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famousstatesmanbearroad · 5 months

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SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY PART 3 (CODY RHODES WWE)

• Summary: You made many enemies throughout your career in World Wrestling Entertainment. Some of which you despise so much it makes you sick to your stomach. But the more you two hate each other, the more the sexual tension becomes too intense to ignore.

• Parings: Cody Rhodes X Fem Reader

Warning- Language, 18+ only (minors DNI), Dirty Talk, Smut, Pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex, dom!Cody dom!Y/N, smutter than the last two part. (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Word count: 5.2k

Your eyes landed on a particular person sitting next to Becky, causing you to smirk of accomplishment.

Sami. He's been avoiding you for a couple of days only because you told him when he saw him you were going to kill him for giving Cody your number. And he thought that maybe if he could avoid it for a whole week till the next show, you'll give over it. But that was him letting his hopes get the best of him.

He knew you held grudges, and deep down, a part of him knew you wouldn't let what he did slide.

You slowly walked up to Sami, who was laughing at whatever Becky said. Becky's eyes landed on you but quickly looked away when she saw you bringing your finger to your lips, telling her to remain quiet.

Sami's face then went from a smile with a bit of laughter to straight fear as he felt a hand on his shoulders, followed by your voice.

"Hey Sami," You spoke; Sami stared at Becky, who butted herself out by taking a step back. He then let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," He said. "Oh, look, time to get ready for my match, gotta go."

"No, no, no!" You pull Sami right back as he tries to pull you back. You then had your finger directly pointed at his face. "Were you thinking about your life, Sami, when you gave Cody my number!?"

Becky immediately butted herself back into the situation with a smile on her face. "Way to go, Sami!" She applauded, causing you to glare at her.

"No! He shouldn't have done that!" You shook your head, looking from Becky to Sami.

Sami raised his hands in defense. "He told me he wanted to apologize for the rumor he spread; I thought he was being nice!"

"It's Cody; when is he ever nice to me!?" You scoffed.

"He's been more than nice to you," Becky muttered, causing you to again glare at her. All she did was stand there, smiling at you.

There are apparent differences between Sami and Becky; Sami was afraid of you, and Becky was not.

But what Becky said made Sami look between you and her—finally, pushing his cluelessness aside and catching on to something he hadn't seen before.

"Wait, did I miss something?" He asked. You looked at Becky, who looked at you. You then sighed and looked at Sami, explaining to him everything from the night he called you about the rumor, then said to Sami and now Becky the night Sami gave Cody your number. You questioned at the moment if you should kill them. They knew too much.

Sami stood in shock, digesting the information you gave him, while Becky shook her head, scoffing.

"I didn't see then, but I now see it," She said, smiling at you. "That man is in love with you!"

"What!?" You said in disbelief before laughing, thinking she was joking.

But she wasn't.

"Yeah, Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but I think he broke Cody, and he probably did too; otherwise, it would just have been a one-time thing," Sami said, agreeing with Becky.

However, Becky shook her head at Sami. "Well, I don't think He broke her; she is still talking to Damian,"

You were momentarily hesitant before that "Well.." slipped out your mouth. Sami and Becky turned back to you. "I ended things with Damian the next after Cody was in my room. I don't know, hearing that morning him telling me how much he liked me, I didn't feel the same and didn't want to lead the man on,"

"So what about Cody?" Sami asked. "From the time you gave Damian a chance, I honestly thought you would end up having feelings for him, but it's like Cody stopped you from doing that."

You remained silent, hearing what Sami said. Since last week, you and Cody got into that argument. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and it was worse than usual.

You end up staring at his number from time to time. It is saved as an unknown number as if you were going to call him. It wasn't hard avoiding him because you haven't seen him since that night. His words replayed in your head multiple times, and it was so bad you felt your dignity start to lack late at night, in bed, letting your pleasure out while thinking about the man you truly despise. And never have you done anything like that, let alone while thinking about a man.

And as much as you hate to admit it, everything Cody argued to you made him right.

He was right, which holds you back from even talking to him. You could see that smile of his while telling him he was right; that's not something you want happening.

"There's nothing with Cody. I haven't spoken to him, and I like to keep it that way," You said. "This whole situation is dead, so can we please not talk about it anymore?"

You notice Becky glancing over at Sami, who gives her a shrug as they both agree to stop talking about it. Neither one of them wanted to push your buttons.

"You're going to McMahon's party tomorrow night?" Becky asked.

McMahon's party. It is a party that now Stephanie McMahon and her husband, the COO of the company, host every year as a way of celebrating us Wrestlers and our achievements. This year, they're celebrating at the hotel where all the wrestlers stayed for the next few days. You find it complete bullshit, especially when some of the Wrestlers don't get enough attention on TV, let alone this company.

But you still go, only because of the respect you earned from Stephanie herself, despite her no longer working in WWE. But the minute you do go, you wind up leaving five minutes later.

"Yeah, we don't have a choice, though," You spoke. "Adam keeps telling me I must be there and can't leave like last time." Sami sighed. "I have to drag Kevin down tomorrow; Adam told him the same." He said. "You know how stubborn he gets."

"Don't let him hear you say that," You told him as you and Becky chuckled a bit.

Sami was going to speak, responding to your comment, you assumed. When loud yells from a distance caused you three to look in the direction where it was coming from.

Your heart immediately dropped, seeing Damian and Cody in each other faces as yell at one another. Sami takes off, pushing Cody back, while Finn appears out of nowhere with Rhea, pulling Damian back.

"Say one more word about her, and I'll fucking kill you!" The venom in Cody's voice caught your attention. You've seen him angry; hell, you made him angry multiple times. But never in your years of knowing him have you seen him this angry.

Damian, however, laughed at Cody. "Honestly, Cody, I hope two end up together," He said. "You two deserve each other!"

"Come on, Priest, let's go," Rhea smirked as her eyes landed on you. Damian glanced at Cody again before he, Finn, and Rhea walked away in your direction.

You looked at Damian, who didn't even look in your direction. Though, you knew he knew you were watching him. But you were suddenly caught off by Rhea, pushing past you, almost knocking you down.

You laughed as you grabbed Rhea and turned around as you got in her face. The yelling was now coming from you two.

"Is there a problem, Rhea!? Because if there is, I'm more than glad to handle the problem!"

"You know exactly what the problem is!" Rhea spoke. "I warned Damian about you, and guess what? I was right! So stay away from him!"

"Whatever he told you was probably lies!" You spoke before looking up at Damian and then back at her. "He and I are on good terms, so I don't understand where this all coming from!"

Rhea laughed at you before shaking her head. "Not Damian, sweetheart," She said. "Asked Cody over there!"

Rhea then walked off. Damian looked at you, then Cody, who you assume was still there, before walking off alongside Finn.

You turned around and saw Cody standing there. He looked at you. You haven't seen him in weeks, and despite knowing you may and may be angry by the question you would ask him.

Your mind began wandering off. He was shirtless, in his gear. He looked highly sexy when he was mad.

"What was that all about?" You asked him, confused. Cody looked at you. "What do you think, Y/N?"

He told Damian everything. And Damian probably said something that caused him to react aggressively. But you were confused again.

Why did he get so offensive and protective over you? You had people in the past called every name in the book; even Cody himself has called you names. But for him to get this angry over someone calling you a name that you don't know what it was surprised you.

Cody held his hand up, telling Sami he was okay as Sami let him go. Cody looked over at you once more before walking off.

Sami and Becky looked at you, confused about what the hell even happened. Sami spoke and sighed. "The situation is dead, huh?"

———

The more time went by, the less you were looking forward to the party. It was already the next day, and the party had already started. You looked at yourself in the mirror as your hair and makeup were set, as well as your dress, as it fits perfectly on top of your body.

It wasn't short; it laid just about your knee. It had a split from the side of the dress to show enough skin. Your breasts were shaped perfectly against the top part, and your hair and makeup were perfect to how you wanted it.

But it didn't make you want to go even more. However, after minutes of debating, you finally took your purse and went down to the party.

Upon arrival, you notice the amount of people already there, which makes you want to turn around and head back to your room.

"Drink?" A male walked up to you, holding a tray of drinks. You smiled at the male and took a drink, then another.

You knew it was going to be a long night.

"Y/N?" Becky called out as she approached you. She sees the two glasses in your hand and can't help but shake her head.

"Don't lose me, Y/N," she said.

"Well, if I don't have a drink or two, you will lose me." You said as you took a sip of your drink.

Your eyes wander around, seeing familiar faces. Some you are friends with, others you aren't. And most that you genuinely hate.

The last time you were at this party, you didn't even last 10 minutes and made the excuse that you were sick.

However, Adam Pearce was telling everyone how it's mandatory to stay the entire night. Everyone enjoyed the party, except you.

Becky wonders off, leaving you alone again as she joins her husband's side. You gulped down your first drink as you went for the second one in your hand, placing the first glass on an empty tray and finding another server, taking another drink.

Two drinks went from four to six. You sat down, drank your drinking, and ate a cup of fruit they had also at the party? You ran into a few people along the way of your drinking: Sami, Kevin, Adam, who had to remind her that she needed to stay, even The Judgement Day, whom Rhea and Damian glared at you.

You were still confused about what exactly happened last night other than the fact that Cody told Damian everything. You didn't know how much he told Damian, but you knew Damian said a comment about you that caused Cody to get riled up.

Cody. You haven't seen him at all tonight. You wanted to see him, though deep down, you wouldn't admit that to yourself.

But you and Cody had a lot to talk about. And you were tired of waiting for the right time or nothing.

And you weren't sure if it was the alcohol getting into your system, but you pulled yourself off your seat, finding anyone who might know Cody's whereabouts.

You stumbled upon Jey, Sami, and Kevin conversing about something, causing them waves of laughter.

"Have any of you seen Cody?" You whispered to them. You didn't want to make it evident that you were looking for him.

Kevin shook his head. "Not since leaving our rooms; why?"

You quickly shook your head. "No reason,"

"Y/N, are you drunk?" Sami asked, looking at you. You were going to deny it at first by shaking your head. But the laugh got to you, making you cover your mouth to stop yourself.

"A little," you admit. "You three enjoy the party." You quickly walked off and went onto Seth and Becky, who had said the same thing that they hadn't seen Cody.

"Don't you have his number? Try calling him," Becky reminds you. Seth was taken aback. "Number, since when have you and Cody been friends?"

"Friends!? No! Never!" You deny offensively. Becky, however, gave you a look along with a smirk, causing you to glare at her. "Shh!" You tell her, then walk off. "Did I miss something," You heard Seth asked his wife.

You looked around the party, seeing no sight of Cody, which made you consider taking Becky's idea of calling him.

"But what if he doesn't answer?" You thought to yourself. You pulled your phone, scrolling to his unsaved number as you debated whether or not you should call him. After minutes of discussing, your finger pressed the call button as you placed the phone on your ear, hearing it ring.

"He's not going to answer you," You thought once again. "You desperate, Y/N, the man still hates you. There's no way-"

"Hello?"

You stood silent for a moment, panicking on the inside as you realized he had answered.

"Y/N?" Cody asked, checking if you were there.

"Hi," you quickly responded, letting me know you were there. "I accidentally called you; my bad,"

"Really?" He asked. Even though you were drunk right now, you could still tell that his smile appeared on his face. "Because I swore I just saw you pull your phone out and call me," So he is here

Your eyes wander around, trying to look for Cody. "On your left, Princess,"

You turned to your left, seeing a figure from afar looking in your direction. Cody sat down, staring at you while you were still on the phone.

"Has anyone told me how sexy you look in that dress," Cody spoke. "If we weren't at this party, I would absolutely ruin you in that dress."

"I thought you were mad at me," You spoke, ignoring the response you received in between your thighs as he said. Cody smirked at you.

"I could say the same thing to you," Cody said. "Is there a reason why you called me princess?"

You bit your lips while looking at him. You then scanned around the room. There is no sign of Adam or anyone you could run into.

"Second floor, room D." You spoke before hanging up. You glanced at Cody again before walking towards the elevator and sneaking out of the party. You thought you should have done that sooner if you knew it would be easy.

The elevator opens again as you walk to your room and open the door, leaving it open for Cody to come in.

You took off your heels, tossing them to the side as you sat in front of your mirror, taking off any jewelry you had on.

Your eyes landed on the door through your mirror once you noticed it opened, seeing Cody standing in front of your door as he shut it shut.

You turned around and looked at him as you bit your lips.

"Hi," you spoke, looking at him. You couldn't help but think how handsome he was looking. You have been thinking about that a lot lately.

He wore a typical suit, which he wore usually. However, it only made sense that he wore it since others also wore suits.

But you notice the hesitation in him as he eyes you. "Are you drunk?" He asked you. You brought your fingers up, holding them close together, indicating that you were a little drunk.

"I can handle my liquor, Cody. I'll be fine if that's what you're worried about." You said. Cody shook his head. "That's the least of my worries right now." He said and took a step towards you.

You two weren't close. But to you, you felt extremely close to one another. The height difference made you feel small compared to him.

"Why did you call me up here?" He asked curiously. You looked at him. "I wanted to talk about last night."

Cody sucked his teeth as you reminded him about last night's events. "I want to know what Damian said that made you so angry,"

Cody shook his head. "It was nothing." He lied. You rolled your eyes.

"Stop lying!" You said. Cody, from just that, was getting even more mad. You couldn't help but wonder where the sudden anger was coming from. You knew it wasn't just from mentioning his and Damian's fight.

"He said the most out-of-pocket thing about you, princess, that I don't even want to repeat," He admitted. You couldn't help but laugh a little after a moment of silence. "Where did this you getting defensive about me come from? You hate me, remember,"

Cody stepped forward, causing you to part your lips a bit accidentally. Cody noticed it as he licked his lips. The sexual tension was already forming.

"What about you, huh?" Cody asked. "Why did I find out from him that you were the one who ended things with him the day after I was in your room?"

You were silent as you remembered why it took you so long to talk to him. Telling him the truth meant telling him he was right.

And you'd rather die than tell him he's right.

"I didn't feel anything for him," You simply told him.

"And why's that?" Cody's voice went low as he looked down at you. You felt his hands on the skin of your thighs, brushing upwards, causing you to feel goosebumps on you.

"I'm not going to say it, Cody," You tell him. You already felt yourself getting turned on by how close you two are. But you also felt frustrated because of how easily he knew that he was right.

"Say it, princess," he said. "Say I'm right."

"No!" You argued. You gasped when you felt Cody's hand around your neck, pulling you closer.

"Say it," he demanded it. Your mouth was open, allowing Cody to be ready for you to say those two words he was desperate to hear.

"Never," you said, followed by a smirk.

Something in you sparked up by Cody's actions, causing you to push him onto the couch that sat in your hotel room. This took Cody back as he looked at you.

His eyes watched you straddled his lap, feeling how warm you were in between your thighs.

"I hate you, Cody," you spoke. "Nothing will change that, and nothing will make me say those words." You whispered to him.

Cody growled, grabbing the side of your cheeks and kissing you.

You missed everything about him. His touch, his kiss, the way he made you feel. You couldn't help but grind your hips against him as the two of you made out with each other.

"I miss those pretty noises of yours, baby, thought all this week," Cody spoke as you couldn't help but whimper at the pleasure you were feeling grinding against him. Cody watched you, hands on your waist, as you made the most pretty face and precious moans and whimpers out of your mouth.

And you noticed this: Cody sitting there, with his hands on your waist. You took one of his hands and brought it up to your breast, biting your lips as his eye landed straight at them, playing with them.

"So fucking gorgeous," He said, groaning a bit. You can feel his member joint a bit, causing you to moan. You pulled back a bit, pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants and unbuckling pants before pulling it down, showing his boxers. You noticed him pulling off his shoes before kicking his pants off. He was eager to feel more of you.

