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astoryisaloveaffair · 2 years ago

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Fix You - Chapter 15 - High and Dry

*gif by @pedrohub

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit!! 18+!

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence, drugs, sex fantasies. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! I hope this doesn’t disappoint! It is a bit shorter than my chapters in this fic usually are but ending it where I did felt right, and I don’t want to beat you over the head with F E E L I N G S. Please keep in mind for this chapter that I am continuing based off the exact themes from Triple Frontier. If you find some things in Triple Frontier offensive, I probably wouldn’t continue reading. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

* If a character is speaking in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this 🫠

Suggested Songs: “High and Dry” by Radiohead, “Breathe Me” by Sia, “Demons” by Guster, “Cry” by Cigarettes After Sex, “Cold Little Heart” by Michael Kiwanuka

For a few seconds you can’t even figure out what you’re looking at. Or maybe you can, but your brain doesn’t want to process it, the black of the night and the black of the gun meld together so there isn’t a clear outline.

It’s the shiny glint off the gun barrel under the streetlight that makes it real, and then you startle again when a male voice calls to you, muffled through the door.

“Get out of the car!!

You blink, your hand on your chest slowly inching towards your phone that you stashed into your bra in order to not carry a purse at the fair.

“Ah ah ah. No moving except open the door or I will blow your fucking brains out. You be good, I won’t hurt you. Get out.”

Your thoughts race and it feels like you’re silent for almost five whole minutes but you know it’s only seconds, because your hand reaches for the door.

You’re quick enough to figure out that if you try to put the key back in the ignition, he will shoot you before you can leave. If you pull out your phone, he will shoot you before you can place a call. If you try to hide, he could break the window in and grab you and it will make him pissed off.

Your only option here is to fight. You have no idea what this man’s intentions are and you are not going to ignore any chance you may have. Maybe if you hit him and ran—-

You swallow and open the door.

Immediately a gloved hand shoots in and grabs you by your hair, yanking you out of your seat and stumbling to your feet. There’s no respite once you catch your balance, as the man’s other hand pushes you hard in the chest back against the hard shell of your car and covers your mouth with the most foul smelling gloved hand you’d ever smelt.

It’s then that you notice, before you can even try to fight and make a break for it, that there isn’t just one man. It’s four. And all are dressed in black with masks on, completely encircling you. One presses a gun right up under your raised jaw, the other two aim at you from a distance.

There’s no way you can run. You can’t fight off four men, it would be suicide. But you’re not sure what other alternative you have. They might kill you anyways. Or they might let you go…after getting what they want. What they want could be worse. Your brain shuts down in panic, your eyes watering because your body will not allow you to close your eyes out of adrenaline or fear.

Then he speaks to you again.

“Where is the money”. You simply continue to stare, confused.

The man leans in closer, where his nose would be under the mask almost touching your own. It does nothing to dull how rank his breath and B.O. is.

“I’m going to let you talk, you be quiet and do not scream or I shoot you. Yes?”

You nod erratically, and he takes the rancid glove off your mouth.

For a moment you do consider screaming. But it wouldn't matter. By the time someone would even make it all the way across the parking lot to help you’d already be dead.

He asks again. “Where is the money?”

“What money?” You scrunch you our brow and you can hear your voice wavering. They know how scared you are. The gun against your neck pushes deeper, and you can feel the metal forming a bruise with how oppressive it is. “I–I don’t know what you—I have my credit card! You can take it, please have it!” Your right hand gropes its way into the open door of your car like you could magically summon the wallet to your hand.

“No. The money. The money they stole. Where is it?! They your sweethearts, yes? They share the money with you, killed many of us. We come for the money.”

Your heart drops into your stomach as the night’s events flash before you at hyperspeed.

“How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper?...

Fuck. Fuck. But why would they come for you?

