?” You can’t help but stutter as he puts you down. You feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest as you’re brought back to reality.

“You tell me. You were trembling and I had to help.” Sukuna answers as he stands up. You know that he isn’t going to stand around and listen to whatever you have to say, so you don’t bother speaking up; you don’t have the energy to waste your words for uncaring ears.

“Can you call Hina? Before you leave.” You ask, and he frowns.

“Who told you I’m leaving?” He questions.

“I’ve woken up a couple of times, and realized that you’ve been leaving the room lately.” You confess, since you doubt you can get in trouble for knowing the truth. It’s his fault that he leaves, he can’t get mad at you for noticing.

“I’m not leaving.” Sukuna decides. He doesn’t like the fact that you know his next move. He sits down again, deciding to ask, “What were you dreaming?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You leave him hanging. You’ve clearly woken up in a bad mood after your nightmare, and you’ve decided to test out Sukuna’s limits. You know that he won’t do you any harm, not while you’re carrying his baby at least.

“Haru… Is that the fragile little boy I healed?” Sukuna asks and you feel your heart drop at the mention of your little brother.

“How did you–” You begin to be cut off by him.

“You were calling out his name.” He says. “Someone really important to you from what I can gather.”

“He’s the only reason I’m here.” You murmur, and Sukuna scoffs. As if being the woman that carries his child isn’t an honor. “Yeah, I just had a bad dream about him. That was that.”

“Stop thinking about an imbecile. You are a queen, and he’s barely human.” Sukuna orders, as if it’s something that you can easily stop thinking about. You wish you could just forget about him, considering that you can’t see him. Every day you wonder if he’s okay, and if he and your aunt have enough food to eat. Alas, you can’t do anything against Sukuna’s wishes.

“He’s my brother. My family.” You argue, and he clicks his tongue.

“You stopped having a family the moment you became my wife.” Sukuna responds, and you feel nauseous at his words. “The only family you have now is the babies that are in your womb, and me.”

“Why can’t he be considered my family? He’s the only reason I’m here.” You remind him, and the words tick him off.

“He’s beneath you.” He says, and the words break your heart. Haru is all you have in the world, to hear that he’s beneath you makes you upset.

“Why–”

“Enough! I said you’re going to stop thinking about him, and that’s what you’ll do. Now go to sleep.” He yells, and tears begin to well up in your eyes. You end up nodding in response, knowing you have no other option but to listen. He looks down at you, watching you get on your side and cover yourself. “Good night.”

“Night.”

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.

Word count: 17.4k+

Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her. 

You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town. 

“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress. 

You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up. 

“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!” 

She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size. 

“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.” 

She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.” 

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.” 

Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little. 

Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her. 

You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time. 

“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s  low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. ��You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”

A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her. 

“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice. 

Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight. 

As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this. 

Will he think that you’re pretty? 

Will you look irresistible to him?

Will he want to tear it off of you? 

After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.

This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it. 

You are definitely getting it. 

After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought. 

You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.

But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out. 

“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu. 

“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place. 

You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?” 

She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu. 

“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. 

You laugh a little, shaking your head. 

A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been. 

“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.” 

You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy. 

You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.

Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret. 

You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you. 

“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.” 

Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her. 

You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you. 

You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment. 

Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead. 

Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended. 

Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still. 

It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles. 

“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”

“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest. 

She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours. 

“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.” 

You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her. 

“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.” 

The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream. 

“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit. 

How could she do that to him? 

How could she hurt him the way that she did? 

How could she call him that?  

You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat. 

Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out. 

And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart. 

You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first. 

You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did. 

He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart. 

But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now. 

“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?” 

She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again. 

“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.” 

She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly. 

“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness. 

She tilts her head at you, “what?” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her. 

“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up. 

Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly. 

You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably. 

“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.” 

Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms. 

Because she would be the one.

You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”

“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing. 

Heat of the moment. 

You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right. 

You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort. 

So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”

You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question. 

“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.” 

You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself. 

She is that woman. 

She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it? 

The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him? 

There is no doubt about what he would do. 

You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back. 

You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed. 

You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel. 

And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you. 

“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly. 

She isn’t someone you have to worry about. 

She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore. 

But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t. 

So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight. 

You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now. 

You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly. 

You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much. 

You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely. 

-

Two days. 

It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you. 

When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you. 

But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird. 

Because where were you? 

You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this. 

He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his. 

He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him. 

The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces. 

With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them. 

He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you. 

He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you. 

You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either. 

He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you. 

“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.” 

“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.

Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about. 

The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him. 

Are you avoiding him? 

The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins. 

He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him. 

“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts. 

“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”

Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?” 

Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.

“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs. 

Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip. 

Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises. 

Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney. 

He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky. 

He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter. 

Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days. 

You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his. 

His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.  

If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life. 

Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them. 

You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are. 

Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself. 

Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days. 

His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him. 

Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more. 

He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago. 

Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw. 

He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary. 

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back. 

And it does little to calm Steve down. 

“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely. 

He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate. 

And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now. 

A few days ago. 

Steve freezes. 

The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited. 

Is that why you canceled your plans with him?  

Is he the reason why you haven’t called? 

Did you stand him up for Jacob?

Were you with him? 

Did you let him kiss you? 

Did you let him touch you?

Did you forget all about him? 

He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling. 

He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you. 

Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you. 

He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch. 

Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.

He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.

He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him. 

And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless. 

You should be here, with him, by his side. 

And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen. 

He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.  

But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet. 

Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice. 

“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.” 

Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” 

Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably. 

But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly. 

You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him. 

Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself. 

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly. 

Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.

“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.

Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you. 

Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.

You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.

He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom. 

You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further. 

Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask. 

He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new. 

The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted. 

Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really. 

“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you. 

You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”

He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night. 

You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own. 

He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you. 

He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress. 

A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin. 

You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling. 

God, he missed you.

But, did you miss him? 

Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be? 

The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain. 

He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 

With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.

“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?” 

Steve moves his hand under your dress. 

“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”

Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there. 

“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger. 

You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little. 

“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. 

You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow. 

The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.

Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before. 

Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter. 

“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck. 

You suck in a sharp breath. 

“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?” 

Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip. 

“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. 

“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?” 

His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down. 

“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.” 

You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind. 

You would always choose Steve. 

There is no one else you would go home with. 

And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him. 