You straddled him once more, letting out a loud moan, feeling the layers now thin between you two.

"Oh my god, Cody," you moaned, tugging his hair. Cody's breathing was unsteady as the two of them started panting. You couldn't help but smirk, however, thinking about something.

"What are you smirking for?" Cody asked. You debated telling Cody; however, you knew it would turn you on.

"I have a confession to make," you said. Cody chuckled, "You finally gonna admit I was right?"

"No!" You spoke. You then brought your lips to his ears, saying something that just might have driven Cody insane. "I had touched myself thinking about you."

"Fuck, Y/N," Cody cursed under his breath. You looked at him as he struggled underneath you. "I couldn't help myself; I moaned your name and everything."

"Y/N, shut up," Cody said, groaning. You laughed and kissed all over his neck, grinding a little harder on top of him. You two were moaning a mess.

Cody lifts your dress, letting his hands trail up your dress. You wore a lace underneath that hardly covered anything. "Look at that pretty pussy."

You moaned, throwing your head back as you felt yourself approaching your second organism.

"Let me see you touch yourself for me, princess," Cody spoke. You moaned, doing precisely what he said by bringing your hands down to your clit, rubbing it in circles while grinding on him.

Cody watched in awe, as you were an absolute mess watching you. He didn't think you could get this beautiful.

"Cody, baby," You spoke. "I'm close."

As your orgasm appeared, it quickly went away, Cody pulling your hand away from yourself and stopping you from grinding by holding you in place.

He looks up at you and shakes his head. "You will not finish till you tell me I'm right." He said, causing you to suck your teeth.

"I'm not saying that," You tell him. Cody looks at you and lays back, smirking. You looked at him as he smiled even more at you. What alarmed you was the hint of devilish in it. "What?" You asked.

Cody doesn't say anything at first as he leans in and kisses you, and you immediately kiss him back. He pulls back and looks up at you.

"Sit on my face," he speaks, licking his lips.

Your eyes went wide. Never in your entire lifetime have you done that. It brought a little fear in you.

"Cody-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Cody's eyes went dark as he spoke. He was dead serious.

Before you could even say anything, Cody had already lifted you off the couch and onto the bed. He takes pulls off your dress, not enough to rip it, and takes your panties off before he takes off his jacket, pulls his tie off, and unbuttons his shit till he was shirtless in nothing but his boxers and lays on the bed.

"Come on, princess, sit on my face," Cody demands. You hesitate for a moment before getting on top of Cody, hovering over his face as you slightly lower yourself.

Cody grew frustrated and immediately wrapped his arms around your thighs, pushing you down on his face until you were fully sat on him.

Despite the fact you're thinking that you're probably crushing Cody, you moaned at the feeling of Cody's touching tasting your clit. "Fuck" You let out.

It felt different. You never had someone make you straddle their face to eat you out. And as you looked down at Cody, you noticed him eyeing you, your Body. Just seeing you like this turned Cody.

And you were tired; you really tried not to buck your hips as you gripped the headboard of the bed. But the way his tongue lapped on your clit, tasting every inch of you, you accidentally buckled, causing your eyes to widen a bit.

"Sorry," You apologized, looking down at Cody. His eyes said otherwise; he wanted you to do that again. And it didn't take long for him to have you buckling your hips again, followed by a long moan.

You knew Cody was enjoying this, which made you care less about being scared in the first place. Your hands reached from behind as your hand slipped into his boxers, pulling out his cock and stroking it.

You buckled again, feeling Cody moan against your clit. "Yes, Cody, don't stop!" You moaned. At this point, you didn't care who could hear you. You swore you were a lot louder than the last time you two had sex.

Both hands were now on the headboard as you felt your orgasm. Your head threw back as it approached within seconds.

But you didn't cum.

Cody immediately grabbed your waist, pulled you up, and held you in place as you were still hovering over him. You let out a needy whine.

"Say I'm right!" Cody demanded. You use every strength to hold your ground as you look down at him.

"I said no!" You yelled.

In just a blink of an eye, Cody now had you lying on the bed. A part of you knew if he kept doing that, pulling away every time you were about to cum, you were going have to want to.

However, you were still stubborn. That was until he immediately attached his tongue to your pussy, his head vigorously shaking in between your legs as he led you back into your orgasm.

Your hand found his head, tugging it down as your moan grew louder before. Cody was way strong, however, and pulled back, causing you to whine once more.

"Fuck!" You scream. "Okay, you're right! Please, Cody!"

You felt that stupid smile on his back on his lips as he went back on your clit. Your legs shook as you clenched on your bedsheets, letting a cry of moans and enjoying the orgasm that you had been craving for what seemed like forever.

You lay there as Cody's head appeared from between your legs, panting as he looked down at you.

"That was fucking hot," he said, then hovering over you. "You're so fucking hot, so beautiful."

Cody kisses you. You can taste yourself on his tongue as the two of you fought with each other. However, you let him win. You were too deep in that aura stage, just by Cody simply giving oral sex, that you were weak to do anything.

But suddenly, you let out a gasp as you felt Cody's dick touch your clit. He watches you as he rubs himself against you.

"Cody," you whine. "I don't think I can handle more."

Cody shook his head, however, and kissed all over you. "Baby, yes, you can," he cooed. "I know you handle my dick, be a good girl to daddy."

You moaned at Cody's voice as he grinds himself against you for pleasure. You needed him inside of you; you desperately needed him. But it was more of the joy than anything you were worried about. You weren't sure if you could handle so much pleasure.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Cody said. "I know want this dick. I can feel you clenching, and I'm not inside you."

Your hands fell on his massive arms, feeling every muscle as he whimpered. "Fuck me, Cody,"

"Mmm, so sexy," Cody muttered to himself as he adjusted the length of his cock, lining it up against your clit and slowly inserting himself in you. "Fuck," he breathes out as he closes his eyes.

He forgot how good you felt, and every single bone in his body was holding back from fucking you so hard on this bed. But he wants you to feel him, take his dick as much as possible, cum as much as you need to.

He wanted to take care of you.

Cody, slowly but surely, rolled his hips, making sure he was fully pulled out till you only felt the tip, then sank back in. You moan, hands above your head as the two watch each other. It was like heaven, what he felt. Seeing you laying there as he allows his cock to enjoy you.

"That's it, princess." He whispered in your ears, patiently waiting to give you to go faster. "Take my cock, baby. You're doing so well, baby girl."

"Keep going," your breath heavily. "Keep talking; go faster, please."

Cody groans a little, speeding up the pace. "You're so wonderful, baby, taking my dick." He said. "No one has ever fucked you this good before, have they."

You shook your head, whimpers and moans talking over your mouth.

"Be a good girl and use your words," Cody demanded. You started to realize you had a kink for that.

"No," You moaned out. "No one- fuck- no one has fucked me this good."

Your hips started to move again his dick, causing him to hold down your hips and deepen his length into you. "That's it, baby- I can feel you." He moans. "You're gonna cum are you."

Cody was now at a pace where he was fucking you harder, faster, and you two were moaning uncontrollably. One of his hands was on your neck, choking you.

"Oh, Daddy, don't stop." You moaned. Cody growls. "Fuck, you going to make me come! Oh fuck!"

You reach your climax, having yet another orgasm. Your moans grew louder as Cody pushed himself deep, letting out his cum as his head fell in between your neck.

The two now lay in bed as you processed what happened. Cody smiled as he clenched his hands, thinking about the fantastic sex they just had and trying his hardest not to get riled up again. "This was a lot better than last time." He spoke.

You nodded, agreeing with Cody as you bit your lips, holding back a smile. Cody looked at you, grabbing your chin and making you turn to him.

"No more bullshit," He said. "I don't care how much you hate me. You're mine, got it?"

Something in felt butterflies in your stomach, which made you absolutely sick to your stomach. He's right; you do still hate him, which is why you hated the way he was giving you these butterflies in your stomach. But there's no way you can back yourself out or avoid him after this night. You slowly nodded, agreeing to Cody as if you were making a deal with the devil.

"Got it."

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brataura · 14 days

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warnings ⊹₊ black female reader, nine hundred seventy one words, lowercase intended, female masterbation, male masterbation, solo play, dirty talk, cam!girl, sex toys, fellatio, webcam. minors dont interact. 𐙚𐙚

𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆! 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒.

𝗆𝗋.𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾.

𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 ,𝖽𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗍, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.

“𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗓𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿.

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 ,𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗇. 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺.

𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗆 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗒.

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾. 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗒𝗌. 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗑𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿𝗅𝗒.

“𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖺𝗀𝖾.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾’𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗌𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗍, 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. “𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖨 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈.

𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ��𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾. 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗇𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗅.

“𝗐𝗈𝗐.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿, “𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖨’𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖿𝗎𝗅. 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇.

𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾. 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 ,𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄.

“𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗌. 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌.

𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗓𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗏𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗏𝗂𝖺 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗉𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋.

“𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗆.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍.

𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 ,𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝖼 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽.

𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋.

“𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝖺𝗉𝖺.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾. 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍.

𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗑.

“𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 ,𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗂𝗇𝖺𝖽𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇��𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆.

𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖼𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗌𝗀𝖾! 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾.

𝗂𝖿 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇.

taggies @harmshake

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whydontyousaeso · 7 months

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Slutting out for Cody again might right a smut fic again whoops

#wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #fanfic #smut #cody rhodes #wwe cody rhodes #the american nightmare

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 months

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The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill.

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting.

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives.

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells.

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way.

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t.

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.”

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this.

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand.

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin.

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot.

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl.

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend.

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.”

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him.

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort.

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment.

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity.

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair.

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world.

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.”

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced.

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head.

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something.

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one.

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan.

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him.

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve.

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience.

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date.

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too.

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory.

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel.

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up.

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date.

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest.

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation.

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question.

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes.

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious.

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up.

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!”

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever.

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.”

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him.

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date.

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to.

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting.

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius.

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home.

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n.

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into.

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space.

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment.

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble.

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks.

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch.

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle.

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet.

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat.

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,”

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it.

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him.

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it.

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve.

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing.

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway.

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat.

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood.

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.”

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed.

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon.

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you.

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never.

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share.

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home.

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly.

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.”

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view.

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again.

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date.

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’.

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago.

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it.

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend.

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection.

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section.

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic.

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides.

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you.

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos.

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure.

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass.

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears.

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic.

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches.

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else.

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake.

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh.

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did.

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom.

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless.

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you.

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm.

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.”

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice.

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention.

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully.

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable.

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down.

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means.

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid.

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else.

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak.

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt.

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink.

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place.

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise.

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide.

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same.

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question.

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time.

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts.

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him.

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board.

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts.

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways.

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been.

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder.

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since.

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say.

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking.

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you.

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago.

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be.

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you.

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire.

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink.

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions.

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss.

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time.

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear.

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink.

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole.

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win.

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in.

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck.

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot.

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand.

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up.

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough.

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering.

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again.

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin.

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this.

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together.

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs.

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea.

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this.

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next.

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van.

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes.

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap.

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh.

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret.

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass.

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him.

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door.

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right.

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding.

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level.

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting.

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times.

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach.

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him.

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips.

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon.

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you.

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft.

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not.

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants.

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.”

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat.

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it.

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him.

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips.

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment.

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls.

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss.

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself.

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.”

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides.

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room.

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end.

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply.

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is.

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck.

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets.

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs.

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going.

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets.

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch.

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips.

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees.

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you.

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most.

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder.

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch.

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt.

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls.

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair.

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter.

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other.

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head .

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core.

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit.

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face.

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants.

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate.

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds.

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right.

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked.

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.”

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched.

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you.

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his.

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole.

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes.

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him.

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face.

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back.

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set.

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck.

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine.

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain.

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach.

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.”

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line.

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you.

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent.

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment.

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again.

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper.

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose.

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means.

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him.

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up.

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up.

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you.

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you.

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle.

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal.

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call.

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response.

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring.

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door.

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say.

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did.

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say.

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson.

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you.

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart.

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you.

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties.

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom.

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.”

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy.

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up.

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin?

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

#eddie munson smut #smut #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things smut #eddie munson fem!reader

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ldysmfrst · 4 months

Text

American Mate - (3)

Following Instincts

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 3970

Work count for Story: 12111

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, and Cultural differences.

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Outside the break room, Yoongi is in Alpha space, catching your scent of sweet peas as it changes into a moldy pea soup smell after the comment from the redheaded playmate. Turning with a low and threatening growl, Yoongi’s eyes have gone to his hybrid's bright golden-yellow cat eyes as he blocks you from their sight. Zeroing in on the playmates, tail raised and puffed out, tip twitching back and forth with a snap of irritation, making them all step back and quiet down. Hearing you murmur something in his native tongue and then the frantic footsteps, Yoongi snaps his head to watch your fleeing form disappear into a room down the hall. Taking a quick look back at the playmates, office staff, and then his pack, Yoongi huffs and quickly follows you, unable to fight his Alpha instincts.

The rest of the BTS packmates follow their bonded one closely behind as they feel his need to protect you from the others in the office. Namjoon catches Yoongi by the shoulder, stopping him from attempting to enter the room where you sought refuge. The rest of the pack forms a barricade around their Prime Alpha and packmate, who has entered Alpha space. They all are standing on guard, facing the rest of the people in the office, watching closely for any danger, and keeping the rude humans away.

“Yoongi, you need to give her space. Remember, she is human and might get scared of your Alpha. What is happening? I need you to get enough control to explain what is happening?” Namjoon calmly speaks to his older packmate. Pushing out calming scents, trying to bring him out of his Alpha space with soothing strokes along his shoulder and back. “Can you come back and explain why you are protecting Miss Y/n?”

Barreling into the front of the group of observers with his tail bushed out and scent-smelling concerned, Derek comes up to the defensive line of BTS, “You have to let me get to her. You have to let me help calm down Y/n. Can’t you scent her distress? She is not doing okay by herself. You can even smell her over the scent-blockers! I am the closest thing she has to a family. Please let me in to make sure she is okay. Please.”

One of Yoongi’s black jaguar ears twitch back, hearing the urgency in Derek’s voice. He looks at Namjoon, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he turns to Derek with normal dark eyes, taking in his shifty behaviors and now partly distressed scent.

Shaking his head slowly to Namjoon, Yoongi steps between his packmates and face-to-face Derek. “You are the closest thing to her family?”

“Yes, She and I were hired together when they decided to start this branch. We work together and spend time together at my den or her apartment. I do my best to protect her from situations like this because of her past. I normally try to keep her away from the playmates in general so things like this do not happen."

"She is only here today because we could not convince her otherwise since in the meeting yesterday with your Manager and what was said on the phone. She was bullied a lot before, and while it is not something that is okay, unfortunately, it still happens to this day. I really tried but I couldn’t do anything to keep her away. She had to be here even with little to no sleep and nightmares."

Bowing slightly but keeping an eye on the pack, Derek demandingly pleads, "Now, please, Mr. Min, please let me pass. Everyone can smell that something has happened. I think she is hurt in more ways than one.”

The last comment got the attention of the whole pack on him, and everyone looked concerned. Several eyes flashed as their hybrid halves showed their displeasure with the news. Yoongi continued to fight his Alpha instincts with a deep growl and even breaths.

“How can you tell?” Namjoon asks from next to the door. He can smell something, but it tells him nothing since he has never smelt Y/n.

“That moldy smell. Like veggies gone bad?” The hybrids start sniffing, searching for the smell, and scrunching their noses once it hits. “That is why I know something is not right. Y/n, her scent turns like that when she is hurt. I am not sure if it is just emotional but it could be physical too. I can’t tell how bad it is because the scent-blocking measures she took for your arrival are still dulling it down. Now again. Let me in to help my friend. I may be a Beta but she is like a pack member to me and I protect her like it.”