“I—I don’t know where it is. I, I understand now. I just learned this, I know what you’re talking about but I don’t have it, I don’t know where it is, they didn’t tell me anything about this, I swear—”

Your head almost recoils back with the force of his gloved hand, the large palm connecting to your cheek, leaving it stinging and your nose feeling like someone ripped it open. Your eyes water once more as you struggle not to start crying. Stay strong. You have to stay strong. Do not cry.

The man who spoke to you starts pulling you away from your car and into the dark, and despite it being an idea you’d already talked yourself out of, your instinct is to resist. “I told you, I don’t know where it is! I don’t! No–I’m not going anywhere! I don’t care how much you hit me–”

One of them turns to the other, rapidly speaking in Spanish that, thank god, you know just enough to interpret.

[“We should just kill this whore, then kill the big one’s other woman and take the baby. They can always get a new whore. They will come for the baby.”]

And suddenly it’s like your brain is the most clear it’s every been. “No! No, I’ll go! Take me, they’ll come for me, I promise. They will. And—and I’m easier to transport than a baby. You’d have to take care of it right?? Until they come?? That would be a lot of work! I’m—-I won’t fight I swear! Please just take me I promise you’ll get the money. Okay?”

The men look at each other, sending some secret silent message you can’t interpret. You look at the one standing in front of you. You can barely even see his eyes in the dark.

“Please. They’ll come.”

And then you don’t remember anything else.

It took everything he had in him not to turn and look at you, to shoot up off the couch and peer out that window to watch you leave, to rip the door open and run to you, apologizing for all of it. But he didn’t.

Instead, he sat there with his head in his hands, eyes screwed shut to keep the threatening tears from spilling out. Eventually, time and space faded out, he felt nothing but everything. It felt like he had been sitting on that couch forever and also for just one second. He felt dead inside. When he finally got up and trudged down the hall to bed, it was three in the morning.

He wakes to Gabi crying. “Fuck.” He grunts, as he rolls over to glare at his phone that didn’t go off. Except it did go off. He had slept through it, and it was almost 11am. His head is killing him, and he presses his lower palms into his eyes to try and alleviate the pain. It felt like he had a hangover, but he hadn’t had a drink or used. An emotional hangover.

Frankie hauls himself out of bed and stumbles to Gabi’s room, she is absolutely beside herself calling for him and rattling the railing on her crib. He can tell her diaper is full and she hasn’t had breakfast and now he feels like extra shit because of that.

“God, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry honey…” he scoops her up and pulls her to his chest, cooing and lightly bouncing her to soothe the cries. “Daddy didn’t feel good, I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” She sniffs and nods, wiping away a snot bubble. “Ok so I know you’re starving but you would probably also feel more comfortable after a bath. Does that sound good? Which would you like first?”

Gabi sniffles again. “um…baff.”

Frankie nods and carries her to the bathroom, immediately taking off her soiled clothes and starting to run the bath. While they wait, he softly brushes her hair, using his fingers to gently separate the cute little mats she sometimes gets in her curls.

He bathed her in silence, and he knows Gabi knows something is wrong, as she usually likes to play with her sea animal toys when she is in the bath. Today she is simply swirling the bubbly water with her finger.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what she understood and what she didn’t. When he broke up with Lex she was too young to realize or know any better but now…now she was aware. And she had loved you…

So did he. His chest seizes in a searing pain as he thinks of you, the way your face looked when he said what he said. He hadn’t meant any of it.

It was a new level of heartbreak, because he had known better not to cater to his impulsive stubbornness, the insults and hateful comments that spill out of his mouth when he gets caught, when he feels backed into a corner. He knew better and he couldn't stop himself, his defensive and selfishness overwhelming him. And then you asked him about the farmers he shot. And it hit him.

He was a bad person. There was no denying it. He’d wanted to keep that side of himself away from you, he’d change the topic or just blatantly lie, but he liked the man he was with you, he wanted to prolong the feeling as long as he could before he messed it up. And he messed it up.