And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it. 

He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession. 

He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel. 

“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?” 

“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. 

“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?” 

You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.” 

“Good,” he nods. 

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick. 

You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth. 

You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain. 

“S-Steve!” 

He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers. 

You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first. 

“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie” 

You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them. 

“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?” 

Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you. 

“Good.” 

Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly. 

He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips. 

He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with. 

Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob. 

The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together. 

Would you be this wet for him too? 

Would you moan so prettily for him? 

Would you be so needy for him? 

The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you. 

His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now. 

You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you. 

Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action. 

Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly. 

Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.

But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more. 

He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came. 

“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure. 

“Please!” 

He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his. 

“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this. 

“Please, fuck me!” 

He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining. 

His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him. 

He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little. 

He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.  

You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.

Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy. 

“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.

He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.

“Steve!” 

“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.” 

The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob? 

But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach. 

You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him. 

No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this. 

Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again. 

“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before. 

“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb. 

Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach. 

You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!” 

Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching. 

The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours. 

He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit. 

A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub. 

He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left. 

You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.

“I know, baby, I know.” 

If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee. 

Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now. 

Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again. 

You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high. 

Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead. 

His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours. 

Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck. 

A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response. 

“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.

You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you? 

Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.

You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.

Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath. 

“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?” 

And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is. 

He doesn’t need you to know that. 

He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass. 

Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest. 

It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart. 

You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands. 

His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this. 

You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are. 

You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?” 

He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout. 

“H-How am I gonna hide–”

He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off. 

“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.” 

You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you. 

“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.” 

He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie. 

While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again. 

You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot. 

You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips. 

You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup. 

You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this. 

“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes. 

You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways. 

You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it. 

You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good. 

Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him. 

You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle. 

The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning. 

Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard. 

You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder. 

Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before. 

You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh. 

You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it. 

He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve. 

You greet him back, forcing a smile. 

He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?” 

You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve. 

“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek. 

You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes. 

“I-I…”

A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him. 

Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.” 

Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart. 

You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating. 

Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.” 

“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door. 

“Bye Jacob–”

“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves. 

You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper. 

You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else. 

He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road. 

Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse. 

Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways? 

He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms. 

He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way. 

He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.

He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it. 

He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words. 

You won’t call him, he will make sure of that. 

It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again. 

You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees. 

“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time. 

You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched. 

He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities. 

It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more. 

The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes. 

He is jealous. 

Steve is jealous over you. 

And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body. 

If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?

Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?

Will he call you baby again?

You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach. 

“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up. 

Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness. 

“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen. 

“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again. 

“What if I want to call him!?”

Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white. 

“You don’t need him,” he mumbles. 

You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?” 

Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now. 

He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head. 

He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!” 

Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden. 

“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side. 

“You don’t learn, do you?” 

“W-What?” 

“Get out.” He demands, not nicely. 

You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you. “What the fuck–”

“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice. 

You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.” 

Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at. 

“You’re making me change seats?”

He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.” 

The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.

He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?” 

You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine. 

He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.” 

The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head. 

A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished. 

You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you. 

His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin. 

“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress. 

“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds. 

“I’m taking that as a no.” 

Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.” 

You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words. 

His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again. 

“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.” 

His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most. 

He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you. 

Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more. 

He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit. 

To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before. 

You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs. 

But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.

You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more. 

Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully. 

He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming. 

You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him. 

No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face. 

“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?” 

You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction. 

He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him. 

And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan. 

“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!” 

His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder. 

“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen. 

You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder. 

The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster. 

Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel. 

He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure. 

He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.

He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats. 

Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops. 

He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close. 

And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly. 

Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again. 

He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.

His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him. 

“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him. 

He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on. 

Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet. 

He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him. 

He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit. 

“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face. 

Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more. 

He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy. 

Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit. 

“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”

“But–”

He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you. 

“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you. 

He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat. 

His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own. 

Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more. 

The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity. 

Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters. 

You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours. 

He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body. 

You belong to him. 

“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it. 

He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit. 

You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine. 

A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second. 

Baby, Baby, Baby… 

No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why. 

The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly. 

“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts. 

He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you. 

“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!” 

“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.” 

The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much. 

“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.” 

Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you. 

“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.” 

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses. 

The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him. 

“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”

Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering. 

You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision. 

Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise. 

“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”

You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling. 

Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice. 

Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted. 

“H-Holy shit–”

Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again. 

He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively. 

Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before. 

Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride. 

A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body. 

He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.

Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath. 

Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips. 

You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high. 

He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again. 

You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips. 

You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you. 

Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!” 

You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up. 

Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”

You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest. 

“Really?” 

He nearly faints at the look in your eyes. 

Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely? 

You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little. 

You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist. 

You look so fucking cute. 

How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?

He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels. 

You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now. 

He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.

It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race. 

Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.

“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?” 

You nod. 

“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing. 

He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.” 

Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes. 

“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.” 

Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer. 

“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you. 

Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash. 

He missed it last night. 

He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?” 

You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down. 

“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”

Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little. 

“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?” 

You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”

It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks. 

The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully. 

“I thought… since Jacob was back–”

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips. 

“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little. 

Yeah, he actually is. 

But he can’t tell you that, can he? 

He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.” 

You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.

Today, he treated you as though you were his. 

He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever. 

This is dangerous, he is dangerous. 

He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have. 

He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else. 

And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over. 

But in what world, would you ever run from him?

You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you. 

He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care. 

It’s all his anyway. 

-

Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you. 

The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that. 

He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply. 

On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him. 

“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?” 

“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head. 

Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”

The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little. 

“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him. 

“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?” 

“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something. 

But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.

“Two times?”

“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.

Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.

“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.” 

The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself. 

His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together. 

He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin. 

A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips. 

“Chandler and Heidi, right.” 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

[lowkeyerror]

Ours Together pt 3

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 8k

Notes: Agatha All Along Spoilers, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, intimacy bordering on smut but no actual smut, happy ending, everyone survives

Summary: Things get rocky between the coven as they work to get through the rest of trials and off of the road. It begins to feel like Agatha, Rio, and their fallen angel versus the rest of the witches.