“Fine, but I am going in with you. I was the one who knocked into her and failed to keep her from falling. My Alpha instincts have gone haywire and I have the need to protect her,” his eyes glaring back at the playmates, “ from certain people here while ensuring she is okay and make amends for my mistake.” Yoongi states without room for argument, moving to the side, nodding to his packmates to make room for them. Once the two are through, the pack retakes their defensive stance, keeping everyone else out.

Knocking on the door, Derek calls out softly as he opens it, entering and looking around the room to spot your shaking frame in the farthest and darkest corner. Namjoon shuts the door for privacy and protection while he stands guard just outside, with one ear listening to what is happening inside the room and one ear on the rest of the office. His mind racing from the powerful wave of rotten scent that has built up in the room.

The scent is much more robust in this room. The scent-blocking measures no longer mask your distress and pain. This causes Derek and Yoongi to whine at the smell and quickly move to your side. Derek pulled you into a tight embrace, pushing his scent out and over you and scenting the top of your head while murmuring soft, reassuring words. Yoongi comforts you with his own calming scents, pushing down the desire to pry you out of Derek’s hold to take you into his own. Much to their relief, your tears slow, and your breathing calms after what feels like hours.

“Derek, my nightmares, they came true. I ruined everything. I should have stayed away. I should have been looking where I was going. Reina was right. The one with the black tail, did I hurt him? He... He tried catching me. Me! I weigh a ton.”

At that last comment, a deep growl resounds from behind you. It takes half a second to realize it is not from the hybrid holding you. Catching your breath and snapping your mouth shut, you cautiously peek through your hair to look behind you to see none other than Mr. Min Yoongi, who turns out to be the owner of said black tail, now snapping to and fro with irritation.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, your mind racing to figure out a way to get out of this situation without causing any further damage and how best to word your resignation letter.

“Miss Y/n, let us address a few things. Firstly, you do NOT weigh a ton, nor will you ever refer to yourself in that manner again. Secondly, I am not injured, nor could you injure me, as I AM an Alpha in my own right and am stronger than I look, even if I am not the Prime Alpha of the Bangtan Pack.” Yoongi’s eyes flashed a different color.

You shrink down to try to make yourself smaller. Seeing your reaction and realizing that his Alphal is trying to be in control again, he takes another deep breath to calm himself, looking between you and Derek.

“Lastly, would you be so kind as to allow my Alpha to inspect you for injuries? I came out of the observation room door unannounced and ran into you. I tried to prevent you from falling, but we are close in height, and I could not do much other than take what I hoped was the brunt of the fall.”

Turning more towards him but still staying in the safety of Derek’s hold, you look at him with confusion. “Your Alpha? Like your hybrid-side is not yourself?” Looking over your shoulder at Derek, you see him with a smirk and a chuckle on his lips.

“Missy here,” Derek looks at Yoongi, “has never met an Alpha male before. I am a beta, and her best friend is an omega.” Turning his attention back to you, “Unlike Evie and I, an Alpha has an inner animal that they can change into fully at will and it allows them to go into Alpha space to assist in protecting, hunting, and mating.”

You look at Yoongi with wide eyes, “You turn into a black cat?”

“I am not a black cat,” he huffs in annoyance, eyes flashing a different color briefly. “I am a Black Jaguar hybrid, and I am trying my best to keep him at bay because he can sense that your emotions have calmed down, but you are still in pain.”

His eyes roam over your figure, stopping when he notices you are cradling your right wrist. Standing up and motioning to a nearby chair, he asks, “Please, can I inspect you for injuries? I can see you are being careful with your right hand.”

With a gentle push from behind you, you move to the chair Yoongi gestured to. Derek also stands up but keeps his distance, watching how the two of you interact. Yoongi kneels before you, “I have to let my Alpha see for himself. I promise he will not harm you. Mr. Gulley can attest to that at this point, my Alpha would have much rather hurt himself than you.”

Glancing at Derek, he nods with a knowing smile while taking a seat a few tables over. Taking a moment to collect yourself, running your good hand through your hair and fixing your shirt, you look down at the hybrid. With a slight smirk, he looks at you with kind eyes, “Miss Y/n, please allow me to check for injuries. You have no reason to be nervous. You look perfect as you are.”

Blushing slightly at his words, you nod and tuck your hair behind your ear. You watch him closely as his dark brown eyes slowly change into a stunning golden-yellow color, with the pupil elongating into a pointed oval. His ears and tail moved this way and that, never quite settling in one position for very long. Your scent turns slightly back to sweet peas as the sight makes you smile softly.

Cautiously, Yoongi kneels closer to you to become within reaching distance. Taking your left ankle gently in his hand, he rotates it, bends your leg at the knee, and sniffs at each joint. He repeats the process with the other side as well. Finding that nothing in your legs seems to be hurting, he looks at your face again with a short, pleased chirping sound.

Scooting a little closer, he reaches out to your left hand, bends your elbow, feels along your fingers one by one, then rotates your wrist and again seems to sniff along the joints.

You fidget in your seat, knowing what comes next will hurt, but you don't know how the hybrid in front of you will react. Noticing your movements and the slight change in your scent, Yoongi wraps his tail around your ankle to offer support. A slight sense of pride fills him when your scent calms down at his gesture of comfort, even if you do not realize it.

Taking your right hand, he follows the same steps, pausing slightly before he rotates your wrist. You let out a yelp of pain and bite your bottom lip as you try to pull your hand out of his grip, which only causes him to hold it just a little bit tighter with one hand while the other quickly reaches to the nape of your neck to bring you into an awkward hug. Your head is now resting on his shoulder with your nose breathing against his neck, your good hand going to his side and gripping his shirt.

Once the pain has dulled, you realize you smell the rain, not like fresh rain but like petrichor or the earth after a good downpour. It is comforting and relaxes you even more until you hear a soft chuffing noise and remember who you are smelling.

Pulling away, you shyly look back at Yoongi, still observing you with golden-yellow eyes and holding your wrist firm but gently. “Umm... I think I just landed on it wrong. Just some ice and pain meds should be okay. I will be good as new tomorrow,” you say with a false smile, trying to play it off as no big deal.

However, Yoongi’s ears flatten, and his feline eyes narrow at you while nodding down to your wrist. Following his line of sight, you now see that your wrist is slightly swollen and is covered with a lovely purple color. “Okay, maybe I won’t be as good as new tomorrow.”

Derek stands up and approaches the two of you to see the damage done. Taking a sharp breath, he looked at Yoongi and froze, noting that the Alpha was sternly watching his every move.

“Mr. Min, please remember I am like family, a pack, as you could say, with Y/n. I am also not a mate, nor am I looking to make her one. Will you allow me to get your Prime Alpha and Manager so we can decide how to move forward?”

Outside the breakroom, Mr. Johnson, the director of PMS USA, was informed there was an incident and is now standing with Manager Sejin outside the BTS barrier. He had ordered Reina and the other playmates to be escorted back into the conference room by some other staff.

Mr. Johnson had hand-picked you to be the friendly first face of PMS because you light up any room you walk into and are always willing to put in the extra time to help make things perfect on or off the clock.

“Hello, I am the director, I really should go in there and make sure my employee is okay, Manager Sejin,” Mr. Johnson states, glancing at the members of BTS as they continue to block the door and growl at anyone who walks near them.

“Why are they not letting anyone near the door? I am sorry. I know about hybrids from the symposiums and conferences but rarely interact with many. I typically leave that up to my staff.” Glancing over at the hamster hybrid.

“Namjoon-ssi, do you want me to answer that, or would you like to?” Manager Sejin asks while watching Mr. Johnson. Namjoon redirects his attention from the breakroom to the seemingly incompetent human before him.

Taking a few slow steps forward, Hoseok takes over guarding the break room door. Namjoon comes to stand with his pack, but nearer to Mr. Johnson and Manager Sejin, he says, “Mr. Johnson, we are a pack. More so, we are a pack of Alpha hybrids. Ranging from prey to predator types. We are a bonded pack on top of that, which means it’s all or none. We all are protective of something or someone if one of us feels the need. When one of us is hurt, we are all hurting with them.”

Looking at each of his packmates, Namjoon is filled with a sense of pride. Though they don’t know the extent of what has happened, they still support their mate to the best of their ability in a foreign country without question.

“Yoongi is feeling protective of Miss Y/n because of a few things. Y/n is injured because of an accident caused by Yoongi. She is not in a good emotional state because of your Playmates’ behavior due to the same accident.” He looks back at the Director, trying to maintain a more neutral expression to hide his disdain for the women now in some office somewhere.

“As an Alpha, our animals require us to hold ourselves to a higher standard than others. We like to try and ensure those around us are happy. With a very select few, we want to make sure they are also healthy and protected, among other things. In Yoongi’s Alpha space, he has failed to meet these standards when it comes to Y/n. It is now beyond his control, so to speak, to do anything other than fix his mistakes and ensure Y/n’s safety, recovery, and happiness. This means the Bangtan Pack is now responsible for the same.”

“Oh well. Um. I see. I can reassure you that Playmate Services has a good doctor who can tend to her if she needs one, and of course, she can have the rest of today and even tomorrow off. No need to make a fuss.”

A deep growl rips from behind Namjoon, causing everyone to look and see that Taehyung's eyes have gone crystal blue. His scent of burning ebony wood crashed over the pack. “You seem to be in over your head, Mr. Johnson. You have more than one hybrid working for you, yet you know nothing. Your company's incompetence is allowing bullying. From what one of your staff says, it has been happening for quite some time and yet you do nothing about it. Did you not hear our Prime Alpha tell you that she is ours now. We will take her to get treated by our medical professionals. We will take care of her to ensure she heals properly and regains a better state of mind. Not you.”

“Hyung, it’s okay. Calm down, please. We don’t need two of you in Alpha space right now. It will not help Miss Y/n or Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook steps up next to Taehyung, scenting his neck gently as his snickerdoodle scent pushes out, causing the blue to flicker back to his natural dark brown.

With a last glare and a mumbled, “Pathetic, oblivious human.” He moves closer to Hoseok and, in turn, you. Jungkook quickly follows in an attempt to keep the high-tempered White Southwest African Tiger calm and get closer to you as well.

“You may have misunderstood me, gentlemen. I have tried to deal with the playmates and their disrespectful actions towards Y/n and some of the other staff. Sadly, Reina is a top pick and brings in a lot of money. Since we are the newest and smallest branch, the corporate office wants to refrain from taking any disciplinary actions for fear that she will quit. They think that any of the office staff are replaceable, whereas reliable Playmates are harder to find.”

“Mr. Johnson, while that may be the case prior to today, their bullying has gone too far. Manager Sejin,” Namjoon says, “I believe it would be wise if the director took care of the bullying by the playmates and joined them for the time being. We need a few moments without interruptions to assess what is happening and how the Pack will move forward with this office, if at all.”

Dismissing the director to be dealt with by Manager Sejin, Namjoon walks back to the door, which is now being guarded by Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. The scent of snickerdoodle, ebony wood, and lilac mix together with the pack scent of vanilla underneath.

“... can’t tell?”

“Can’t tell what?” Namjoon asks the small group.

“Hobi can’t tell,” replies Jungkook while Taehyung nods in agreement.

“The boys say that their Alphas are reacting to Y/n but I can’t tell if mine does or not. You spoke to her, stood right in front of her. Namjoon, can you tell?”

“Oh? Hmm, I guess I haven’t really paid attention. After what happened with… you know who… I guess I have been pushing my Alpha to the back as much as I could. I have been focusing on taking care of you guys, my mates, first and I couldn’t do that with him pacing in my head so much. She really tore Yoongi, Join, and Hobi apart inside with what she said. ”

Namjoon started thinking back to hearing your voice, full of determination and strength, over the phone yesterday. Your care, intention, and respect for the pack that you have shown today. It would be simple to say that his Alpha was comfortable around you, and from how the pack’s scents have been, he wasn’t the only one who was.

“My Alpha is comfortable with y/n, but I wouldn’t say that he is reacting in any particular way.”

A soft whine leaves Jungkook. “Why do the older mates always walk with blinders on? Huh! You need to really let your Alpha look at her. My Alpha hasn’t wanted to look away from her since we walked into the office.”

“Joon, I am with Kookie on this one. While I wasn’t drawn in right away, I trust Yoongi's Alpha not to react this way with just anyone. So when he ran after her, I was the closest one to the door and before the pack’s scent took over, I could smell vanilla with something rotten. At first, I thought it was a candle or something, but I looked around. There are no candles.”

Taehyung’s comment on smelling vanilla caught the attention of Jimin and Seokjin. Turning to join the conversation while still trying to maintain the barrier, Jimin speaks up.

“So it wasn’t just me. When Yoongi and that man went in, I smelled vanilla with almost a compost-like smell. After that, my Alpha wanted nothing but to keep everyone, human or hybrid, away from this door. He is really fighting to be at the front.”

“I figured that our muscle bunny was just leaning into his instincts of being a bunny when he was speaking about Y/n in the conference room. Yet it didn’t explain to me why my Alpha felt awkward at her bowing to me when I spoke to her before going into the room.” Seokjin commented with a stern but thoughtful look.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hoseok moves away from the door slightly, his expression confused and frustrated. “Are you telling me that you have all had some kind of reaction from your Alphas for the human lady behind the door? Some of you smelled vanilla, too?”

They all look at Hoseok and then at Namjoon, waiting for them to come to the same conclusion. After a few tense moments had passed, it was like a lightbulb went off over Hoseok's head as his lilac scent burst with a bit more hints of rose and vanilla. Everyone now focuses on Namjoon.

Namjoon’s head is racing over every moment that has happened since walking in the door. As Prime Alpha, his responsibilities for the pack are more significant than others, and with what the boys are hinting at, the next few moments will change so much.

“Her reactions were top-notch with our pack, and her showing an exceeding amount of respect to the packmates could be just her professionalism.” More whines and a few soft growls are heard. Looking up, Namjoon makes eye contact with each of his mates standing before him.

“However, only the vanilla scent can mean one thing which won’t be easy for the human woman.” Taking a deep breath, the pack turned their attention to the door.

“We have an American Mate.”

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Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop

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msbigredmachine · 6 months

Text

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

-----

Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

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mamirhodessxox · 4 months

Note

cody request: one where him and reader are in a serious relationship and Cody LOVES to spoil her. he buys her elaborate gifts all the time and constantly encourages her to run up his credit card. she never asks for things and feels bad about how much he gives her and always tells him not to get her anything. maybe she didn’t have much growing up and isn’t used to a bunch of “fancy” things. they talk and it all eventually leads to smut where he says something like “the best things in life are free anyway” in reference to the intimacy.

Millions

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody & Y/N recently got into a fresh relationship with each other despite the slight age gap, Y/N has noticed Cody has been bringing her gifts almost every day & she begins to feels guilty until Cody makes sure that whatever he does it stops her from feeling that way, Especially on their anniversary.

Content: Smut, Fingering, angst, mirror sex, Hair pulling, praising, Light bondage, Foul language, fluff, MDNI, use of the Red Light Green Light system.

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Y/N and Cody were polar opposites when it came to love languages, when the two started dating almost a year ago Y/N assumed at first that their relationship would be simple but with Cody? Oh no, His love language was acts of service & physical touch, Y/N assumed he was more of a physical touch and words of affirmation type of guy but she was very wrong.

Y/N’s love language was always simple, Physical Touch, Quality time & Words of affirmation, Cody literally smothered Y/N in luxury the first WEEK they started dating, He couldn’t help it, he loves spoiling the people he lives & as you could tell, the motherfucker LOVES Y/N…He barely lets her lift a finger when it comes to some things, Y/N will go down into the laundry room with a basket full of clothes and just as she’s about to throw in the laundry Cody pops up out of nowhere as if he has spidey senses on whenever she is doing something & tells her to put the basket down.