It suddenly didn’t matter to him in that moment that you could possibly forgive him. You SHOULDN'T forgive him. His past, his life, his actual shitty personality…you deserved more. You were so young, you could find someone new easily who didn’t have all his problems. So he pushed you away.

And you were fun to fuck, I’ll admit that. Let me do fucking anything…

He whips around and all but flings the toilet seat cover off the entire toilet and promptly vomits.

He is a horrible person…but he knew, deep down, that you would have forgiven him, that you would have stayed. And as the world fell apart and it all came crashing down around him, he knew you shouldn’t. But it still pissed him off that you listened to him, even when he knew this was right. He could not deny he selfishly still also wanted you to come back, to refuse to leave and beg and plead and tell him how much you love him. Everything is so complicated.

He pulls his head up and rests it in the crook of his arm along the rim of the tub. He feels a light poking and looks up to see Gabi.

“Daddy we done?”

He blinks, looking down like he had forgotten where he was and what he was doing. He reached for the loofah to rinse it from soap later. The water was getting cold.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He says nothing and nods, wrapping her up in a blanket and putting on her favorite mermaid scale leggings and a little Fleetwood Mac shirt you’d gotten her so she could match with him.

After settling Gabi with her food, he trudges into the living room, collapsing on the couch and opening his phone.

It barely rings before it’s picked up.

“Hey, Fish…was just ‘bout to text you. You ok?”

“No.”

Will began to speak, but Frankie cut him off. “Look I need you to watch Gabi for a couple days. I’m…off my dad game. Can I bring her over?”

“Yea…sure.”

Frankie could hear the hesitation in Will’s voice.

“I’m not gonna use.”

“I didn’t say you would.”

“Right. Be there in a bit.”

He told them mostly everything. If there was one thing he learned from you, it was that talking about it did make him feel better.

They said nothing at first but listened, offering words of support, because there was nothing to say. Your reaction was completely justified, and you were rightfully upset about being lied to. So was Maidali.

“Yea she won’t talk to me right now either.” Will sighs, and Frankie feels a twang of guilt that he had spent the entire time talking about himself.

His sad eyes make contact with Will’s. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. Hopefully she can get over it. Flower too.”

“She won’t.” They could see this was a struggle for Frankie just from the muscles clenching in his jaw. “I made her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made her break up with me. I—-said some really horrible shit. Shit I didn’t mean. Well, maybe I did at first cause I was mad but also…she doesn’t deserve this.”

“Deserve what?” Said Benny.

“Me, this, everything!” He throws his arms up gesturing to himself and around him before they thump back down on the couch cushions. “I wish I did deserve her but I don’t, and she has so much life ahead of her! I don’t want to tie her down to an old, fucked up, lying murderer, ok.”

“So…you White Fanged her?”

“….I don’t fucking know what that means, Benny.”

“Like, you loved her and knew she needed to be out there in the wild, it’s where she belongs, so you threw stones and shit at her to make her hate you and leave?”

Frankie blinks. “…yea.”

“But you still love her? You still want her, yea?”!

“Yes, but—“

“Well text her! Call her! Do something!”

Frankie hangs his head. “I already did. Cause I’m fucking weak. But it didn’t deliver. She blocked me. It’s what I deserve. It’s over.”

Before either of them could speak he stood up, indicating the discussion was over.

“Listen, just…watch Gabi for a couple days for me so I can feel like fucking shit and get over it and not have to listen to Lex’s fucking nagging if I ask her to take Gabi early.”

Will and Benny nod, each giving him a long hug before he said goodbye to Gabi and trudged right out the door.

And immediately texted his dealer.

He knew he shouldn’t. This wasn’t like his argument with you. He knew damn well he shouldn’t do this, that it would ruin his life probably. The difference is he just didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t deserve sobriety. He didn’t deserve good things. And he was tired of feeling the excruciating pain of heartbreak and abandonment that he had never wanted to feel again. The sharp twisting and turning in his chest coupled with nausea and dread. He felt you in every fucking heartbeat. He felt like he was dying.