An: Took me awhile to write this one, but it is longer than the other parts. This is the final chapter of Ours Together, so I hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to like, reply, reblog, and slide into my inbox with any questions about this fic. Thank you for reaading 🫶.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

You were trying to find a way to be ok with leaving Agatha behind. The argument that the road wasn’t real, wasn’t working anymore. Not when you could remember the feeling of your wings being severed.

“Looks like the next trial is up ahead.”

A cabin. It’s disarming enough, but you knew better. A glamorous home, and the gates of heaven were both omens on this trail.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mumble entering the wooden structure.

You were uninterested in what was to transpire until you came to the understanding that this was Agatha’s trial. That information made you focus more on quickly executing the task.

Learning that you had to Ouija was disappointing. Due to your previous affiliation you were not allowed to touch the boards. If an angel were too touch a Ouija board there was a chance that their soul would get lost with the others.

So you watched on edge as the others did the board. You couldn’t help, but laugh a little when Agatha pretended to be possessed. You even laughed a bit when board said that Death was here with you. However your laughter completely stopped when it kept spelling out punish Agatha.

When she let go of the board you knew it was going to be all bad. The witches in the coven turned on her pretty quickly.

“It’s clear what we have to do, punish Agatha.”

“Try again because you’re not touching her,” you kept your voice low and calm.

You could feel their eyes on you.

“Y/n it’s what the trial wants. You should know-”

You stop them there, “You’re right, I do know because I had to have my wings cut off. What I learned is what happens in these trials is painfully real. So I dare you to touch her.”

Rio stands by your side, arm loosely hanging over your shoulder, “I’m on her side.”

“That’s not fair. Agatha has literal Death and The Fallen Angel protecting her, what are we supposed to do?” Jen throws her hands up in exasperation.

It starts a bickering amongst everyone. They all send looks your way. It's not something you mind anymore. You had gotten used to hostile starts a long while ago.

“What if it's the only way?” Agatha says just so the two of you can hear.

“We will find another way,” Rio reassures the woman.

That's when the lights go dark. You stay close to Rio, forming an outward facing circle with the rest. Agatha had vanished from her spot.

“Agatha,” you call her name tentatively.

Its not until Teen flashes his light at the ceiling that you see a clearly possessed Agatha drop down. Everyone screams at her appearance.

“What the fuck?” Slips out of your mouth as you watch your lover crawl and swing her arms around.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Rio calls out tentatively.

“Oh my god.”

Agatha has Jen in her hold before anyone can do anything about it. You all try to get her to loosen her grip, but nothing works until Lilia hits the lights. Once she does you and Rio become frantic as Agatha disappears again.

“Agatha! Where is she, alright? Where is she!” Rio’s frustration grows.

You take her hand in yours, silently. Your eyes wandering the room because you’re still trying to find Agatha as well.

“What’s that?” Teen says as a almost translucent cloud forms in front of the stairs.

Your frown deepens, “A ghost.”

“I hate ghosts,” Rio grumbles as the image of a woman who is familiar to the both of you materializes.

Lilia asks the ghosts who she is. Evanora, answers and you can’t hide your look of irritation.

When Agatha speaks up from her spot on the stairs you feel relief wash over you. She’s ok, you breathe a little easier. Simultaneously, your heart breaks as you watch her pretend to be nonchalant about her mother possessing her.

“You must finish the road without Agatha, leave her with me.”

“No, no way!” Rio’s eyes burn into the ghost.

“Weren’t you guys fighting at some point before all this?”

You glare stays on Evanora, “Yeah, well, her mother can’t have her.”

The ghost floats towards Rio, who takes a step back. You block Evanora’s path, your eyes taking on that dangerous black color.

“Mom? Why do you hate me still?” Agatha comes down the stairs to question her mother with a vulnerability that you didn’t think anyone else would ever see.

“You were born evil. I ought to have killed you the moment you left my body.”

When you see a tear slide down Agatha’s face, you lose it. While the rest of the coven is taken aback by Evanora’s harsh words, you weigh your options.

“We have to go,” Jen says, turning to leave Agatha behind.

Agatha pleas are genuine as they fall from her lips, “Please take me with you. Don’t go. Don’t leave me with her I can be good. Please!”

“NO ONE IS LEAVING!” Your voice shakes the walls as you speak.

Jen tries to take a step forward, but she can’t in fact no one in the room can move freely except for you, Rio, and Agatha.

Evanora sees your display of power and tries to hide herself in Agatha’s body.

“Oh no you don’t, you raggedy bitch.”

You’re quick to lay your wrists against each other and open your palms outward. The magic that emits is black just like your wings. The power hits the ghost. She lets out a cry of agony, looking wildly around as her soul is being melted away by your magic.

“Holy shit,” Teen says as they all watch it unfold.

“You’re a fool. An angel ripped from heaven because of my daughter’s sinister impact, yet you protect her. She doesn't love you, she's incapable. She’s evil reincarnated, she will never-” Evanora’s ramble is quick and panicked as she begins to fade from existence.

You let up on your attack just to get closer to her. You squat down to her level, “Being in love with Agatha is one of the best things that could've ever happened to me. I will never regret it. She has always been good to me, even when I haven’t deserved it. For what you’ve done to her, I will erase you from every plane of existence because you, Evanora Harkness deserve a fate worse than eternal damnation.”

Your wings come out without your permission, making the moment look like something from a movie. With a single hand you begin unleashing your power on the ghost again. Your eyes, black and unblinking, your wings spread wide, your body firm in it’s place as you watch the ghost squirm underneath you.

Her words are incoherent as the screams take over. Her eyes begging for any other fate than this. You black magic drowning her out, until nothing is left. The screams are gone, her soul is gone. Not resting, not in a better place, or a worse place, just gone.

The trial had ended and the exit makes itself present yet, everyone is still frozen in place. Not by your voice, but by what they had just witnessed. Slowly you stand from your spot. Though you want to comfort Agatha, you turn your attention to the coven.

“If you ever think about leaving Agatha behind, I will kill you. I don’t care how old you are, I don’t care about what you want from the road, I do not give a single fuck about your feelings. I honestly hoped you’d shoot your magic at Agatha and just fucking die, but no we have to be on this stupid fucking road,” your anger rises with each word you speak.

“Y/n,” Agatha is gentle as she calls your name.

You shake your head, “Let’s just go.”

You march out of the exit with Agatha and Rio following behind you, and the rest following behind them.

“Sweetheart, I did say we'd go after one more trial,” Rio is careful as she speaks with you, back on the road.