Because of this Y/N starts to feel extremely bad, she feels bad whenever he gives her gifts, a credit card literally telling her they will not be leaving the mall until she spends at least over a thousand dollars, Y/N has literally had to beg Cody to put the credit card away anytime he notices that she looked at 1 singular thing that would peak her interest.

Y/N grew up on the lower class side of life & had to work for most things in her life that she wanted, Cody worked super hard to get where he was in life & after many years of getting the things he wanted in life by his extraordinary hard work he wanted nothing more than to have someone in his life that he can spoil, which is why even after a year of dating him she is still shocked whenever he comes home with something just for her, He takes her out on luxurious dates & buys her a beautiful outfit to wear followed with matching lingerie sets to wear underneath, Y/N doesn’t have to ask for much given the fact that every-time she blinks he has something waiting right in-front of her.

Y/N had just moved in with cody a few weeks prior & so far it was great! They spent most nights cooking together and enjoying each other’s company while learning how to make new meals each night, Today was their 1 year anniversary & Cody was beyond excited, he had something up his sleeve & she could tell the moment she was about to step foot in the kitchen to grab lunch but he had it blocked off “Cody? Why is there a curtain hanging over the kitchen??” She called out while he hummed walking downstairs buttoning up his top & gently grabbed her shoulders turning her away “Don’t worry about it.” “Cody..” “minddd your business sweetheart.” He teased “What did you need I’ll go get it.” She huffed & placed her hands ontop of her hips “Cody let me in the damn kitchen.” “Can’t. Now what do you need?” She frowned and reached out for his hand and sighed “Can I have crackers please? ‘Need a snack” he grinned and gave her a short kiss before sneaking past the curtain while making his way into the kitchen to get her a quick snack.

For most of the day Cody encouraged her to go out somewhere with her friends or something but she wouldn’t budge so he left her no choice but to drive her to the mall himself to drop her off with his credit card while she stood at the entrance awkwardly while he leaned out the window “I’ll come back in At least an hour alright? I better see movement on that card sweetheart.” Y/N huffed and just as she was about to protest he rolled up the window & drove off leaving her by herself at the mall holding his card & lightly smacking her hands against her sides “Fuck.”

For the next 30 minutes she remembered he just told her to spend money, not buy anything specific so she had the great idea of buying him some things. And she did in-fact do just that By the time he came back to pick her up he had roses waiting for her as she got in the car & smiled seeing she had many bags in her hands “You get yourself something nice baby?” He questioned while grabbing her chin “I bought YOU something nice, since it’s our anniversary and everything.” He raised an eyebrow & looked at her sternly “Baby i told yo-“ “To spend money, You didn’t say anything about me HAVING to get myself something.” Cody sighed jokingly and nodded his head in agreement “Your right. But next time your buying yourself something.”

He finally drove home & immediately guided her upstairs with her face covered since he was still surprising her at home. “Get dressed and meet me in the dining room alright?” she smiles nodding in response before he pulled her into a passionate kiss before he pulled away patting her ass and walking out of the room. Y/N stared at the short black dress that laid on the bed followed with heels on the ground & seeing a matching lingerie set. She took her time getting changed and by the time she made her way downstairs she notices that rose petals were scattered into a pathway with candles lit next to them, She walked into the dining room to see a large bouquet of Roses mixed in with money shaped into looking like roses making her frown a bit before she set it aside and sat down just as Cody came in setting the table with the dinner he just made for her which was Steak followed with mashed potatoes & a salad. “What do you think gorgeous?” she smiled meekly and then started tearing up a bit making him rush over and crouch to her level “what’s the matter hm? Talk to me baby I can’t make it better unless you tell me.” She sniffled and wiped off the now ruined mascara from her face “I— I just feel so b-bad when you do so much for me! I d-don’t wanna seem like i’m using you, Cody I d-don’t deserve any of this.”

She frowned as he shook his head and pressed a kiss against her temple “No ma’am absolute not, none of that, Baby you deserve the goddamn world, I choose to spend my money on you because I want to, You deserve everything on this fucking planet sweetheart.” She shook her head in disagreement & he furrowed his brows a bit before gently pulling her out of the chair “C’mon sweet girl.” She hiccuped and followed him out of the dining room and upstairs to their shared bedroom where he placed her on the bed and lifted her leg as he got on his knees against the floor before pointing at the mirror that laid agains the wall on the right side of the room facing the bed. “See how beautiful you are honey? You look so fucking gorgeous how could you not deserve anything luxurious?” He asked before pressing a kiss against her ankle as he made her watch through the mirror, “Cody-“ he kissed up her thighs and sat up for a minute pointing at the mirror. “I want you to keep your eyes on that mirror understood?”

She nodded meekly and gasped as he suddenly tore off her dress “Cody!!” “What? It’s not like I can’t go buy another one.” He teased before getting on top of her and running his hand down her stomach & soon sunk it into her panties making her breath hitch as she felt his fingers start to toy with her clit, she turned her head but he grabbed her face and made her stare at her own reflection “Eyes on the mirror gorgeous, ‘want you to see how much your worth.” Y/N whined and pawed at his arm & let out a sudden moan when she felt him push two of his fingers inside of her cunt before slowly pumping them in & out of her making her bite down on her lip to the point where she swore skin was broken to the point where she was nearly bleeding.

Cody smirked devilishly before pushing her panties to the side & placing in a position where he sat behind her & both of them faced the mirror. Y/N watched through the reflection of them both as he thrusted his fingers in & out of her sopping cunt while he pressed his lips against her ear with a grin spread across her face “Look at you taking my fingers so fucking good for me baby, ‘m so proud of you sweetheart your doing so good f’me” he pulled his fingers away from her pussy & smacked her clit harshly as he watched her eyes roll back & hips buck upwards as she finally hit her climax making him smear her cum around her pussy before his free hands moving away from the thighs he held open up to her face holding it still so she couldn’t look away from the reflection of cody having his fun with her.

“Your worth millions Y/N, I want you to know that by time I’m done with you understand?” She nods quickly and lets out a strained whine as she watched Cody move himself off of the bed & took off his clothes before hovering above her & taking off her panties for good along with her bra “Color?” She smiled faintly “Green.” He grinned at her approval & pressed most of his body weight against her after rolling her over onto her stomach & lifting up her ass giving it a quick smack making Y/N lean her head down in the sheets. Before Cody started anything off he wanted to make sure she was all pampered and comfortable still proving her point from beforehand that he wouldn’t let her lift a finger or do any work. He wanted Y/N to be a pillow princess and just sit back and look pretty while he got off on pleasuring her.

He planted a pillow under her head & stomach & moved her hair out of her face before pressing his chest down against her back & kissing her cheek “Tell me what your worth again baby?” She whimpered at his command like question before mumbling under her breath “millions.” But that wasn’t good enough for him. He gave her a light smack against the ass “Say it properly sweetheart you know I can’t hear words over whining.” She frowned and tried stuffing her face in the pillow to avoid answering him but he grabbed her by the hair and tugged her head back up while smacking her ass again earning a loud yelp escape her lips “Millions!!” He smiled in approval before leaning back as he slowly seethed his cock inside of her as he smirked to himself when she let out a soft moan against the pillows while staring deep into the mirror, he waited for her permission to start making any sort of movement and the moment he felt her hand grab on his wrist as a signal to keep going he began to slowly thrust inside of her while his upper body leaned down against hers.

He stared her down through the mirror and lifted her face just enough for him to press his lips against hers and shove his tongue into her mouth the most he started thrusting his cock deep inside of her. “Doing so good for me sweetheart, taking me so fucking good.” He mumbled against her mouth before pulling away to speed up the pace as he started to feel her clench around his dick & beg for him to go faster. He admired her now disheveled look through the mirror, her eyes glazed over as her hair became messy from the way his hand kept tangling itself into her hair, the more he slammed himself inside of her the more she looked fucked out, her hand clutched itself into their sheets but felt a sudden stop, she came right back to reality when she felt him pull out & heard shuffling around the room trying to see what he was up too through the mirror but her eyes were fighting to stay opened. “Color sweetheart?” She heard him call out to her and she sighed out into the pillow trying to gather herself “g—green..” all of a sudden she felt Cody grab her arms and press them against her back soon feeling what seemed to feel like a belt bind her wrists together & him giving it a snug tug before pushing himself back inside of her cunt.

Y/N gasped and felt him hold onto her wrists snd the belt as his thrusts became sloppier and groaning each time his balls smacked against her clit that was all sticky & still wet from her first orgasm. Cody let exhaled raggedly before looking back up into the mirror seeing the woman he loved so dearly roll her eyes back even more over each thrust he took. “Feeling good baby?” He murmured as his cock buried into her cunt making her feel as if he was filling her up to the brim before he continued pounding into her sopping tight pussy until he let out a loud groan at the way she tightened up around him.

Y/N noticed Cody was about to cum just as she was about to, Cody leaned down once more admiring her blissed out stay “cum with me baby, c’mon sweetheart cum for me.” He chanted into her ear as she nodded while he pressed his fingers into her mouth groaning in her ear as he spilled his cum inside of her just as she felt her orgasm finally hit making her body spasm under his. He took heavy breaths before pulling himself out & lying next to her and running his hand through her hair giving himself and her a moment to wind down before he cleaned up the mess he caused. “What are you worth again sweetheart?” He mumbled while she smiled softly and trickled her fingers around his shoulder “Millions.” He smiled back at her and pressed a kiss against her cheek

“Damn right you are.”

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

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bondageundertaker · 3 months

Text

Last Night Lonely

Chapter 2/?

The Angel in me sees the Devil in you

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x Reader

Warnings: Smut

When you saw him next you were walking across the parking lot to your car.

"Hey!" you whipped your head around to see him waving at you from his tour bus stoop.

"You got a sec?"

"Sure" You covered the distance quickly and he stepped aside, ushering you up the steps with a barely-there hand on your lower back. A whispering hiss and the door closed behind you both. You turned to face him, taking in a breath. The warm white downlighting cast a candle-soft glow, illuminating Cody’s sharp features and darkening his neck tattoo.

“ I uh, I had an idea for a promo I wanted to run by you real quick.”

“OK, shoot.”

“Yeah so I was thinking…I need to expand my character some and maybe take the chance to show a different side to me more than just a baby face…you know um… show some depth and angst or…romance…” he stepped forward, thumb rubbing at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you through lowered lids, long lashes punctuating his questioning tone.

The creative in you mused, nodding along as Cody spoke but unsure of how you could help given that you weren’t Talent.

“Do you think that…I mean, you’ve been behind my camera for a while now, producing my segments, you think I have what it takes to pull that off?”

He stood square in front of you now, so close that you had to tilt your head back to see into his face. Your heart fluttered under the intensity of his gaze; a mixture of lust and longing. Too good to be wholesome was the phrase that sprung to mind.

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. You close it, rinse, and repeat. You shook your head trying to snap out of your inopportune mutism but it had no effect.

Cody recoiled with a wince and flumped down on the couch, wringing his hands in his lap.

“Is it the lisp? Cause..I mean….” He half scoffed through the hurt. He had taken your negatory head shake as an answer to his question.

“What? Oh, no, what, um…” You moved to sit next to him and reached instinctively for his hands, body finally catching up to the situation. As your thumbs rubbed gently over his knuckles he dared to look at you with hopeful vulnerability.

“Like I said, lisps are sexy…you’re…very sexy.” Now it was your turn to wince at your own words, wishing the bus would suddenly slip into a sinkhole.

A smug smile tugged at Cody’s lips. The bastard.

“Kiss me” he teased, but you heard the command in his tone. Before you could gather any brain cells to say something, your body moved of its own accord. Moving a hand to his chest you tugged at the collar of his half zipped hoody and he let you lead him to close the distance between your lips, stopping only a hair's breadth short. You felt his hot breath on your lips for only a second before he swiped a lick of your lips from bottom to top with his tongue.

The lightning move sent a thunderbolt to your groin and ignited an ache between your legs. You gasped, lips parted, eyes closed. Cody then brushed your bottom lip between his pulling gently before kissing you again, this time with his tongue gently pressing against yours: sweeping, licking, tugging, at a sensuously slow pace.

The kiss deepened and as the tip of Cody’s tongue traced a line up the roof of your mouth you let out a shuddering moan, throwing your head back and breaking the contact.

You were half laying and half sitting on the couch, completely unravelled. Cody followed you with his body, moving you both horizontal and placing his leg between your thighs. You immediately pushed up into the friction and Cody welcomed the movement by grinding down, rocking you with pressure.

By this point you were completely gone, a slave to your carnal desires. Cody began nipping and sucking at your throat eliciting the most pornographic sounds you’d ever made.

“Jesus. Shit. Fuck.” Cody exhaled, nosing against your skin now peppering kitten kisses to that spot beneath your ear. With one hand you grabbed his hair and raked your nails against his scalp. With the other hand you gripped his shoulder and pulled him down to you, leveraging his whole weight. You rolled your hips desperate for more of him, his erection throbbing against your core.

“Cody!” You let out a petulant harumph. Now pushing your breasts up into his chest, needing him to be touching you everywhere, desperate for total contact.

“Y/N, fuck. Shit. I can’t. I’m…shit. I..” He couldn’t string the words together to make any sense. Instead, he doubled down on your neck and began sucking, biting, marking your skin. He only came up for air with the most obscene pops to accompany the heavy breathing and guttural moaning that filled the air.

“Pleaseeee…I…!” You pushed at his face, cupping his jaw as he stared stupid into your eyes. He was a sight to behold: pupils blown, cheeks flushed, pink lips swollen and glistening.

You moved your hand to his shoulder and with the other pushed him back to sitting so you could straddle his leg. He squeezed your ass tight with both hands, head coming forward to nuzzle between your breasts. You whipped your v neck sweater off with one swift movement and cupped behind Cody’s ears as he immediately moved to suck at your breast through your bra.

“Ahh!” you yipped as he pinched your nipple between his teeth, hands coming to massage the other, this time rolling your nipple through his fingers.

All you could do was tip your head back and grind down chasing your release, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. It wasn’t enough, you needed more.

“Cody!” you begged, taking his hand bringing it to your mouth and sucking on his fore and index finger. Wild with pleasure you almost forgot what you had wanted them for and with a gentle graze of your teeth you released his fingers and guided them down your torso. With his palm against your navel, he used his other hand to unbutton your jeans. The moment his finger brushed your clit your orgasm overcame you in stuttering bursts. You collapsed on top of Cody, riding out your high to its twitching end.

Cody held you all the while, big palms sweeping circles across your back. Once you arrived back in your body you pushed yourself up to face him.

“I….” he began, fully flushed up his neck. He almost looked bashful. You moved your hand to the front of his tracksuit bottoms, eager to assist his release. Pressing down with your palm, he jumped with a hiss, bringing his forearm over his eyes. You looked down and saw the wet spot already darkening the emerald green material.

“Did you….?” you started.

Cody nodded, chancing a look at you, smile tugging at his lips.

" I guess your pussy likes my lisp as well..."

#wwe #cody rhodes x you #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes #american nightmare #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut

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famousstatesmanbearroad · 5 months

Text

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY PART 2 (CODY RHODES WWE)

• Parings: Cody Rhodes X Fem Reader

Warning- Language, 18+ only (minors DNI), Dirty Talk, Smut, Fingering, (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

After a week since your last interaction with Cody, you stood before Damian as he looked at you with nothing but anger.

These last couple of weeks, you've been avoiding Cody. And you made it evident to him and yourself that you were avoiding him. It was awkward talking about that night, especially the fact you two couldn't resist for another round.