He didn’t want to feel it this time.

He sighs, finished with chopping the chunky white powdered clumps up with his credit card, grabs a dollar bill from a his wallet, rolls it up, puts one end to the line of cocaine and the other his nostril, looks up—

And sees pictures of him and Gabi. At the zoo, washing his truck together with hose water splashing everywhere. A photo you took of Frankie and Gabi sleeping spooned together on the couch.

All new memories. All memories he got within the past 6 months. Memories he never would have gotten if he was still using.

No. He did still deserve that. Despite everything, he deserved to have Gabi in his life, and deserved to have a life sober. It was fucking poison, not just for his body but his soul and his life and his sense of self and even if it hurt, even if…

Even if you never come back to him. Because you told him he needs to fix himself for himself.

What you meant to him…what he had with you before he fucked it up, it meant everything to him. It wasn’t right to just get completely blitzed out to get through the pain. He needed to feel the pain. You deserved that, at least.

Before he can think about it he scoops the powder into his palm and runs to the toilet, throws the powder and the rest of the dime bag in, and flushes. Then he heads straight to bed.

He stayed in bed for days. Yea, he got up to eat, use the bathroom, answer “are you alive” texts, eat some crap junk food. But immediately after he would collapse back into bed.

He jacked off thinking of you constantly and hated himself for it. Your smile, the way you whimper his name as you came on his cock, he’d scroll through your secret nasty WhatsApp chat blowing his load to everything you’d texted to him, the voice notes you’d send him when he was at work of you masterbating and thinking of him…

That last time he’d fucked you when you’d been sleepy on the couch only in one of his old giant tshirts, how he’d pulled your panties to the side to look at you, so perfect and flushed. He’d placed a pretty kiss against your pussy and crawled over you, pulling his boxers down and pushed himself into you, groaning with a smile as your eyes fluttered open with a gasp. He’d slowly rocked into you as you whimpered in his ear, “Frankie Frankie Frankie Frankie I love you I love you I love you…” He had kissed you as you came because he loved hearing your moans vibrate against his lips.

That one time you joked about getting pregnant while he was fucking you and he had cum so fast he didn’t even know what happened.

Your pretty eyes looking up at him as you sucked him off, taking him deep and letting him cum where he wanted.

Your laughter.

Your smell. The sheets on your side of the bed still smelled like you, and after he orgasmed to you, he’d fall asleep clutching the pillow you used, burrowing his head into it as far as he could to remember your smell, pretending it was really you. Your smell was fading. It scared him.

He started not caring about meals when he learned you'd apparently blocked all his friends, even Benny.

It’s really over.

He slept for days. Because at least when he was asleep, he was either with you, or not conscious to realize he wasn’t.

You wake up to your entire body vibrating and your head searing with pain. The ground is cold, hard, and smells weird and your skin sticks to its texture. You feel liquid dripping slowly from your scalp and you try to wipe your brow but you can’t, and as you emerge from the foggyness in your head, you discover you have your hands bound and arms pulled behind your back. Your legs were bound too, all the way up to the knee and wow, obviously that’s why your shoulders and neck hurt so much.

You’re further disoriented as whatever transport you are in swerves in a tilt to the right and you slide across the floor and into a pile of boxes against the wall. A corner hits you in the back and you almost gasp out all your air from the force but you had a nasty rag stuffed in your mouth.

“Eh!” A sharp voice from further up in the vehicle calls. “You stop moving or I throw you out the plane!”

The plane. The rumbling was from you being in the fucking air, the texture sticking to your body was the metal framework of the cabin, and you didn’t know where the fuck you were going. You try to slow your breathing so you don’t hyperventilate and panic.

Surely the government watches all the planes flying around, right? They can’t just fly a plane in the airspace without them noticing? Right?!

But the plan is not stopped, not challenged, not asked to land.