“I’m not leaving her with them. If you have to go then go,” you can feel your jaw clench.

“Hey, I’m not the one who was going to abandon our girl, don't snap at me,” Rio says.

You take a deep breath, “Sorry, that just really pissed me off.”

“I know, I don’t think I remember the last time you destroyed a soul like that,” you can see the worry in her eyes as she looks at you.

“She deserved it. That woman was a piece of shit. Nothing she said was true,” you look at Agatha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Agatha,” Rio calls her name but she doesn’t answer. “Agatha,” she tries again more firm this time still nothing.

Its not until Death stands directly in front of the woman, her hands on the others shoulder, that Agatha reacts to her.

“I think we should camp for the night,” Rio says softly, and Agatha nods.

You turn to face the coven. They stop as soon as you turn, “Set up camp.”

“We always set it up, while you the go rendezvous for however long you want,” Teen talks back to you.

“Kid, don’t start with me,” your tone has a warning edge to it.

“No, I think I will. You’re not even a witch, why should we listen to you about the witches’ road?”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t know half as much as I do about the witches’ road.”

He stands his ground, “I’ve studied the ballad, I have notes. I am a witch.”

“ I’ve studied the ballad. I have notes. Blah blah blah,” you mock him.

Your words stir something inside the boy. Something that has the magic simmering at the edge of his fingers.

“I bet it was a harsh reality to deal with, once you realized you’d never go back to heaven. Considering that's probably where Nicholas went.”

It happens too quickly for anyone to stop you. You shove the teenager against a tree with an unimaginable amount of force. The tree cracks under the impact. You have two fistfuls of his shirt, tightly wound in your grip.

Your breathing is erratic and your eyes are once again black. The witches around you are screaming and pleading, but you aren’t focused on them.

“You don't get to speak about him like you know him. No one here knows him. You don't know what happened, so stop hypothesizing about my son’s death. It will get you killed, boy.”

“Y/n, let him go,” Agatha’s voice breaks through all the others.

You don’t get the chance to release the boy, as you feel yourself being repelled away from him. The magic is strong enough to push you off, but you don't fall down.

His hands are glowing with blue sparks and you see a crown forming around his head.

“Look who’s grown,” you don't back down from him.

“More than you can say for you son.”

You growl, “DOWN.”

The road seems to shift with your voice. The teen hits his knees. His magic vanishes from his hands. You don’t let him get the chance to speak before you blast him with your power.

He screams, but you don’t care. You stalk closer to him. You can feel hands on you trying to pull you back from him. Yet your vision is tunneled in on him. You strike him with your magic once more and he doubles over.

“Y/n look at me baby.”

Rio stands in your way, blocking you from the teen. You ignore her words but reach for her waist. You grab her dagger and hold it against the boy’s neck.

“You know what losing my son taught me, kid? Sometimes, boys just die,” a single tear rolls down your cheek as you smile sadistically at him.

“Can’t you do something to stop her?” Jen says.

“She’ll kill him,” Alice follows.

“Working on it,” Rio says, gears turning in her head, hoping to find a solution.

“It’s not his time,” Lilia murmurs.

You add pressure to the blade, watching him try his best not to move.

“Please, please I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I can be-"

“Good?” You cut him off.

His words, stuck in his throat, as he realized the similarities between himself and Agatha.

“It won’t bring him back,” you hear Agatha’s voice in your ear.

Her hand is firm on your forearm, keeping you from digging into the teen’s neck.

“Did you hear what he said about Nicky? This little shit deserves it.”

“Love, please,” Agatha tries to reason with you. “He wouldn’t want you to do this.”

You let out an animalistic grunt before pulling the dagger away from the teen’s neck and shoving it into the ground. You stand abruptly and walk away from the group, trying to cool off.

“Word to the wise Billy, do not go pissing off people more powerful than you,” Agatha’s voice is sarcastic, but her gaze travels the boys face trying to find injury.

“You knew? Did you-”

“Yes I knew, you're as predictable as your mother and no I didn't put the sigil on you.”

Lilia speaks up, “I did, for your protection.”

“And the plot thickens,” Rio teases.

“Your familiar almost killed him,” Alice points out.

Rio’s dagger is back in her hand. She twirls it around a bit, “Are we surprised? Billy here, does not know when he should shut the fuck up. Talking about a dead boy, he should be ashamed of himself. Nicky isn't some tool you can use to get a response.”

Billy looks to Agatha for back up, but instead finds her cold stare.

“I know Y/n would've regretted killing you, even if it doesn’t seem like it now. That was more for her than you. I don't ever want to hear his name come out of your mouth again. Understand?”

He nods, his gaze not meeting Agatha’s eyes, “I understand.”

“Great, well go ahead and set up camp, while we go deal with Y/n. Unless anyone has an issue with our rendezvous,” Agatha looks around for objections, she gets none.

Rio and Agatha take off in the direction you were headed. They walk side by side, looking for any sign of you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that before” Agatha looks to Rio.

The Green Witch mirror her look of worry, “Me either.”

They find you sitting by the edge of a creek. Your knees your chest as you stare past the water. The anger no longer seeping off of you like before. They sit on either side of you, slightly disappointed when you curl further into yourself.

“Sorry,” is the only word to leave your lips.

Agatha shakes her head, “It’s my fault.”

You and Rio try to protest, but Agatha simply raises a hand. “I let them believe whatever lies have been spun about my relationship with Nicholas. I believed them to be all less hurtful than the truth. It was ok when it was just me they antagonized, but if I knew you would've been their target, I would've come clean.”

“It’s none of their business. The truth would do no good for them. They have no empathy,” you mumble.

“How can you be so sure?” Rio is cautious when she reaches out towards you.

You take her hand and hold it up to your cheek, seeking comfort. Agatha sees this and moves so her shoulder is against yours, her arm tucks it self securely around your waist. Rio’s head falls onto your shoulder. You feel yourself un-tense at the contact.

“They heard my story, they saw our scars, they heard what Evanora said about Agatha, and yet, they still want to pick trivial fights,” your anger was replaced by exhaustion.

“He’s young,” Agatha tries to defend.

“It’s not just Billy. They wanted to leave you behind Aggie. What if Rio and I weren’t there, then what? They would’ve let her have you.”

You blink as the tears being to well in your eyes.

“I can't blame them, sweetheart. I would've done the same if it were any of their trials,” Agatha confesses.