But you were also avoiding Damian. Only because every time you two were supposed to talk about what Cody said the night the two got into an argument, something came up, and he noticed that every time there was something, he would get frustrated every single time. But he dragged you into the Judgement Day's locker room, kicking everyone out as it was just you two.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" Damian spoke as he crossed his arms and looked at you. You rolled your eyes as he said this. "I'm not ignoring you, Damian." You said. "But believe me, the fact that you and I are even having this conversation and that you are mad honestly makes me laugh." You said.

"Laugh, really?" Damian said. "To find out from someone I despise that he slept with someone that I really like honestly makes me sick!"

"Sick!?" you spoke. "Okay, you know he lied to you, right? He did it to get into your head and mind. You're not the only one who hates him."

Damian stayed quiet as he heard what you said. Apart from him, I knew you were right about Cody getting into his head. That's what Cody does, especially to you.

And he has been doing it lately, and you two haven't had a single conversation, or in other words, you two insulting each other, since that night with Damian. It's different.

Cody is one of the best wrestlers in WWE at the moment, whether people like to admit it or not. And as Mr. Money in the Bank, or what people like to call it, Senor. Money in the Bank, Damian saw Cody as a threat, and Cody saw Damian as someone in his way from finishing his story, or whatever this whole thing Cody got going on.

What Cody was good at was weakness. He knew how much Damian liked you, which is one of the reasons why he said what he said to him. You think, however, just by how he spoke to you that night, it was something more that.

Damian crossed his arms, hesitant, but asked you anyway. "So you and Cody didn't sleep with each other?" He asked. You look at him, quiet for a second, before responding with a lie.

"No,"

"I don't believe you," He spoke as he uncrossed his arms and walked over to you. You looked up at him and noticed the way he looked at you. Damian was a handsome guy, which is why you gave in the first place and gave him a chance after trying for the longest even to get your attention. That and you never really had a guy try this hard to even talk to you. I know how much high standards you have for men.

But you shrugged your shoulders, not trying to defend yourself. "Okay."

Damian sighed, placing his hand on his cheek. "I don't want to know if it is true. I like a lot Y/N," He said. "And I'm not going to let anyone, let alone Cody, get in my way of making you mine."

You didn't react to his words. How could you when Cody's words replayed inside your head right after he said that?

"Damian is too soft, too much of a good guy even though he plays this bad guy on camera."

Damian was too soft. If you were in Damian's shoes, you would end this, although not waste your time on someone who made you look like an idiot in front of everyone.

But after that conversation, you knew the two wouldn't work out. And as much as you hate to admit it, it was all Cody's fault.

You left Judgment Day's locker Room, heading back to the female locker room to get your bags. The show was officially over, which meant you were off for the next couple of days, and it was peace to you. You loved traveling, but you also loved to relax, which is why you were so excited to stay in at least one city for the next couple of days.

As you walked into the locker room, you noticed Becky, one of your few female friends, in the locker room. She looked up at you from zipping up her bags and smiled as you walked in. "Hey, Y/N, where have you been?" She asked as she stood up.

"Hey, Becks," You spoke as you headed towards your stuff. "I was with Damian."

Becky smiled, dropped, and rolled her eyes as you mentioned Damian.

Becky hated every single member of the Judgment Day. You and Becky's biggest problem. Rhea Ripley. Becky's problem was much bigger than yours since you were technically seeing her friend.

"I don't mean to Judge, but Damian, out of everyone. You're a gorgeous woman, Y/N; you could do better than that." She said.

You gave Becky a smirk. "Careful what you say, Becks; I may steal you from Rollins." You joked, earning a laugh from Becky.

"I'm serious, though," She said. "And I thought you two were over after what Cody told him."

"Ugh, you heard about that two!?" You sighed in disbelief.

"Oh honey," Becky said, shaking her head. "Everyone backstage knows. What I want to know is if it was true or not."

Usually, you can keep your secrets to yourself. Even your brother doesn't know the majority of your secrets. But Becky, she was like a sister to you, despite the fact her husband and your brother hated each other. She knew all your secrets, to the point where you should have killed her.

But you looked away from Beck as you zipped up your bags. "It wasn't true... at first." You said. Becky's eyes widened, not expecting that kind of answer. "Okay, once I found out what he said to Damian, I confronted him, and we ended up having sex."

However, the reaction afterward was the last thing you expected from Becky. She sighed in relief and held a smile on her face. "About fucking time!"

"What!?" You looked at her in disbelief.

"Y/N, I heard all the way from Alica Fox when she was still working here how much sexual tension you two had before he left, and when he came back, I understood why everyone was saying that," Becky said. "I'm surprised it took him one comment for you two let it out."

You shook your head, not wanting to think about what the hell Becky said. It reminded me of that night and how he spoke to you. "It doesn't matter. He and I are not happening again." You said.

Becky remained silent. But you can see the hint of an "I called Bullshit" expression lingering on her face. You rolled your eyes and ignored it as the two walked out of the locker room.

The two of you continued to chat, talking about today's show and the upcoming show, which was not till next week until going your separate ways. As you go to your rental car, opening the back trunk, your phone rings, and a random number appears on your screen.

You usually get random numbers occasionally, mainly spam callers, which you would always ignore. However, something in you knew that this phone call was different.

Hesitant momentarily, you answered the call and brought your phone to your ear. "Hello?"

You weren't sure if you were going insane, but you swore that the person on the other side of the call had smiled the minute you spoke, which immediately answered your question about who was calling you.

"Cody?"

"Brilliant of you princess, I'm impressed you knew it was me,"

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the typical pet name he always gives you. "How the hell did you get my number?" You asked with annoyance in your voice.

"I have my resources." He said. Only one person came to your mind as he said this.

Sami. And you prayed that you wouldn't run into him because you knew you were going to kill Sami when you saw him.

"Okay, well, I'm hanging up now, goodbye."

You didn't let Cody say another word as you hung up on him and began placing your bags into your car. You saw Cody calling you several times, as you chose to ignore him. He then texted you as he closed your back trunk, hopped into the driver's seat, and read his message.

"You can't avoid me forever, princess."

You did exactly what he said you couldn't do: ignore him. You toss your phone into the passenger seat as you drive straight to the hotel you are staying at.

Upon arrival, you went straight to the front desk to check in, giving the lady your name so you could get your key and enter your room.

However, the lady made a confused face, followed by a realization, leaving you confused yourself.

"Oh, your fiancé was just here not too long ago and checked you in?"

You thought you heard utterly wrong as you looked at the lady and spoke. "My what!?"

The lady was now confused, but by your reaction. "Yeah, your fiancé said you were running late and decided to check on you. I believe he said you would meet him in your room?" She said. "Should I call security? Have I made a mistake?" You Immediately shook your head.

"No, no, my apology; I forgot he told me that we are getting my key for me. I'll call him, thank you."

You didn't want any trouble happening as you walked off with your bags and called Cody's number. You can hear him laughing the minute he picks up.

"Yes Y/N?"

"Give me my damn key Cody!?" You said with irritation in your voice. You didn't have time to play this cat-and-mouse game with, but he was pushing your buttons.

And Cody could hear it in your voice, which made him laugh even more. He doesn't do anything further as he gives you your room number.

After going up the elevator to your room, you bang loudly at your door, just like you did to Cody's the night in his room. He opened the door, and you looked at him with annoyance as he smirked and moved to the side, allowing you to walk inside.

"Can I have my key, please?" You asked, placing your bags down and phone on the nightstand next to your bed. You turned and looked at Cody as you noticed he was wearing a suit. He probably used his charm and smile to enter your room.

Cody walked up to you and handed you your keys. You try taking it away from him, but he quickly moves his hand back, looking down at you.

The two were close once again. He watches you as you look up at him after getting frustrated for not getting the key.

"You have been avoiding me, princess," Cody said.

You realize he was being serious. What kind of startles you? He was bringing that night up.

"What did you expect me to do, act like nothing happened?" You told him. "That night shouldn't have happened."

Cody just stood there, listening to what you had said before walking over to your nightstand on the opposite side and placing your key there. You still didn't understand why he was here, and some of you didn't want him here.

"I agree," Cody said. "That night shouldn't have happened." He said, then walked over to you. "But it happened."

You stepped back every time Cody stepped forward before your back hit the wall. You couldn't even look at him anymore; you were now scared of what could happen now that he's towered over you.

"And as much as you and I went too far last time, I meant everything I said that night." You tried not to react to what Cody said, but he brought his lips to your ears and spoke once again, earning a gasp from you.

"Just because I agree it shouldn't have happened doesn't mean I regret it."

You looked back at him as he moved around and looked back at you. An immediate response shocked in between your thighs at what he was saying. He barely said anything inappropriate, let alone anything, and you hate how he's making you feel.

You already were in some deep shit just from that night, and you couldn't but do what you were about to. It was all on you and can't be regretted.

Your hands up to his tie, and as you played with it a bit, Cody didn't stop you as you felt his go heavy. The two of you thought the sexual tension was forming once again, and if last time didn't change anything between you two,

It will now.

"We can't do this, Cody," You spoke, biting your lips. You can hear Cody Sigh as he looks down at your lips. It turned him on seeing you trying to resist yourself from him, especially when he hasn't touched you at all.

"I know." He said

You shook your head, suddenly loosening the tie off of Cody. "I can't stand you."

Cody doesn't stop you; instead, he helps by removing his jacket and then the tie.

"That makes two of us," Cody spoke.

You gasped when Cody grabbed you by your neck and attached his lips to yours. You never thought in your entire lifetime that you would be missing Cody's lips.

This was wrong. Being in bed with him last time was wrong, and being here now was wrong. And you knew by the next day, you would call yourself stupid for letting your impulsive actions get the best of you.

But right now, you don't care. You desperately needed Cody's touch.

Your hands went straight down his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling out his shirt, all while Cody pulled your hair back, kissing your neck.

"Fuck," You sighed at the feeling of his lips. You pulled your neck back, allowing Cody more access. You could tell he enjoyed kissing your skin by the reaction of him pulling you into him more than you were before.

With one swift movement, Cody moved you to the edge of the bed. His large hands were on the bare skin of your waist, causing you to shiver.

The two of you fought with each other. He pulls off your shirt and kisses part of your skin. Your neck, chest, collarbone. Your skin was incredibly soft, and his doing this made you feel on fire. You tugged and unbuttoned his shirt, getting impatient every time you felt another button after unbuttoning another. His shirt was fully tugged off, and you pulled him in, almost falling on the bug.

"Easy, princess," Cody smirked by your eagerness. "I'm going to take care of you,"

His voice, the way he spoke to you, touched you. It was all not helping you stop from being so eager and wanting more as you moaned his name, sucking the breath out of Cody as you could feel his member jump through his pants against your hips.

"Holy fuck!" Cody groans and pushes you on the bed. "So fucking beautiful and sexy."

Cody hovers over you as he attaches his lips against yours again. He lays you down fully before spreading your legs apart and unbuttoning your pants before gently teasing you by rubbing your underwear that covers your clit.

"I can feel how wet you are for me, baby; you're so delicate, so soft and pretty."

"Fuck you so sexy when you speak to me like that," you slipped out. You swear you thought you said that in your head, but by Cody's reaction, he heard you loud and clear, and that turned him on.

"Yeah? Do you like that? My voice turns you on?"

Your hips start to buckle as he pulls your panties to the side and inserts two fingers into you.

"Oh my god," you moaned, gripping the man's arm as you enjoyed the pleasure he gave. There was nothing this man could do wrong. He knew exactly what he was doing. A little too much, as he could already feel yourself finishing.

Cody's words slipped out of his mouth. "You're doing so well, baby," Causing you to move your hips against him. You felt like this was all a dream; however, the dream was momentarily over by the sound of a phone, causing you to whine as Cody stopped.

"Ignore it," You told him. However, once you saw the expression in Cody's voice, you looked over at the phone, realizing it was yours.

And it was Damian.

"Why is he calling you?" Cody asked, catching you off guard by his sudden hint of jealousy.

"I don't know; I'll worry about it later." You spoke. However, Cody moved his hand away from you as he backed up and looked down at you.

"No, answer it," Cody smirked. Your face made a confused expression.

"What!?"

"Answer it, and put it on speaker," Cody demands. "I promise I won't say a word," Although you knew this was a bad idea, you took your phone off the nightstand and answered, placing it on a speaker like Cody told you to do.

"Hello?" You spoke. Cody smirked when he heard Damian's voice through the line and began kissing your neck.

"Hey, can I stop by your room for a bit? I want to talk to you." He spoke.

Cody's hand eventually slides right back inside you, circling your wet clit, earning a gasp from you. However, you composed yourself.

"I-uh, now's is not a great time."

"Look at you, talking to another guy while a finger you, so fucking hot," Cody whispered in your ear, causing you to hold back a moan by biting your lip.

"Oh, well, I just have a lot on my mind right now that I wanted to let out my chest," Damian said. "I want to tell you, it is about us."

Cody slid two fingers into you, causing you to gasp again. This time, Damian heard it.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You can feel Cody smiling so hard at this. "Yeah, I'm fine, whatever it is, you can tell right now on the phone, I don't mind."

You had no clue what you were even saying to Damian as your hips thrust into Cody's fingers once again as he sped up. The two of you made eye contact as your lips parted at the organism forming.

"Okay, yeah," Damian said, nodding, although you couldn't see him. "Listen, I just wanted to apologize to you if I offended you in any way earlier. I believe you when you said that Cody lied and that you two didn't sleep with each other."

Damian words immediately made Cody stop as he glanced over at your phone. You weren't listening to what Damian was saying until what he had said came out of his mouth, and when you did, you were taken back.

"I like you, Y/N, and I don't want someone like Cody to ruin what we have so far. And you don't have to say anything right now. I know it's pretty late, so can we talk about this tomorrow morning, breakfast."

Cody's head shaking made you hesitate. He didn't want you to go. But you couldn't say no, especially after what he just told you. You ignore Cody's head, shaking as you speak. "Breakfast sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."

Cody scoffed after you hung up and got off the bed. "You got to be kidding me, Y/N."

"Are you seriously mad at me?" You asked Cody as you noticed him fixing his clothes onto himself.

"Of course I'm mad," He said. "One you lied to him,"

"I didn't lie to him!" You defended yourself, getting off the bed as well. "And even if I did, why are you upset about it!? You and are not together?"

Cody turned to you. " I meant every single thing I said that night, Y/N." He said, "I meant that, and it's not something I will ignore. And I know that deep down, everything I said minutes before what happened got to you; otherwise, we wouldn't have had sex, and we wouldn't be here right now."

"Right now?" You raised your eyebrows. "May I remind you that you're the one who broke into my room!? You were the one who spread that stupid lie in the first place. I meant what I said that that night shouldn't have happened."

"So what? You're going to continue whatever you and Damian have going on. He's not someone you want, Y/N?" He asked.

"And you are?" You asked, crossing your arm. "Whatever is going on with Damian and me is none of your business. I mean, he's more than a man than you will ever be."

Cody smiled at your comment. Out of anger, however, he clenched his jaw. His eyes darken as he looks down at you. "Fuck you!"

"Fuck you too!" You yelled at him, "Get out of my room!"

"Gladly!" Cody yelled back and grabbed his jacket as he headed towards the door. He looks back at you before speaking one last time. "But when you realize the truth, and when you open your eyes, you're going to realize I'm right."

"I'd rather stay clueless and blind before ever saying you're right." You spoke. Cody shook his head before walking out the door and slamming it shut, leaving you alone as you sat down, trying to process what had happened.