You look over the top of the boxes and notice there’s a window, and you struggle to push yourself up against the cartons with your bound hands to stand, and continuing to use those boxes, you shimmy on bound legs to look out the tiny window.

You were flying over the ocean.

No one will be able to find you.

It’s finally too much. So you cry.

237 notes · View notes

littlepadika · 4 years ago

Note

Padika darling! Congratulations on 500 followers! If anyone in this world deserves it, my darling - it is you! I am so proud of you for how far you have some, and am so excited to see you much further you go. You inspire me with your writing everyday, and give me such some frankie feels i can’t even fathom. And the fact that you called me??? your role model??? i love you princess 💜🥺😘

Since you’re adorable and ilysm; Dark!🧡🍰☔️🧚‍♀️🏰 ☁️

Ana r u ready for some praise?!?! You exemplify such classy behavior on the app and you make the fandom a fun place to be. You are so generous with reblog and comments. You send cute asks. Legendary stuff bb 💕💕💕💕 I am walking in your footsteps hermana

Also great choices (dark!pero excuse u). This one wrote itself… YOU GET A WHOLE ASS SEXY SCENE MY DEAR.

500 follower celebration

Warnings: Professor x Student, legal age gap, love potion (dub con), 18+ only, praise kink, innocence kink, deception, stalking dark!pero

Do not read if you do not like dark characters!!!

AN: Magic school kinda like hogwarts, but everyone is legal age.

Pero knew he wanted you after the first day of class. You sat in the front, raising your hand for every question, so smart, but so innocent. A goodie goodie as mean students in class would whisper behind your back. He punished them the most with bad grades.

While most students were afraid of him because he was an ex auror and was littered with scars, you were curious. You stayed behind class to asked him questions and listen to his stories. Pero had no problem giving you preferential treatment because he loved the blush it would produce. Whenever he called your name or asked you to come to the front of the class to explain, you would give him the biggest smile and he would feel his cock harden under his robes. He wanted to tell you what a good girl you were being.

You asked for extra readings to get ahead. As his lust grew he started giving you more and more perverse books to corrupt your mind. Books on dark magic, lust potions, mind control, and breeding potions. If you noticed, you didn't say a word.

He started sneaking into your dormitory to watch you sleep. He liked seeing your smooth skin in the moonlight and your curves free of the baggy school robes. He would go back to his room later and jerk himself until he came, wishing you were with him. The fact student and professor relationships were forbidden only made it more exciting. You were such a good student, he wanted to make you break a rule.

Today's lesson was on love potions. A very tricky potion to make. He usually hated this day because when students would fuck up the side effects were disastrous. The potion was supposed to induce affection but if done wrong it could result in obsession, lust, or even death. However, now that you were in the class Pero felt more excited. He had entertained the idea of slipping you a love potion on many occasions. It would be so easy because you trusted him already. He finally formed a plan to give one to you through the ruse of this assignment.

He paired students up and purposefully left you out. He didn't want to risk some other idiot student poisoning you and he certainly wouldn't sit by and watch you fawn over someone else.

"Are you okay to work alone, hermosa?" His gruff voice sent a thrill down your spine.

"I promise not to poison you, sir." You teased.

Everyone started brewing, turning the burners on and making the room heat up. Every time Pero would walk by your work station and grunt in approval you felt yourself get a little wetter. His approval and small bits of praise were everything to you.

The smell of the potion, supposed to smell like what attracted you, filled your nose. Leather. Tobacco. Brown Sugar. Professor Tovar. You inhaled the scent greedily not even realizing what you were doing. You unbuttoned your shirt a couple of buttons down, rubbing your neck sensually. You were the best student in here but you were becoming distracted by him. Without realizing it you missed a step.

"Wrong. Entirely wrong." You heard Pero scolding a pair of students whose potion made their voices switch rather than produce any affection. "Fucking idiots. Remediation is next week."