Another sigh escapes you, “I’m assuming Billy made the road as well, while we’re on the topic of frustrating things?”

Agatha nods a few times, “I’m pretty sure. His powers they’re like his mothers, very tied up in his emotions.”

“I was going to kill him,” exasperation on your tongue.

Rio kisses your collarbone, “You didn’t, we wouldn't have let you.”

“He’s right, I’ve thought about it a lot you know? Nicky is somewhere up there like I was. I could’ve been there for him,” you look up to the sky as you speak.

“He’s in safest place he could be,” Agatha bows her head slightly.

“Who knew this made up road would be so stressful?” Rio concedes defeated by the things that have happened.

“At least it brought us back together. I don't think I could’ve spent another century, burning from the inside,” You attempt to joke.

“I think I know something that could relieve some of the stress,” Agatha says suggestively.

She stands, two pairs of eyes watching her intently as she begins to peel off her clothes.

“W- what are you doing?” You stutter, but don't look away from her.

She sits her clothes on a nearby rock, and struts into the creek.

“I’m taking a dip, you two are welcome to join me.”

Your jaw opens slightly at her proposal, “What if they see us?”

Rio stands as well, following Agatha’s suit, “I doubt that they would dare say anything after such a powerful display from our sweet angel.”

“Come on baby, loosen up a bit,” Agatha speaks from her spot in the water.

Rio slides up next to the witch, whispering something in her ear, causing them both to giggle.

“You know I’m supposed to be sulking,” you say getting to your feet, pulling off your clothes.

“Sulking, soaking, same difference,” Rio argues.

The water is pleasantly warm as you sink into it. The three of you bare, in the faux night of the road. It reminds you of the early parts of your relationship. Both women always up for dip in whatever body of water they came across. Nights spent in bodies of water, bathed by the soft light of the moon. Dark purple marks from the eager lips of your lovers.

The memories brought a slight color to your cheeks.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Agatha and Rio circle you, in somewhat of a predatory fashion.

“I bet she’s thinking about all the things we used to do in the water. Am I right doll?”

“Perhaps,” you say coyly. “But if you think after centuries, I’m going to give myself to you on the witches’ road, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“Fair, but a couple of kisses wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Rio wraps her arms around you from behind.

She trails a few kisses up the side of your neck.

“I suppose not,” you crane your neck to give her access.

“I think love bites are fair game,” Agatha’s hands find your waist. Her mouth latching on to the opposite side of your neck. She sucks with delicate force, playfully biting, before soothing the space with her tongue.

“Mhm,” you hum, the pleasure getting to you.

Your hands rest on Agatha’s stomach slowly climbing up to her breasts. You can’t help but play with them in your hands. You lick your lips recalling, how they felt in your mouth. Her moans when you would suck and tease her nipples.

“I thought we weren’t doing this here,” Agatha said breathlessly, as you play with one of her nipples between your fingers.

“We’re not,” you say, with a warmth spreading across your body.

“Then-”

You cut her off with a sensual kiss. She moans in surprise. She slips her tongue into your mouth and you suck on it teasingly. The woman laughs at your antics, which breaks the kiss.

It isn’t a moment after that you feel a hand wrap around your neck. You let Rio pull you into a hungry kiss, turning you body fully towards her. She’s trying to be dominant, but when your teeth tug on her lower lip, she lets out a whimper.

She ends up kissing down your body. Her lips stop right above your scar. She makes eye contact with you as her tongue meticulously traces over it.

It doesn’t go away, you all knew it wouldn't because it had already healed on it’s own. Yet she looks up at you with a pout that makes your knees weak.

“It was worth a shot,” she speaks innocently.

You want nothing more than to grab a fistful of her hair and yank her up to kiss your lips.

“That was hot,” Agatha says, watching with dark eyes.

“We have to stop,” the disappointment in your tone makes the other women chuckle.

“Awe, does baby want to cross her own boundaries?”

You separate from them and make your way back to land. An irritated groan leaving your lips, “We’re not fucking on the road.”

“Don’t be too mad about it hon, this was supposed to be relaxing,” Agatha teases following you.

Rio is the last out of the water, “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

Going back to the makeshift camp, puts a sour flavor in your mouth, but it’s better than the burning rage you had felt when you left. Everyone is asleep when you return except for Billy.

“I wanted to apologize, for what I said. It wasn’t fair to blow up at you like that,” his remorse was real, you could tell.

“It’s fine, kid. I should be apologizing to you, hundreds of years old and I still can’t keep my temper in check. Let’s just squash it,” you start to make yourself comfortable.

“Did you mean what you said, about letting Agatha kill us?”

You suck in a breath unwilling to lie, “Yeah, I did. It might be hard for you to understand, but I’ve spent centuries away from Agatha and Rio. Having them back is everything to me, and the road strives to take them from me. I would do anything to get us off of the road and nothing will change that.”

“I- I understand. My brother, I would do anything to see him again. Whatever it takes.”

Agatha smiles, “Spoken like a true witch.”

“Word to the wise kid, power plays are never as personal as they seem. In this life, things are taken from you if you hesitate for even a moment. Don’t be afraid of your power and never hesitate.”

“Pretty sound advice for someone who isn’t a witch isn’t it?” Rio teases Billy.

He laughs awkwardly and nods.

“Get some rest, we have a road to conquer,” Agatha’s tone was parental.

Billy does as instructed, feeling better after the talk.

Your stare lingers on him a bit longer. A hand rests on your shoulder, “He’s fine.”

You nod to yourself, “Yeah.”

It’s easier falling asleep than it should've been. Your body is completely exhausted from using your powers so frequently. Time is strange on the road, you couldn't really tell how much time had passed due to the darkness.

“We gotta go now!”

You are startled awake by a panicked voice. You’re quick to get to your feet.

“Where’s the fire?”

You’re damn near being pulled along the road, as you hear steps running all around you.

“The seven are here.”

That sentence seems to shake the sleep from your body. Your eyes open wide as you begin to pick up your pace.

“Then why are we moving so slowly?”

“I’m running as fast as I can,” Lilia speaks, out of breath.

“We could use analog magic to fly?” Billy suggests it and the witches groan as a collective.

“I don’t hear anyone else coming up with ideas,” you say in his defense.

“Blast them with your angel powers,” Jen exclaims.

“Not an angel and I'm not doing a 7 on 1 attack,” you say.