#wwe raw #wwe #cody rhodes #american nightmare #cody rhodes smut #wwe smut #wwe x reader #smut #female reader #x reader #one shot #cody rhodes x y/n #y/n #x y/n

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thesummerpetrichor · 1 year

Text

𝓞𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼

Javier Peña x afab!reader

Summary: You’re a sociology student writing your final thesis, you shouldn’t care whether the new DEA attaché is an asshole, you shouldn’t be getting on his nerves every chance you get, shouldn’t be dreaming of him the way you do, and you certainly shouldn’t be bent over his desk in the middle of the night– letting him fuck you senseless.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, big girthy age gap [reader is in her early twenties Javier is in his mid 40s], petnames [sweetheart, girlie, baby, babygirl etc], smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy kink, dom!Javi, mean brat tamer! javi, sub!reader, major size kink, reader is a menace and a brat, cheek pulling, like two spanks and a slap, minor choking, degradation, name calling, fingering, semi public sex [in his office], rough sex, unprotected P in V [don't do it you’re better than them!!] let me know if I missed anything!!

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: Lotsa porn, lotsa plot. Filthier than I’d like to admit but here we are. Javier is emotionally unavailable but I don’t care. Enjoy nasties. Mwah 💗

Masterlist

My old man is a bad man, but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me

He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

You were sure you looked nothing short of unstable– the way you were smiling to yourself as you hit the ‘submit’ button on the first checkpoint of your research paper. The past few months had been absolute chaos, and you weren’t really sure what was worse; the fact that your workplace had become an HR nightmare, or the way you were enjoying every goddamn second of it.

Not long ago you’d been lucky enough to pack your bags and board a flight to Bogotá, where you were going to be writing your final sociology thesis. You’d fought tooth and nail with the department for this opportunity, and the fact that you were finally going to be there doing the work you’d always imagined– it was a dream. While you were initially a little weary of having to go through the American embassy to access records, and archives, you knew this was the best deal you were going to get, so you pushed your hesitation aside and took them up on their offer. You were obviously aware the department was going to give you hell for it– your work would be put under immeasurable scrutiny, they were going to bother you with emails all day every day, snoop around your work through their contacts at the embassy, and take any chance to fly you back. But it didn’t matter; it was going to be a dream.

Impressing the ambassador was your top priority, impressing everyone around you really was. For as long as you could remember your bright smile, hard work and sunshine attitude had only worked in your favor. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was the great privilege of being all your professors’ favorite student. That’s how you’d even convinced them to let you travel thousands of miles away on the university’s dime in the first place.

The world of academia was hard, especially when you were starting out, everyone you dealt with wasn’t a progressive professor who valued your opinion despite your age and gender. Sometimes you needed help from the sleazy HOD, or the grumpy receptionist and neither cared about your expertise on Helmut Schoeck. It didn’t bother you, all you cared about was the quality of your work, and you were not going to let anyone get in the way of it. So, if good work and behaviour didn't get you what you wanted you just used your batting eyelashes, innocent pout and harmless bribes– the receptionist had mentioned liking strawberry shortcake nearly two years ago in passing, and that information sure as hell came in handy when you needed to get your paperwork sorted out.

Boy did that skill of yours come in handy during your time in Bogotá

No one was going to make this experience anything but splendid, you were going to get to the embassy, meet the ambassador, charm her and all her coworkers in no time, make some trusted allies and go about your research unbothered and unfazed. You were determined. It was going to be a dream.

That was until it was an absolute nightmare. The moment your plane’s wheels hit the tarmac you were slapped with wave after wave of absolute frustration. Your phone was inundated with missed calls from an unknown number, and when you called back you were promptly informed by the Ambassador’s secretary that due to spacing issues you were being relocated to the DEA offices at the far end of the embassy.

Great, nothing better than being around a bunch of cops 24/7 .

You hadn’t made it three steps off the aerobridge before two men– both of whom looked terribly out of place in their baseball hats, grabbed you by the arm and dragged you through the airport. You wouldn’t say the word ‘accosted’ was dramatic when describing the way two employees of the American embassy had apprehended you. They didn't seem much older than you were, but they sure as hell thought they ran the damn place. When you thought about elitist diplomats thinking they were doing god's work you could be sure you imagined Agent Daniel Van Ness and Agent Chris Feistl’s faces before you’d even met them.

“Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Van Ness pretty much tossed you into his suspicious, unmarked vehicle, and as if you weren’t sore from your excruciatingly long flight you were sure you were going to need some ice packs when you got to your service apartment. “Okay, let's not make a scene, as I said we were told to get you as soon as you got off that plane” Feistl started the engine with one hand, and put the other one up in mock surrender.

“Didn’t know kidnapping was part of the Ambassador's agenda in Bogotá” .

The car ride to the embassy was mostly quiet, and you took the time to enjoy the beautiful Colombian city as it came into view, clear your head and mentally plan for your stay. That was, save for the two men’s grumbling about a certain Javier Peña. “Yeah, we miss this meeting and Peña’s gonna be on our ass for the next week” You’d quickly learnt he was a little bit of a hero in the DEA world, whatever that meant– took down Escobar and all. And if you couldn’t loathe him more already he was now promoted to attaché. From what Van Ness and Feistl told you he sounded like a character– hard ass, stubborn, insolent, the list went on and on. This Javier must really be something

How bad could he really be? Probably some grumpy old guy you’d run into once in a while at the water station or fax machine. He’d pay no mind to you; some irrelevant college student. Besides, you’d win him over with your signature smile. Who knew maybe you’d even become friends? “Well Im looking forward to meeting this Javier Peña”

“No one has ever said that. I don't think his mother said that when he was poppin’ out.”

And boy were they right, Javier Peña really was something. The elevator doors opened to what would soon become a familiar sight– Javier trailing the ambassador as she tried to escape him and the DEA offices. “With all due respect, if I wanted to be a babysitter I would've taken up a job with the RIPs” She turned to face him, her back to you. “Agent Peña, I'm going to repeat myself one more time, and I really shouldn't have to, but please stop referring to them as the “RIP’’s ”. Talk about professionalism, you definitely weren’t expecting whatever the hell this was when you thought of diplomatic work.

Noonan almost unceremoniously bumped into you as she skirted away from Javier, raising her hands in absolute elation now that he had to take care of you, and couldn’t bother her any longer. “There you are, perfect! Agent Peña show her around, and please, be nice.” She all but pushed you into him, and you heard Javier helplessly and pathetically yell after her as she walked to the elevator. “I still need that clearance ambassador–”

Despite the fact that he was looking at you like he wanted to tear you apart you didn't let that distract from the absolute marvel Javier Peña was. If you didn’t know any better you’d be on your knees for the man, and you couldn’t trust that you did. With the way his hair sat messily ruffled atop his head in soft curls, falling dangerously close to his eyes, or the way his now crinkled button up from the tiring workday hugged his forearms, who could blame you? Who knew, maybe you even liked the way he looked at you?

You shot him your signature smile, and extended your hand to introduce yourself. Forget about Noonan, she’d probably retire soon anyway, it was his approval you really wanted now. With brows raised he took his time assessing you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes raked over your body, or the way he chewed on his lip as he did so. Feeling a little, or maybe very, hot under his gaze you shifted uncomfortably, still holding your hand out politely, but all you got from him besides his shameless gawking was a condescending chuckle, and he was turning away and walking back inside.

So he really was an asshole.

You stood in shock for a moment. Was this some sort of odd hazing process at the embassy? What the hell was going on? His voice zapped you out of the absolute embarrassment of an interaction you just had. “You gonna stand there all day?” God he was such a prick. You’d barely been there two minutes and you were already on Van Ness and Feist's team. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like if he was your boss. Or could you?

Your gaze hardened at the realization. If there was one thing you were not going to do it was lust hopelessly after a man who didn't even want to give you the time of day, someone who thought he was so much better than you were. You were not going to inflate his already massive ego by crooning for his praise, no! You were not going to let him wield that kind of power over you.

You watched as he walked through the office, the man sucked the air outta the room with the way he quite literally strutted across it. Practically dragging yourself behind him you tried your best to compose yourself, you were not going to let Peña and his asshole ways ruin your stay– he was going to like you, going to give you the time of day– and if hard work and a good attitude didn’t do it, your batting lashes certainly would.

—

Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples

You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh, yeah

In the subsequent days you surprisingly had made yourself quite at home in the embassy– after all you did spend almost all of your day there. Van Ness and Fiestl soon became great friends, and would often drop by your workstation during breaks, or to invite you out for drinks after work. Things were going rather well, there was nothing much to complain about. The people who worked at the embassy were really friendly, and many of them took a liking to you. If charming your way into everyone's good graces was still your plan it sure as hell was working.

You’d even met a certain blonde haired, blue eyed office heartthrob. While they were both certainly easy on the eyes, Agent Murphy was otherwise little like his partner, he was friendly, helpful, and generally in a good mood. Hell he even wished you ‘good morning’ when he got into work everyday. In due time you could even say Steve Murphy had become somewhat of a friend, he was quite fond of you– then again everyone in the office really was.

That is almost everyone.

Progress in the Javier department of your life had barely made moves. He was such a dick. On your second day you remember knocking on his door and politely asking if he could sign some papers that would get you some cultural records in Bogotá. You didn’t know what response you’d been expecting, but he'd essentially told you to leave him the hell alone.

You wondered if being such a bitter jerk was exhausting. “Now girlie, runalong..” And with that he shut his door. You didn't want to let it affect you, but it did. You crooned for his attention, but he was so cold and detached, and nothing seemed to get through to him. The smiles, the ‘good mornings’, the way you’d offered to drop his files at the Ambassador's on your way there, it did nothing. He only smiled at you condescendingly, and at one point even joked about how he wasn’t sure you were capable of making it to the other side of the building.

“Don't worry your head about these files, wouldn’t want you wandering around, lost, tryna find Noonan’s office.”

Not to mention how he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your “silly little paper”, how your work was “cute” or “funny”. God, you couldn’t stand it. The way he leaned over your desk, jumbled up your resources while he carelessly looked through them. With his messy, loose tie, and his sideways smile, and warm, comforting brown eyes, and that mocking teasing tone…...

—-

My old man is a tough man, but

He got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam

And he shows me, he knows me

Every inch of my tar-black soul

“If he can’t drink it, or fuck it, he’s not interested.” When Feistl had told you that on your first day you scoffed, but it proved to be valuable, and unbelievably, true information in no time. Unintentionally Javier had condemned himself to an eternal state of perdition, you were not giving up, and this time you were going to drive him crazy.

He surely wasn’t prepared for the little menace you became in the following weeks. You only felt pride when you’d catch him looking at you– embarrassing how he couldn't keep his eyes off. You and your cute little dresses, skirts, those you didn’t initially plan to wear to the office. His glare almost burnt a hole in your back everyday at midday, hotter than the afternoon sun peaking through the blind covered windows as you sat on Van Ness’ desk, laughing at something Feistl said. If there was one thing worse than an HR violation, it was an HR violation with a girl nearly half his age.

You’d found a fancy for discovering his ticks, new ways you could push his buttons. When you weren’t calling him sir as you addressed him, or taunting him with your dopey eyes and girlish smiles you were making his life a lot less convenient.

“Where the hell is Peña” at least twice a week Stechner would all but slither into the office, talking about congress people, funding and how the DEA was raining all over his parade. As much as you hated the man, he was your trusted ally in trying times, especially when you decided breaking the office’s unspoken rule was going to be your new favorite pastime. That rule was of course, never telling anyone, especially his colleagues, where the hell Javier Peña was at any given time.

So when Bill walked up to you and leaned beside your desk you faithfully pointed to the filing room you knew Javier was quite literally hiding in. When he walked, more like stormed out with Bill you were sure he could break you in half, the way he was looking at you, but you had given up lying to yourself, you loved it. Every morning he’d come into the office and have to find other places to escape to– from Noonan and Murphy and all other accountability. But for a cop he was pretty shit at it, and you always found a way to tell where it was he'd gone to. It also helped that nearly everyone enjoyed it when Javier had to deal with the bureaucracy, it was free reality tv, and you could be sure if you didn’t know who or what he was trying to avoid, someone else in the office surely would.

You had simultaneously become a great asset to Steve Murphy, who was, more than you expected, willing and enthusiastic about getting shit done, shit that Javier’s stubbornness would only prolong, especially because he knew the mix of Peña and the CIA was anything but productive. Whether it was distracting him while he got support for their missions, or rushing to answer the phones and covering for him and making Javi deal with Noonan you were always game. Murphy was always appreciative.

“Steve’s out right now, but Javier’s in his office if you’d like to speak with him…” Steve pretty much cackled behind his desk as you handed the phone’s receiver to Peña, and watched as he exhaled heavily through his nose, using every bit of restraint he could possibly muster not to kick the two of you out of the building. He settled for flipping Murphy off instead.

As someone who wasn’t an embassy employee you pretty much had free reign over the place, and you knew it only made Javier more upset knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. You were thoroughly enjoying your time in Bogotá, you knew Javier was thinking about you, you knew how much you got on his nerves, you loved the way he’d glare at you, boss you around, get annoyed at your little antics. You craved his attention and you were finally getting it.

Though every once in a while you’d feel a little pang in your chest, at the way he’d roll his eyes at you, be his regular mean self. But you shoved that feeling aside, you did not want his approval. That would be pathetic. You just wanted a little payback.

—

He doesn't mind I have a flat broke-down life

In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me

Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone

Javier had been avoiding you like the plague for a good two days. That was after he overheard a conversation you were having with your supervisor he wasn’t really meant to be a party to. You remember twirling the cord wire between your fingers as you updated her over the phone. “Yeah, I need to get to the congress library, they have all the copies there.” You pushed the speaker button, letting go of the receiver to sift through the piles of printed paper on your desk. “Do you have access, did the embassy get you an ID? I spoke to Noonan but she’s busy babysitting her employees.” You bit back a smile. Javier and Murphy sure were a handful.

“No, of course they didn’t. They don’t give a rat's ass” Frankly, you were exhausted from having to get or find somebody to do anything around there. Noonan was practically no help until the dean was breathing down her neck, for people who had been working in Bogotà for years very few in the embassy knew the directions to anyplace that wasn’t a bar, and everyone was far too busy kissing each other’s ass to get things done. “The DEA can go, can't they? Get one of em to take you” Before you could respond you heard the rattling of the water cooler behind you, and you caught Javier’s half shocked half annoyed expression in the reflection of the window as he scrambled for a paper napkin to wipe the water off his dress shirt.

“Hmm, I didn’t think of that…..that's a great idea”

That was on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent turning in the opposite direction anytime you approached him, sneaking past you on his way in and out, and begging Murphy to take that trip to the Congress library instead. On Thursday you were sure you won the lottery.

Both Murphy and Carillo in the same room, and better yet in the office before Javier had made his grand entrance. They stood over what looked to you like a large map, arguing about something with far too much energy at eight in the morning. You saw this as your little opening. Where the hell was Peña?

Turns out he was with the Ambassador.

—-

Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Château Marmont

Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup

Glass room, perfume, cognac, lilac fumes

Says it feels like heaven to him

“And you’re going too?” Ambassador Noonan sat back in her chair, twirling her pencil between her fingers, looking expectantly at the irate face in front of her. You thought you’d spare Agent Peña his white lies, answering promptly in that sweet voice of yours. “Yes, Agent Murphy told me, and besides, if he's around I can access all the archives..” You shrugged your shoulders and shot her your most persuasive smile. “Government ID an’ all” . You almost felt bad for Peña, the way his friends were so quick to rat him out. But then again he’d stirred up enough petty fights over the years so that nearly everybody was quick to get their petty revenge. That jerk was planning to take his little trip to the library– with Carillio of all people, and he was going to leave you behind? Not anymore.

“Well, I don't see the problem, just take her to the goddamn library. Jesus Peña why is everything so difficult with you.” Javier shot you a glare you could only describe as deadly, but you could only giggle at his exasperation. He rose from his chair, leaning on her desk, like he was trying to seduce her into getting out of this situation. You wondered how Noonan showed so much restraint, if you were her you’d be giving into anything he said no questions asked.