Another couple of students were making out loudly behind you. Pero pulled them apart, cursing when he saw the color of their potion.

"You stirred it too much. You made a lust potion." You looked over your shoulder to see him towering over the two students, casting a spell over the potion to trap the smell.

"Professor..." The female student tried to throw her arms around him seductively. You felt yourself glower. You didn't like that one bit. Thankfully, Pero threw her off.

"Both of you get up to the infirmary. Rollands you go with them make sure they get there. The trio stumbled out, the pair already trying to strip the robe off Rollands. Poor guy.

The room was empty now. Pero felt his heart quicken in excitement. He shut the door, turning the lock. He could smell honey suckle and vanilla; your scent.

"How are you doing over here, querida?" He asked.

"F-fine. I think I'm done, professor." You fan yourself, watching him lean over your cauldron and take a long inhale.

"Smells delicious. I'll need to taste it before I give you your grade?" He purred.

"Do you- you need my hair?" You tried to remember what the last steps were. If you were trying to give someone the potion, all you had to do what put a single strand of your hair in.

"Yes." Pero lied. He had something else in mind. He took your cauldron to his desk and with his back to you, he poured it into a glass and put his own hair in. He poured another glass of water for himself. He planned to give you the love potion while he drank water.

"Water, querida?" He turned with both glasses in his hands only to his surprise you were stripping off your shirt and bra. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so hot. Something's wrong..." You looked away in shame, tugging at your skirt now. Your perfect tits made Pero's mouth water and his cock harden.

Pero sniffed your potion again, which had turned a bright red from the clear it was previously. The smell was much stronger. The slight metallic undertone only confirmed it. You had made a lust potion. A quite potent one at that. Just smelling seemed to have affected you. And now Pero felt the effects starting to invade him as well.

"Oh querida..." Pero purred. His mouth curl into a toothy grin. Maybe a part of your mind made the mistake on purpose so he would fuck you. All those dirty books he had given you inspiring your darkest fantasies.

"What's wrong with me... I feel...oh god." You clutched your stomach bending over the desk. Your tits hung down, teasing him. Your hips rocked in the air trying to get some sort of relief. Your core was aching like you had been edging yourself for hours. Your stomach was cramping painfully. "I need to go to the infirmary."

"No querida... I'm afraid they won't be able to help you." Pero lied, liking the change in plans. "But I might."

"Please-please help me!" You begged. Looking at him you imagined sinking your nails into his broad shoulders, bouncing on his cock. God... where were these thoughts coming from.

"Come sit down." Pero faked concern as he helped you into his large arm chair. His rough touch against your arm made you moan. Pero ate up the fearful desperate look in your eye. You were so innocent and pure but your body revealed how much of a dirty girl you really were.

"Mmm...it hurts!" You turned your head into the cushion inhaling more of his scent. "Is there an-an antidote or a spell?"

"No I am afraid not." Another lie. "Let me see, querida. Where does it hurt?"

You spread your legs, pulling the hem of your skirt up to your stomach. "Here! Fuck I'm sorry professor. I'm so-please!"

"Shhh shhh. Let me." Pero ran his finger through your soaking folds, pulsing with blood.

"That-" You felt some of the ache subside, turning into pleasure at his touch. "That felt better. It's better when you touch down there."

Pero's cock twitched at your innocence. Little you didn't even know what to ask for.

"When I touch your pussy?"

You nodded, blushing and not from the potion.

"Like this." He repeated the motion with more force, sliding his finger into you pussy. It was so tight he had to pump it back and forth until you accepted it.

"Yes-oh yes..." You sighed feeling some more of the pressure subside. A new feeling taking its place. "No wait!" You grabbed his wrist when he started withdrawing.

"You want me to keep going?"

"Yes. Please... it feels good." You tried to pull his hand back to your core.

Pero growled deep from his chest, kneeling down now. He latched onto your clit making you squeal, digging your nails into the arms of the chair. He fucked your pussy with two fingers, trying to get you to open up. Your taste was sweeter than he ever imagined.