One of the seven ends up catching up to you and like Jen suggested you blast them with your power. She gives you an ‘I told you so' look and you mock her.

“Brooms now,” Agatha says breaking off a branch from a tree.

Once everyone has a working broom you expand your wings and shoot up into the air.

“I thought we were any to have the coolest moment ever, yet here she goes upstaging us,” Rio smirks as she takes off, Agatha isn’t far behind her.

You don't remember the last time you flew prior to your time on the road. This is different than your trial. The cool air surrounds you as your wings flap with a familiarity. You feel free for the first time in a long time. A genuine smile takes a place on your face as you fly.

Agatha and Rio can't take their eyes off of you. It has been too long since they've seen you move freely in the sky. To them, it looks like you are home. Your smile makes them do the same, sharing a look of love between the pair. The shared adoration for you, fills their hearts. A soft fondness in their eyes as they fly side by side. Their love for each other unspoken, but heavy.

The road decides to break up the moment, forcing everyone back on to the path. You end up landing gracefully while most of the others take a rough landing.

It's no surprise that you land in front of another trial. Just like with your trial, everyone rushes in to avoid any of the wandering seven. Once inside it feels like a distasteful costume party. The witches dressed as their famous caricatures, while you have tiny fake black wings on your back with fake horns to accompany it. The only person who looks more ridiculous in your opinion is Rio.

“Why the fuck am I Skeletor?”

You giggle, but place your hands on her fake blue abs, “I think it’s all in good fun.”

Your laughter stops in its tracks when you get a glimpse of the ceiling. Knives dangle overhead threaten to fall. You see the tarot spread and immediately think of Lilia.

“Well looks like you’re up Lilia,” Alice places a hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Who am I reading for?”

The others chime with thoughts and theories, but for you the answer is quite clear.

“Your trial, your reading,” you say cutting through all of the chatter.

“Smart girl,” Lilia says beginning her own reading.

When the death card comes up, you can see attention shift to Rio.

She throws her hands up, “All roads lead to me, we already know that.”

The exit opens, but before anyone can step through it the seven are rapidly approaching.

“I’m tired of running,” Lilia stands her ground.

You shake your head, “You’ve got to get out of here, its not your time yet.”

“But-”

“But nothing, you’re a damn good witch, but right now you have to go,” you send her towards the door.

“What’re you doing?” Agatha asks with panic in her voice.

You don’t respond to her, “Billy, if you want to show off that power, now is the time."

Your powers manifested in your hands as you begin to shoot it at members of the seven.

“I’ll try,” magic sparks like electricity at the tips of his fingers.

“Y/n, we have to-”

You shook your head, “Get them out of here Rio. The kid and I got it, just have Alice on standby.”

Rio doesn’t reply, instead she shoves you towards the exit. She uses one hand to push you out of Lilia’s trial and with other she throws out the teen.

She closes the door behind the teen. You begin to bang on the door. You try hitting it with your power but it doesn’t budge. Your fist hits the door a few times, before Agatha pulls you back from the door.

“Why would she do that? She can’t- Agatha, we have to help her. We have too,” you were on the brink of being a mess.

Agatha grabs your face in her hands, trying to get you to focus on her. She gives you a tiny smile, “Sweetheart, they are locked in with her not the other way around. She’s la muerte.”

On cue, you hear the sound of screams coming from the room you were just in. You listen hard and pick up the unforgettable sound of a sword piercing flesh.

“Should we…” Billy says, ready for a fight.

“Easy there tiger, sounds like she has it under control,” Alice keeps the boy back with an exaggerated grab.

Rio doesn’t walk, but skips out of the space where Lilia’s trial was held. Her dagger in hand, glistening with blood. The gleeful nature of her return nearly makes you forget that you were in danger

“ The seven are now the zero,” she says spinning the knife in her hands.

“You could’ve done that the whole time?” Jen questions Rio.

Rio shrugs, “I don’t like getting my hands dirty, too much paperwork if I’m the one that does the killing.”

Instead of stopping to rest like the other trials, you decide to continue on. There’s only one member of the coven to test, before you could finally leave this hell hole.

You can basically see the nerves bouncing off of the kid. If this is the end, then whatever is next is for him.

“Well, looks like your last up kid,” you place your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m ready for whatever it is,” he steels his jaw.

“Just remember, take what you want. Don’t hesitate,” you lose pace with him to fall back with Rio and Agatha.

“Not too long ago you were trying to kill him, and now you’re giving him advice. Look how far you’ve come,” Rio teases you.

You roll your eyes, “I’m just trying to get out of here.”

“No soft spot for him?” Agatha pushes farther.

A smile tugs at the ends of your lips but you hide it well, “Nope. ”

“Guys I think we have a problem,” Alice’s voice calls for your attention.

A row of shoes in front of everyone seems to make silence fall across the group.

“Our shoes,” you hear the anger simmering beneath Agatha’s tone.

“We’re back where we started,” Alice says in disbelief.

“The witches’ road is a circle,” Billy adds on.

“And this is the finish line?” Jen is just as shocked as Alice.

You see Agatha try to use her powers and as nothing happens her face begins to contort into a scowl, “That’s it?”

She glares at Billy before yelling again, “That’s it!”

“Well, maybe we passed the trial?” Lilia tries to reason with the group.

“Then how exactly do we get off?” Agatha’s anger finally tips over.

“Well maybe we-”

“IF YOU DON’T KNOW KEEP QUIET!” She tries to stalk towards the boy, but you’re quick to pull her back into you.

You look to Rio, who carefully watches the interaction in front of her. It’s strange, because you three are the only ones who know that the road has been manifested by Billy. Therefore it is technically his domain, meaning he designed it like this.

“We need to keep going,” Agatha says with her voice low.

The rest of the group quickly breaks into chaos shouting their refusal.

“FINE! STAY HERE!” Agatha growls at the group.

Billy keeps staring at the shoes.

Rio speaks up, “Go ahead, put them on.”

“What do the shoes have to do with anything? “ Alice questions.

“Well you took them off for respect for the road right? Has the road been respectful too you?” Rio points out.

“Screw the road,” Billy says before slipping his shoes on.

No one gets a chance to say anything else. Instantaneously you find yourself confined in a dark space. You panic, feeling all around you until you find a zipper. Once you're free from the bag, you notice that you're in an all white room.