“Ambassador, really, all that is below my paygrade, don't ya think?” Your mouth fell agape, and you turned to him to find he was smiling, looking directly at you. Asshole “This whole conversation is below my paygrade. You’re bothering me Peña, get to work..” and with that the two of you were practically kicked out of her office and thrown into the hall, where in the deafening silence you heard the large wooden doors slam behind you.

You were lucky there was no one else around, especially when he practically slammed you against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Tryna fuck my whole day over baby?” You had to physically fight yourself to not give into the death grip he had on your shoulders, to hold yourself up as he caged you against the corridor. “I just really need these papers, and only you can get ‘em for me ” You bat your lashes at him, and he pressed his forehead against the wall beside you in complete frustration, sighing. He knew that wasn’t true, and he knew you did as well. Any intern could have gotten them for you, but who was an intern in comparison to him?

“I won't bother you again, promise” you bit your lip and held your pinkie finger up in what Javier saw as practically an act of war. His hands moved from your shoulders to grab you by the waist as you looked up at him. Despite your smiley exterior you were all giddy on the inside, especially when he leant beside your ear and warned in his low whisper, thumbs drawing circles on your flesh.

“You're playin’ with fire baby..”

—

I'm off to the races, laces

Leather on my waist is tight, and I am fallin' down

I can see your face, is shameless, Cipriani's Basement

Love you, but I'm goin' down

As much as you wanted to bother Javier during his little snoop session with Carillo, you still had a job to do, so you shoved your brattiness aside for a few hours and got to work finding the documents you needed from the archives. You were honestly expecting a medal for your self restraint, because once you were done you waited patiently till he strutted outside after his meeting, barely holding up the heavy box with all your findings. You’d been standing there for almost two hours, and the jerk hadn’t even given you a heads up so you could sit inside.

“Finally.” He rolled his eyes, and like he was running some sort of marathon didn’t bother even helping you, speed walking across the parking lot as you stumbled and struggled behind him– attempting to keep up.

“We gotta get back, now.”

You buckled your seatbelt as he pulled out of the driveway, and relaxed against your seat as you caught your breath. “Where’re we going?” He turned to you and smiled, but it was in that signature condescending way that he always did. Meanie You thought to yourself. “We are not going anywhere. You are going back to the office, and I am going to take care of something you don't need to worry about.” You didn't know whether there was any use still being offended by his patronizing attitude, he could’ve just said you were going back to the office, but that was too normal, too dignified of a response for the great, cartel busting Javier Peña

“I could come.” He laughed at your pout, as he turned to look at you, rounding the corner. “Baby, don’t ya’ think that's a little ambitious comin’ from someone who got winded carrying a box across a parking lot.” You scoffed, yes, it would've been nice to have some help. “Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to do with whatever it is you're going to do, anyway” Wanting to turn away from him you looked out the window, but that only lasted so long.

“If this lead comes through, everyone in Bogotà’s gonna want everything to do with it.” You watched as the setting sun drenched your surroundings in a golden glow, and you couldn’t look away from the way Javier’s brown eyes too turned into pools of gold as the sun caught them. His voice a low hum just a little louder than the radio he habitually played as he drove around. It took a special type of maniac to go on missions off the clock.

“Who’s it for, the lead?” He hummed, and smiled to himself as he spoke, that look on his face you couldn’t quite place– like he was just waiting for his opponent to slip up. “One of the big guys. You should meet him when we bring him in– you’d get along– he's a pain in my ass”

You turned your gaze from the opening embassy gates to meet his eyes, your own narrowed into slits as you stared him down– he was smiling, and you hated it. “Mean.” He shook his head at your irritation, and wordlessly pulled up into the driveway. “Now, you're gonna take those files, and you're gonna sit your bratty ass down, and you're gonna work on that silly paper of yours” You were halfway out the door, lifting the giant cardboard box off the floor of the car with embarrassing difficulty.

Great, there was another thing he could berate you for.

“That's a lot of instructions..” Your voice was muffled behind your paperwork, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it when he tried to boss you around.

“Well here's another– don't touch anything while I'm gone.” He laughed to himself as he caught your rolling eyes peering at him over the top of the box, that being the only part of you that was really visible to him. Waiting for you to make it to the entrance he watched as one of his colleagues, one of the many heading out for the day, took it from you, and helped you inside.

The low hum of the radio replaced the sound of your voice, an old spanish tune coming over the static as he drove out and away from the embassy.

—

God, I'm so crazy, baby

I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raisin' hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it

“Didn't I specifically tell you not to touch anything” You lifted your head in the direction of that familiar voice, irritated as usual, but also a little more gruff, a little more tired. For a moment you regretted annexing his office while he was away. You watched as he sauntered in and towards his desk, opposite the little workstation you’d set up on a spare table where he’d dumped his tie and blazer for when the Ambassador popped around. He propped his hands on his desk, leaning against it to meet your gaze.

God did he look good, the day had taken its toll on him, but it was only doing him favors. That soft brown hair had been ruffled out of place, and that crisp button up sat wrinkled on his back, loosely and messily tucked into his navy dress pants, sleeves haphazardly rolled up his forearms. While he looked like he worked a regular nine to five, from the little you knew about his job, an intentionally minimal amount, you were sure the unkemptness was the result of some high stakes chase, raid or whatever it was he’d set his head to doing that day.

“‘M not touching, I just needed the AC” He rolled his eyes, but his neatly hung blazer and rolled up tie caught his attention from across the room. “See.. Untouched” You shot him that smile that you knew drove him up the wall, and he shook his head, now concerned more with sorting the paperwork splayed out in front of him. “Must be real hard, highlightin’ all that paper” He pointed to your reference material. As bad as the day was, it wasn't bad enough to persuade him to stop being a jerk.

The place was a mess, and he couldn’t leave it this way till the morning, that would be a hit to his professionalism far worse than any of the shady shit he’d done over the years. He didn’t have time for your childish antics. At least for the moment. It’d been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to get it over with. Boy did he look like he needed to let off some steam, and while at first glance your actions were doing anything but helping him relax, couldn’t he see you were just begging for him to use you for exactly that?

Maybe it was because he was tired of your shit, or because he was far too preoccupied with his work at the time, or because the office was dark and quiet and cold, but the next few minutes passed in uncharacteristic silence. You gazed up once in a while to see Javier’s scrunched brows sort through an abundance of filing. He’d sigh heavily every once in a while, and you could only wonder what or who, besides you, got on his nerves that much. You were almost eager to eliminate the competition. The world drowned out in the white noise of shuffling documents and clicking pens and you were once again lost in your paper.

Every part of you really wished he wasn’t such an asshole. What had you ever done to him anyway, for him to be so cold and mean? You couldn’t pretend you had nothing to do with it, you'd egged him on beyond measure, but you’d only ever wanted him to like you. Okay maybe you thoroughly enjoyed his irritation, but you only really ever wanted his attention. Pathetic.. You thought to yourself. You pretended he wasn’t bothered by you taking over his office for a moment.

“Done yet?” You hadn’t even realized how or when Javier had crossed the room and made his way in front of you. His fingers danced on the edge of your laptop screen. You didn’t feel like answering just yet, so you typed away at your keyboard for a while longer. The silence wasn’t appreciated, and you could feel the exhaustion radiate off him like heat. You caught him fiddling with the pens on your desk, and skimming over some of your printed material from the corner of your eye, and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter when he chucked it back on your desk in what you assumed was complete disinterest. He was going to try harder to get your attention.

You weren't prepared however when he practically slammed your laptop shut, forcing you to stop ignoring him. Talk about disrupting the workplace. Groaning, you rested your chin in your palms and peered up at him through dopey eyes. A man who had been driven to the edge, that's the gaze you met. It was not going to affect you, that muted rage, that wrought iron glare. You promised yourself. But your desires were already betraying you.. you rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache.

“There a problem?” With a tone that set his last teeth on edge you kept up the facade, against your better judgment. It was just too much fun not to. When you looked up at him through your lashes you could almost see the slight tick in his jaw, and your mind wandered to what other ways you’d like this type of view. “Yes, in fact there is. It's 1am” He leaned forward, dangerously close, to the point you could feel the warmth of his breath fan against your lips, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You caught the faint smell of cigarettes off his disheveled clothes, the scent of whiskey on his lips. You felt your breath hitch, but you hoped he didn't notice. How naive, that was.

“And” Your eyes darted to his mouth momentarily as you spoke, voice wavering. He raised his brows, almost to tell you not to push him any further than you already did. It was too late, however. Whatever this was had spiraled far out of your control, and he could see the way you squirmed under that commanding gaze of his. Your brain was screaming at the attention, and you had to inwardly yell at yourself to stop being so needy.

“And?” Your brows furrowed, your lips forming that signature pout when you heard him mock your tone, your voice. “I've had a long day, baby, and I wanna go home” You huffed girlishly at his ridicule, the way he liked to humiliate you by throwing your attitude back in your face with his snide imitations, his raised brow and faux sympathy. He talked like one does to a misbehaving child. In that patronizing, explanatory melody. You watched him chuckle with slitted eyes, though you were slowly turning to a puddle underneath it all.

“Go home then Mr. Peña. I'm not stopping you am I?” You watched his eyes darken, and you weren't even sure that was possible, but you didn’t have much time to think because before you knew it he was pinching your cheeks between his fingers, his other hand still holding him up on the table. You could only whine under his rough touch as its effects licked between your thighs. He laughed when you mewed at the sting.

“Oh but you are. You're just beggin’ me to stay, aren't ya’ baby?” Your soft and pathetically unconvincing ‘no’ was muffled as he squeezed your cheeks in his large hands, yanking you in his direction as you fruitlessly attempted to free yourself from his grip. Unable to help yourself you were almost crooning into his touch, your body basically begging him to rough you up. “Such a fuckin’ brat. Runnin’ your mouth all day, showin’ up in those clothes, fuckin up my schedule, acting like a whore” His soft whisper made you shiver, your skin now on fire. He spoke slowly, and every syllable made you want to drop at his feet with a vigor you could only be embarrassed of. He made you feel small, made you feel helpless under his touch.

You wanted to push back, wanted to defy his accusations.“‘m not a whore” He smiled at your whining, and if you were delusional, and you were, even hopeful, you’d say he did so endearingly. But Javier Peña didn’t care about endearments, and after the way you’d acted you’d be crazy to think he thought there was anything endearing about you. “Right baby. You're not. Gotta pay girls to act this way ‘round me. But look at you. Didn’t spare you a fuckin dime.”

He had let go of your face, and had in a moment, quickly and uncaringly dumped you on the table in front of him. You let out a soft “ow” when you felt your knees bump the wood before your legs were dangling off its edge. You were far closer to him now, and if you had felt small before you thought you were only shrinking in comparison to his domineering frame– physical, mental, everything. Your brain was mush, your body was mush, and you could only lean into his touch– benevolent or not.

In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture he patted your cheeks with the palm of his hand, lightly, as if to soothe the sore flesh, but it only made the way he pulled them mockingly far more jarring. “Know what that makes you babygirl?” He paused for a moment, knowing you couldn't answer, looking down at the way your eyes were now welling with tears at the pain, and reveling in the sight.

“Makes you a little slut”

You wanted to respond, wanted to defend yourself, but you could only settle for grabbing his dress shirt in the balls of your first. The fabric of your panties had pretty much soaked through, and you felt it cling to you uncomfortably as you shifted on the table to pull him closer. Practically begging for his touch.

He let go of your face, but he didn’t plan on being any more gentle. He knew there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say at that moment, and he took full advantage of your silence– telling you everything he’d wanted to scream in your face for the past month. It was even better now however, because as a fun bonus, for his superhuman self control, you were even pleading for him to do so. He could see it in your eyes, feel it on your hot skin, the way you subtly rolled your hips against the table to ease the pang between your thighs. He reduced you to a dumb, empty headed bimbo, with his words alone. He couldn't help but rub it in a little. “Aw baby, no words for me? Where’s that snappy mouth now?” That faux sympathy was back again

His hands rubbed up and down your sides, moving to toy with the buttons of your top as he spoke. Fiddling with them he popped the first few open, enough to expose the swell of your breasts to the cool of the air conditioned office. With lust blown eyes he trailed his thumbs along your collar bones and then down to your admittedly skimpy lingerie– you gasped when he yanked it down, practically tearing if in a swift motion. He admired you for a moment, held you in place when you squirmed against him, wrapped your legs around his waist.

You shifted on the desk, leaning your face against his torso, looking up at him, pleading with your eyes. “Like you better like this, clothes half off like a desperate slut that couldn’t even wait to get undressed.” He paused, still admiring, tracing your cheekbones with his thumbs. “Oh, and fucking quiet” he flipped you on your stomach, your legs dangling of the table when you writhed under his punishing grip– pushing your face down against the wood, bending you over it. “Whaddya think baby?”

As if he had enough of just looking you felt him flip your skirt up with his vacant hand, and yelped when his palm came down harshly on the flesh of your ass, the sting only egging on your tears of desperation. “You know what I think baby? Think I needa fuck some manners into you.” He smoothed his hands up and down your warm thighs, fingers finding the soaked fabric of your panties as you moaned and sighed above him. He knew what he did to you and he loved it. “Can pretend there's anything in that head of yours besides the thought of goin’ dumb for me”

You lifted your head to look up and behind you, you’d give anything to witness the sight you’d touched yourself to for the past month, but Javier was quick to slam you head back back to where it came from, and send your eyes rolling back into your head as he shoved your soaked panties aside and roughly pushed two fingers into your sopping cunt. "Fuck, look at this tight little pussy, can barley take my fingers." He groaned in your ear, leaning up against you as his digits fucked you at an agonisingly slow pace, just barely soothing the burn of desire building in your core. “Bad girls don’t get a view.” Light headed, you could only squeal, could only hide your face from him as he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your knitted brows and that pout.

"Y'know how messy y'are baby? Feel how this pussys cryin' for me, drippin' all over my hand?"

You kicked your legs in protest, salty tears streaming down your face and pooling at its side on the wood beneath you. He wasn’t happy when he found you pushing back against his fingers, grinding helplessly on them. For a moment you thought your wish was granted, but he was only yanking you off the desk so you could have your back flush against him, and he could get his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Still languidly pumping his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy he turned your face to meet his, and sneered as his palm collided with the side of your cheek.

Smack

“Watch it” You wanted to be a brat, wanted to defy him, but it was all too much to handle at once. You felt fuzzy all over, and who were you kidding you were always going dumb for him. Besides, how could you even keep your mind steady, not when you felt his hard length against you. You gazed right up at him, pushed back against him, eyes rolling back into your head as you did. He only laughed. “Oh baby, think it's gonna be that easy? Think ‘m gonna let you cum jus’ like that? After you've run me up the wall?” He squeezed your breast in his palm, bending you back over the table, now more gently, extending the olive branch, giving you a chance to repent. “‘M not a needy slut like you baby, those little tricks ain't’ gonna work” Javier was an asshole, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting to ruin you. But first he wanted to have a little fun.

“Please, please, promise I'll be good.” He hummed, pretending like he was debating whether he was going to give into your pleas yet. He wasn't. He wanted to soak in the sight– you splayed out on his desk, begging him to fuck you sensless, his hands roaming your body torturously teasing you as your pussy clenched around nothing, dripping for him.

“So now ya wanna be good? Well baby I'm not buyin it yet. Gonna take a lot more convincing than that.” His fingers found your clothed cunt once again, drawing soft circles on your clit. You wailed, knuckles going white when you gripped the table edge in front of you. "Feels good doesnt' it babygirl, I know, feels so good when you finally fucking listen." You pushed back against his fingers, practically humping his hand. The tears were back, and he loved them. “Aw, poor baby, too much?” He wasn’t asking, and you knew he didn’t care what you had to say anyway. He wanted one response, and you were far too wound up not to give it to him.