"Think, querida." He looked up, his lips wet with you. "Use that smart little brain. Where did you go wrong? What is the antidote." he quizzed you like he did in your class. You wracked your lust ridden brain trying to think of what this potion could be. What step did you miss?

"Professor!" You ground yourself against his hand, throwing your head back against the chair. "I know-I know what I did! The antidote- it's your cum. I need your cum inside of me."

"Good girl. I knew you knew the answer." He paused again, watching you squirm under the praise. "But a professor and a student... it's forbidden." Pero pretended to be conflicted even though he was more than willing to pump you full of his seed.

"But-professor Tovar I need it. Please. I won't tell anyone."

"If I fuck you..." He grabbed your face, curing his fingers inside of you. "You'll be mine forever. This will be the beginning, not the end. You understand?"

Your eyes widened at the statement. You were burning up. You needed the antidote or you would die but at what cost? His dark hungry eyes were unlike anything you had ever seen before but it stoked the arousal you felt.

"Please, professor. Please I don't care. I'll do whatever you want!" You feel tears spilling out of your eyes at the pain from the potion.

"I hoped you would say that... my innocent little girl. Well... not so innocent to be begging for my cock."

"Please!" Your voice jumped up due to the pain.

"Call me, Pero."

You breathed harshly as he stripped off his robe then his shirt and pants. He was so broad and thick. His muscles were toned, highlighting scars from battle. And his cock stood proudly between his legs, resisting gravity with its strength. You spread your legs wider in anticipation.

He kissed you then, forcing your mouth to take his tongue, previewing the way he would fuck you by harshly licking and biting your mouth. Before you could even take another breath he thrust into you without mercy. It was hardly any resistance at all. That pain in your gut subsided enough so you could think straight. What had you just agreed to? Did it matter when it felt so good? Pero was grunting above you, holding your thighs apart. You felt a small tinge of pride at the fact you made him feel good. You were always eager to please. Your skin smacked against his and your pussy squelched in a positively sinful symphony of sound. You prayed no one would hear you moaning.

"I'm-oh god-Pero!" You felt something tightening in your stomach. An orgasm? You had read about them but never experienced one. "Wait, professor, I think-" Your hand flew to Pero's hip. But he didn't stop, in fact he sped up. His cock was brushing against your cervix and soon his seed would take root there, the antidote you needed. His head was tilted back, a sick smile on his face as he took you over and over. He was your favorite teacher and now he was teaching you what pleasure was. You erupted in flames and vaguely you were aware of Pero's dark laughter as he watched you cum.

"Feel better?" He smirked down at you.

"Yes... thank you-oh shit..." You felt the harsh pain in your core come back with a vengeance. "It hurts again!" He lifted you off the chair, his cock momentarily falling out of your pussy. "Please-"

Pero lifted you and set you down on his desk, pushing your back down against the papers. He thrust back into you. You felt immediate relief, hugging him towards you with your legs. You needed his cum more than ever. Pero cursed, your walls even wetter after your orgasm. He wasn't going to last long. Not when he had been dreaming about claiming you for months.

"Mine... mine..." You realized what he was growling under his breath. "Oh querida." He grinned at you, his rhythm faltering, "I'm never going to stop fucking you. Even when you sleep- you're gonna dream of me fucking you."

"P-Pero! Oh god!" Your toes tightened. You knew it was true. The feeling of his thick cock in you would not be forgotten.

"Are you ready? Are you ready to be mine?" He leaned over you, squeezing your tits in his hand.

"Yes!" You nodded feeling the potion continuing to make your pussy ache and burn.

"Such a good little girl. All mine." He brought a hand down to your clit making you cum with him. "Mine!" He growled feeling cum shoot out of his flared head. He pulled his hips flush with you, feeling each pump cement his ownership of you. He had finally gotten everything he ever wanted. There would be no going back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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