Billy, Agatha, and Jen all appear in the same situation you are in. You leave the body bag and look around.

“Where are we?” Billy asks.

“My basement give or take,” Agatha answers him.

“Where are the others?” Jen asks.

“Not too far,” you answer her.

She squints, “How can you be sure?”

“Cause my insides aren’t boiling from being away from Rio.”

“But Agatha’s right here?”

You sigh, “It’s an and/or type of thing. Meaning if one of them is too far it burns, significantly less than if they were both far, but still burns nonetheless.”

“Glad to know they’re close, but that doesn’t make us any less trapped,” Billy points out that the door is sealed.

“These are grow lights, are we supposed to grow something here?”

“There’s no water or soil,” you point out.

Agatha huffs in irritation, “Sure seems like another stupid fucking trial.”

She digs around in the body bag and gasps lightly, “We do have our personal effects.”

She pulls out her locket, causing the others to dig in their bags. You didn’t come on the road with anything so you weren’t surprised to find your bag empty.

You see Agatha struggling to put on the necklace and walk over to her. You take it from her hands and gently sweep her hair out of the way. Knowing what’s inside the locket, keeps your hands steady as you hook the chain.

You see her smile, relief plastering over her features, “That’s better.”

You go to step away, but she grabs your wrist, keeping you close by.

Billy isn’t so lucky with his notebook, “It’s worthless.”

The body bags disappear once he tosses the book in there.

“Well, I guess the road agrees,” you say sarcastically.

It’s then that the grow lights flicker.

“And now we have our countdown,” Agatha points out.

Jen leans against the wall watching the countdown. Agatha can’t help, but antagonize the woman as their time ticks away.

“I’ll be damned if I let us all die here, after making it this far,” Jen peels herself off the wall to stand in the center of the room.

“You don’t have any magic,” you tell her without any animosity.

“Well she saved me, maybe she doesn’t need it,” Billy points out.

It’s at this point where Jen mentions Boston. You can’t help it as your mouth falls open and you look at Agatha. Her eyes also opening wide, while staring at Jen.

“You need to do the unbinding ritual,” you tell them.

“Doesn’t she need the witch that bound her to do that?” Billy says not connecting the dots.

“Agatha? Are you the one who bound me?” Jen says, rightful frustration in her tone.

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at her, crossing your arms over your chest, “Now is not the time.”

“You nonstop sociopath!”

“You’re the one who bound her?” Billy can’t believe it.

“How did you even know I was in Boston?” Agatha questions you.

“Old habits die hard, you always went to sell your services in Boston when times got rough, but enough deflecting, do the ritual.”

“You kept me like this for 100 years?” Jen yells.

Agatha tries to defend herself, “ I didn’t know it was you. It was the 1920’s I did the odd spell for bank notes. The patriarchy really shelled out to shush a lady. It was bind or burn!”

“100 years!”

As much as you wanted to push to get the ritual over with, you knew Jen was justified in her anger. That was time that she’d lost forever. You knew better than anyone what it felt like to walk around for years on end as a shell of your former self.

“This is so awkward.”

Jen pulls Agatha into her and starts the ritual. Once it’s over and her magic is running through her she sobs. The reunion of her and her powers means her journey is over. She vanishes from the road.

“Where did she go?”

“The road gave her what she was missing. And now she’s gone,” Agatha deadpans.

You can sense the shift in her attitude immediately. It feels as though she and the teen are facing off against each other.

“This can end right now. I want power, you have power, juice me up.”

“So you get what you're missing and I’m left here to rot?”

You scoff at him, “She could’ve killed you at any point by now. When you were bleeding out of your side or when my knife was at your neck kid, use your head.”

“No one was talking to you, do you even want anything from the road ? Shouldn’t you have disappeared by now too?” Billy tries to pick a fight with you.

“You are the only thing standing in the way of what I want,” you tell him seriously.

“So what it’s 2 against 1 now? I’m not scared of either of you,” he gets in Agatha face, but keeps his glare on you.

The gesture pisses you off and you march over to them. Agatha puts her hand out, motioning for you to stay back. You reluctantly follow her gesture

“What a good little familiar,” Billy directs at you.

Before you can do anything Agatha interrupts, “Sit.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to find your brother."

His whole energy changes, “What?”

She sits down, “That’s what you want right? Tommy isn’t waiting out there. Not in a body anyway. Why do you think Rio came here to begin with? She knows you could do it for him.”

“Do what?”

The teen was so dense that you couldn’t help your outburst, “Give him another life. Another spin around the dance floor.”

His eyes snap to yours, “You think I can bring Tommy back?”

“Time to grow up, kid,” you say to him.

Agatha pats the floor and he cautiously sits down across from her.

You watch her work in only the way she can. Her instructions clear and concise. Just as prodding as they need to be to stir his memories, and get him talking. In another life she could’ve had a coven of disciples.

She keeps him focused on his breathing. Though she has no magic in this moment, you could feel it in her aura. The way she carries herself, there will always be a witch underneath it all.

When she grabs Billy, the lights flicker. Things become intense quickly. He hyperventilates, but Agatha holds him as he begins to rock.

He begins ramble about a dying boy his questions tug at your heart strings, but you remind him, “Don’t hesitate, Billy. Don’t be afraid of your power.”

“Am I killing this boy so my brother can live?”

He lets out a strangled scream, and then he’s gone.

The lights in the room are almost completely gone. Agatha sits still her place.

“No, Billy. Sometimes… boys die.”

It breaks you to hear her like that. You sit behind her and she leans back into your arms. The lights fade faster.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left when had the chance,” she says unable to look at you.

You just hold her tighter, “Seeing you again has meant everything to me.”

She opens the locket and you both look at the strands of Nicky’s hair. She takes it out of it’s place, finding a small dandelion seed. Agatha sniffles and you bury your head in her shoulder. Your wings expand, wrapping around the both of you.

She looks between your wings and the seed, “Out of death, life.”

She lifts your face out of her shoulder, and swipes the small seed across your tear stained cheeks. She quickly buries it in a crack of the grounds foundation.

You watch as a dandelion quickly sprouts and the room begins to shake. You are quick to hop to your feet as the lights turn back on and the walls begins to shake. Dirt begins to fill the room, much like with your trial.

“What’s happening?”

“The trial is over, we can’t stay here, come on” you begin look towards the previously locked exit.

Agatha pushes the door, but it doesn’t budge. You join the effort to help her, but it’s like something is still blocking it.

“Stand back,” you push her behind you, ready to shoot your powers at the door.

Just as you’re about to blast it, the door is opens. You and Agatha rush through, covered in dirt

On the other side is the coven, who watch the two of stumble into Agatha’s backyard. Your back hits the grass and you close your eyes. You can’t remember the last time you were this relieved to be on the earth’s soil.

The peace doesn’t last long as Agatha tries to use her powers and it doesn't work.

“You have to be fucking kidding me? I WANT MY PRIZE,” Agatha exclaims.

You look at Billy from your spot on the floor, “What gives kid, everyone gets a prize, but her?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Rio ruffles the boy hair with a laugh, “Isn’t it obvious? Billy, conjured up the witches’ road.”

The other witches turn to him, with their jaws dropped. He begins to sputter and point wildly at you three, “Are we seriously going to believe them? Death, the Fallen Angel, and Agatha. What do they even know?”

“We know that the road was never real,” you say sitting up in your spot.

“But Agatha said she walked the road?” Alice points out.

“Is it surprising that she lied?” Jen chimes in.

“She didn’t lie,” Rio defends.

Your jaw clenches, you close your eyes and take a breath. You speak calmly, “Agatha, please… tell them truth about the road.”

She plays with the locket around her neck, “The ballad… I made it, with our son. That’s why I know it’s originally coven 2, it’s about me and him. It wasn’t even about witches, it was about the winding roads we used to have to travel.”

“What really happened to him?” Lilia is the one to ask.

Neither Agatha or Rio speak up. You bring your knees to your chest and face away from the coven, “Nicky, was born sick… he wasn't- he couldn’t. He was made from scratch. With tears of a fallen angel and a heartbeat from death.”

“Rotten ingredients,” Rio doesn’t hide the crack in her voice.

You nod, “Agatha was the only one who could provide him with flesh. It didn’t matter, how much with loved him. Our ingredients just never mixed well. Nicky wasn’t the first, but Agatha begged and pleaded.”

“And threatened,” Rio says quietly.

“Rio had already broken the rules for me. To do it again so soon, was a big risk for her.”

Alice was the one to ask, “What did you do?”

Rio bites her lip, “I could only give him time.”

You bury your head in your knees, “Being around him could’ve gotten Rio in trouble, so we all decided it would be best for us to keep our distance from Nicky.”

“How much time did he get?” Billy asks.

“He was only 6,” Agatha clutches the necklace harshly.

You bury yourself further into your knees as if it would protect you from her words. Rio looks at the ground, unable to relive this yet again.

The coven looks between the three of you, piecing the rest of it together. The tragedy of it all displayed across each one of your bodies.

“The one day I didn’t kill any witches, he died. I went on a rampage after that, I used the ballad to lure witches into my trap. Then I’d get them to attack me and drain them of their powers,” Agatha explains wiping her own tears.

“So that’s what you were going to do to us?” Billy asks, but his tone isn’t accusing.

“Pretty much,” she says with a bored tone.

Jen interrupts, “So you knew it was him the whole time, even with the sigil?”

“Well as soon as the road appeared, I had a hunch.”

They all begin to go back and forth about how it was all for nothing and unfair. The spew words of negativity at Agatha for hiding the truth from all of them. It doesn’t sit right with you or Rio.

“Are guys even listening to yourselves? Alice you aren’t cursed anymore, Lilia you’re done running from your powers, Jen you’re unbound, and Billy you reincarnated Tommy, all thanks to Agatha. So, what are you bitching about? She helped you all achieve what you wanted, whether you want to admit it or not,” Rio goes off on the group.

“She deserves this and as her coven you know that,” you say, getting to your feet.

“Fine, I’ll do it, just don’t kill me” Billy speaks up.

“Scouts honor,” Agatha says as Billy gears up to shoot her.

You stand next to Rio, leaning on her slightly. She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you further into her side. She feels your eyes on her and meets them. You slowly glance over to Agatha and Billy and then back at her. She shakes her head and you nod to yourself.

When Billy shoots Agatha the coven gasp seeing Agatha’s power in real time, sucking the magic out of the boy.

“She’s going to kill him,” Alice mumbles under her breath.

“She won’t,” Lilia and Jen say at the same time.

Agatha hears them and subtly surprised by their confidence in her. Upon hearing it, she cuts the ties with Billy. He stumbles to the ground, but is quickly helped by the rest of the coven.

“Finally, everyone get what they wanted?” Rio claps her hands together.

The all hum in agreement.

“Great, now get out,” she points to the exit of the backyard.

It starts a commotion again as they start to talk over each other.

“SILENCE!” Your voice echoes causing them all to stop talking. “I get it, you’re a coven now, found family yay, etcetera, etcetera. As a familiar who has been separated from her witches, I would really hate for you to get in the way of what would be our first time alone together in centuries. That would really piss me off.”

They murmur in consensus.

“We’ll let you know when it’s ok to come over,” Agatha says shooing them away in the process.

They all pile into Billy’s car and the three of you wave them away. As soon as they pull off, you enter Agatha’s home.

“Well, now what?” Rio asks.

Agatha flicks her fingers replacing her dirt covered clothes, before doing the same to you.

“I don’t know about you, but my back has been begging for a mattress after sleeping on that awful ground,” Agatha cracks her back.

“Pillows,” you nod in agreement.

The three of you climb up the stairs to the bedroom. Once you’re inside, you fall face first into the middle of the bed. Moaning in pleasure as the bed melds to hold your body.

“I hope to hear more of that later,” Rio lays in the space to your right.

Agatha lays to your left, “Such a pretty sound, sweetheart.”

You groan, turning your head between the two women, “Yes, later we can do that, but now it’s time to sleep. So less talking, more cuddling.”

“It’s not even 5 pm.”

“I can go sleep on the couch if you want to argue with me,” you tell them.

“No,” they say in unison.

You smile, “That’s what, I thought. Now, hold me.”

Agatha and Rio’s fingers intertwine as they wrap their arms around you. It’s warm and safe, the horrors of the road, no longer haunting.

You too, had gotten what you wanted from the road. It was this. Rio and Agatha; you all back together. For a moment, having a simple domestic life.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, especially now that Agatha had her own little coven of chaos. Yet the thought of it made you smile. As long as the three of you were together, everything would work out alright.

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 4 :)