“Please please please. Won't be a brat, wanna be your good girl.” He kept you waiting and distraught, fingers still rubbing you through your panties as he spoke, knowing very well you could barely concentrate when he touched you, the squelching of your wetness only drove you towards the edge. “Now babygirl, you're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen good, and do exactly what I say. Ya hear?” You nodded your head vigorously, but a smack to your ass reminded you to use your words. “Yes. promise” He laughed. “Such an easy little slut.” You heard the jingle of his belt behind you.

You shivered when you felt his cock drag against your drenched cunt, tip bumping your clit with every pass as he wet himself with your slick. Your hips moved frantically, unable to get enough of the friction, but he held you back just enough, to where you would remain unsatisfied and frustrated.“Say" I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry for being a tease.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and the command alone was enough to send you over the edge.

“‘m sorry for being a tease daddy ”

“Say “I'm Sorry for being an easy whore””

“M’ sorry for being an easy whore” You’d never been more shy in your life, forget around Javier, who could never guess you had it in you. “That’s my good little slut.” But the way he was speaking to you, teasing, mocking, telling you what to do, what to say– you were hot all over with humiliation. You hid your face, pretty much smashing your forehead against the table, making sure no matter how far he lent he couldn't see the way you were coming undone under him.

He could probably sense it, though, especially by the way you reacted to his little praise. “That's it babygirl. Comin around now are we?” You didn't want him to have that on you, but you were lucky, in a way, because he didn’t care much to tease you anymore. He grabbed your hips harshly and with a rough thrust of his hips he was fucking you into the mahogany desk, your ribs bruising as he held you down against it. He wasn’t wasting any time, wasn’t stopping or going slow to let you adjust, he was reminding you of how tightly you’d wound him up.“So fuckin tight” his voice was a strained whisper behind you, and you made a noise you could barely recognise as your own at his words. “Hurts” you were whining again,this time at the sting, and you knew he didn’t care but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah baby hurts when daddy stuffs you full of his cock? My poor thing.. But you like it don't you babygirl? Like it when I stretch you open” he wasn’t wrong. The feeling of him splitting you open had turned you into a puddle, a moaning mess. “”S too big” his hands smoothed up and down your back erratically. “I know baby, I know, but you’re gonna take it aren’t you? Gonna take it how I give it to you dirty little girl?” You were, you took it how he gave it to you. “Gonna ruin this pretty lil pussy” He squeezed the flesh of your hips till you squeaked, the pain only adding to the pleasure as his hips smacked against yours.

You felt your legs shake as his cock pounded your aching pussy. “Jus’ needed daddy to fuck all that brattiness outta ya huh?” You nodded your head and he cooed at the way you melted into his touch. “Oh baby, that’s it, just like that.” Gazing up with hooded eyes you caught his reflection in the glass of his office window, half illuminated by the dim lighting– his own face scrunched up with pleasure. The sight only had you fucking back against him. You felt like jello, your heart pitter pattering at his little praise.

“My good little slut”

Wrapping his arm around you he grabbed your face roughly again, dragging you up and against his chest again.

“My slut, hear me?”

Yours, yours, yours

Your brain was a fog, and the only thing you could focus on was the way his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you clench around him as that burn built in your core– a string of incoherent “daddy’s” being the only thing you could manage to get out your mouth. “My dumb fuckin baby, my whore, squeezin’ my cock”. You repeated like a broken record; “daddy’s, daddy’s daddy’s”, the feeling of your slick running down your thighs making you go dizzy.

“Look at you, daddy’s little cumdump” your cheeks were burning, your eyes barley staying open. He pulled your face up from the desk. “Can barely look straight huh baby? Gettin all cock drunk on me.” You made out his dark eyes in the reflection. But you couldn’t bear to meet them. It didn’t matter. He was always looking at you.

“Only for you daddy”

Your release was building, like an inextinguishable fire, your pussy throbbing with need, just begging for it, and he knew it too, the way your walls quivered around him, the way you were moaning and panting, whispering soft calls of “daddy” when he held you against him. “Gonna cum babygirl? Gonna cum on my cock, bent over my desk? When ’m usin’ ya like a fuckin toy?”

Your body went lax in his arms as you came, your lips parting in a wordless cry, eyes fluttering shut. “That's it… cum for me”. You cherished that almost gentle encouragement as you came undone, tummy swarming with butterflies as you shook in his arms. He was still fucking into your sensitive pussy, pushing you further into the desk as he neared his release. You heard a strained curse behind you, before he was fucking you full of his cum in deep, hard thrusts, your legs dangled off the table as you milked his cock. Shivering at the feeling you closed your eyes, his spend leaked out of your sore pussy when he pulled out, dripping down your inner thighs obscenely. You heard his belt jingle again as he caught his breath behind you, and you felt silly for the way you missed his warmth when it was replaced by the chilled office air. He quickly shifted your panties back in place, making sure you stayed stuffed full of his cum. You winced when he smacked your pussy lightly. Raising your head you caught his reflection again, but you hid your face back against the desk almost immediately when you saw the way he admired his work in the reflection, like he could see the way he’d fucked the brattiness out of you.

With closed eyes you hummed as he turned you over and sat you on the desk. Now that you’d finally got Javier’s attention you were satisfied– all sleepy and fucked out. You wished he’d hold you, but you had to remind yourself fucking you hadn’t taken the asshole out of him. He was still Javier. Hardass DEA attaché Javier. You sat there for a while, and when you opened your eyes you saw him picking up his blazer and briefcase.

“If you're not up in 10 seconds I'm leavin’ ya here.” He was back to usual in a moment, and in your fuzzy little head you heard a well meaningness in that tone. “In those messy panties.” You pouted at his words, once again, and he watched as you hopped off the table, rubbing your eyes as you gathered your things, albeit clumsily–your knees wobbly to the point where you could see Javier’s smirk behind you as you shoved your laptop into your bag.

Turning off the table lamp he motioned with his head for you to get moving along, and you rolled your eyes at him as you walked out the door, stumbling slightly as you did. He gave you what you now recognised as that look, brows raised, and you didn’t have the energy at the moment to be combative.

Maybe you didn’t want to be.

“Come on now, runalong”

—

My old man is a thief, and

I'm gonna stay and pray with him 'til the end

But I trust in the decision of the Lord, to watch over us

Take him when He may, if He may

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

And we're off to the races, places

Ready, set, the gate is down and now we're goin' in

To Las Vegas, chaos, Casino Oasis

Honey, it is time to spin

Boy, you're so crazy, baby

I love you forever, not maybe

You are my one true love

Let me know what you think please!! I’d love to hear your nasty thots. I really hope you lovelies liked it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work. You keep me writing! Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗💗🐝🐝

1K notes · View notes

krirebr · 9 months

Text

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house.

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted.

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined.

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted.

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you.

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black.

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say.

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left.

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from.

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there.

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again.

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked. He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said.

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right.

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times.

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.”

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?”

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!"

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season.

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table.

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place.

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.”

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

“New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you.

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh.

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought.

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?”

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand.

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant.

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house.

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down.

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?”

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror.

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you.

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you?

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys.

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?”

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath.

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

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whydontyousaeso · 7 months

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#wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #fanfic #smut #cody rhodes #randy orton #the viper #the american nightmare #wwe cody rhodes #wwe randy orton

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randomshyperson · 9 months

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As It Was (Part 2) - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Once the truth is out, will you be able to forget and forgive the past, or the weight of choices be heavier than the feelings you and Wanda never learned to outgrow? | The Second Part is more based on "Satellite" than "As It Was" tbh. | Part One

Warnings: angst(ish) with happy ending, milf!Wanda, age gap, ex-lovers meeting again, witchcraft lore, some making out but nothing explicit in this part | Words: 6.552k

A/N-> At the request of many, I managed to write a sequel to that one "As It Was". It was much longer than I expected, but I managed to write things that I hadn't done before, so the result pleased me. Forgive me for the lack of smut, it ended up not fitting within the context and rhythm of the story, but there is the possibility of specials. I hope you all enjoy your reading.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection

-&-

It occurs to her that you are distant.

Physically speaking, it's quite evident - Wanda hasn't seen you for five days. Not even on her secret getaways from family dinners, school reunions, or anything typical of an American suburban mom's routine so perfectly set up for herself, brings you back. You don't visit her on any of the days that follow, not for lunches or late afternoons, nor do you send either quick or long messages made up of intense declarations that always shake her with all the emotions she might have.

Wanda has no idea where you are, and the lack of control over the situation almost suffocates her.

But there is something new that occupies her enough not to take action on it. Or rather, someone new.

It's true that time passes differently in Westview. The leaves are starting to turn orange when Pietro Maximoff arrives on her balcony. Wanda is trying to find her footing with so many ghosts from the past coming back at once and she has to admit that her twin brother's presence impacts her enough for her not to escape her house and family in an attempt to find out if you were still in the same motel where she left you in the early hours of one morning almost a week ago.

Wanda tries to focus on the good things in life; she has the family she always dreamed about, complete at last. A husband, children, and even her long-missed brother. She has friends and a house. She should feel happy and fulfilled, or so she tries to convince herself while she tries to ignore the not-so-easy feeling in her chest when she lies next to Vision at night.

He doesn't mind that she's distant herself. Sometimes, Wanda thinks he doesn't even notice. Maybe it's her will, playing with everything around her and ensuring she's not disturbed. In fact, Vision has stopped noticing many things since the last heated argument they had, on the same night that Pietro reappeared. He's just as distant as she is as if he has a whole life going on outside those walls. Wanda could say the same.

She falls asleep with difficulty, and it’s one of those nightmare nights once more.

When she opens her eyes, she knows she’s still dreaming.

Nevertheless, she allows herself to fall into that fantasy with peace of mind.

The atmosphere is familiar, and the smells and sensations too. Wanda remembers well how things were before Hydra, and before the outbreak of civil war in her country. In the few years of tranquillity at the end of her adolescence, where the revolution group was almost a pastime for irritated young people, for a moment, she could imagine herself as nothing more than a schoolgirl.

Of course, the war would get worse, and almost the entire group of her former colleagues would leave the universities to occupy the streets, but in the safety of the dream, none of this would happen.

Wanda could leave the soft bed and follow the smell of food. She knew she would find you in the kitchen, moving your hips softly to a gentle melody because this was a memory Wanda had never learned to erase.

Her voice came out raspier than she expected once she tried to call your name. But luckily, you were distracted enough by the food to notice the tears welling up in her eyes. After a whole week without hearing from you, she truly believes she lost you once more.

But in this dream, things were saved. Your hands just continued to separate the mixture. “Morning, krasotka (gorgeous). Sit down, there's coffee on the table."

Wanda swallowed, controlling her temper. She watched your back for a moment, trying to memorize every feature of that appearance in case this was the last time and she wouldn’t have another chance before that fantasy ended.

When she didn't sit down you looked at her, offering her an easy smile from a face marked with flour and youthfulness.

"What's wrong, Wanda?"

She moves instead of answering, determined steps until she reaches you at the counter. Your confused eyes close as Wanda, who has just grabbed your belt, pulls you close and kisses you firmly.

It takes you by surprise, but you respond without hesitation. The position isn't ideal, but you kiss her eagerly, as breathless as she is once she breaks the act. Wanda's tight grip around you makes you chuckle softly.

"Hey, Pietro will wake up soon." You warned in the same casual tone, rubbing your nose against hers. "He'll kill me if he finds out about us like this..." Your mouth pecks down her jaw to her neck.

Wanda giggles tearfully. She had forgotten about that. The teenage fear of telling her protective twin about you. Thinking back at how obvious you two were, she was sure that Pietro knew. To be fair, anyone could notice the way you looked at each other.

You tried to pull away, but Wanda didn't allow it. A sigh escaped your lips, which formed a mischievous smile.

"Behave yourself, Wanda." You warned softly, but she raised her hand to your cheek, the touch surprising you a little. Your curious expression didn't intimidate her.

"Where are you?" She questioned and curiosity gave way to confusion.

"Here, dorogoya, what do you mean-" But green irises turned red, and the confusion vanished once your eyes reflected her magic as well. Your shoulders tensed, and you sighed as if you were tired.

You tried to pull away and this time, Wanda allowed you to. Your hands reached for a cloth, and the flour from her favorite pastry that you had prepared for her in that memory was leisurely wiped from your skin.

When you sighed again, more calmly you were leaning on the counter, with your arms crossed and your gaze distant.

"That's different." That was the first thing you said, with a small smile at the corner of your lips. Wanda swallowed, pushing her emotions down. She looked in the same direction as you next. "The sofa was dark blue, not brown."

"Some things..." She cleared her throat, trying to hide the urge to cry. "We remember it differently. Some things, they're just... different."

You hum thoughtfully, shrugging. "Yeah, like ourselves."

Wanda fiddles with her fingers. "Y/N..."

"I wasn't afraid to tell Pietro." You cut her off with no emotion in your voice, but seriousness in your gaze. "You were. I was always ready to shout out to the world that I loved you, but you were terrified of his reaction. Why did you change that?"

"I didn't." Wanda fights back immediately, defensive. You look away with a dry laugh, and she sighs. "I didn't do it on purpose. I... It's only been a long time, Y/N. It's hard to remember exactly what it was like."

"I heard that grief changes things." You retort more softly, and Wanda is sure she's going to start crying. She hugs her own body, and you sigh. "When..."

"No." She cuts you off, her voice breaking. "Why can't you just give me this day? This memory? Just... stay here. Let me live it again." She practically begs, but you don’t flinch, stepping away for the kitchen counter to move closer.

Your hands hold her arms, and your gaze makes something in her spark.

"Don't you think you deserve more than a fantasy, Wanda?"

She chuckles tearfully because this has to be a joke.

"And what choice do I have?" she retorts, tears running down her cheeks. Wanda doesn't have the opportunity to wipe them away, you do so almost immediately. Your instinct is as quick as hers to lean into your touch. "God, there isn't... a day that I haven't missed this. Us."

You smile tenderly at her confession, and Wanda closes her eyes for a moment. She’s just enjoying the feeling while you wait. It takes another sigh for her to ask: "Where are you?"

Being asked again doesn't surprise you. You caress her cheek, and your other hand entwines around her waist.

"It doesn't matter."

She sighs impatiently. "Of course, it matters!" She insists. "I want-I need to see you." She corrects herself and you frown slightly. Wanda lets her hands grasp the collar of your blouse, and her red eyes are almost desperate in yours. "Tell me. Please. Where-"

You kiss her, hard enough for the protest to turn into a needy moan. The hand around her entwines her completely to lift her onto the counter, and Wanda melts. She kisses you as she manages, almost overwhelmed by the longing she has felt over the last few days for the sensation of your lips again.

When you part, she's tingly all over, but your hands don't go beyond her clothes. Your affected breath hits her cheek before you look at her again.

"I remembered."

Wanda almost breaks down in a sob but she manages to keep her emotions around her border. With a sniffle, she guides pleading eyes to yours. Her legs tighten around your waist as if she fears your escape.

"Please stay with me." It comes in a whisper.

You chuckle and Wanda can feel her cheeks burning, her heart breaking. She fears your answer more than she's ever feared anything else in her life.

"You don't understand, Wanda." That's what you say, pulling away and grabbing her hands. Before she can despair, imagining that you were pushing her away, your hands entwined with hers, your eyes tender and intense. "Tell me what you remember."

She looks at you with confusion before denying it with her head. "I don't like... thinking about that day."

"I know, but I need to talk about it." You say, kissing her hands for a moment. "I'm not a memory, Wanda. I'm here. I really am here."

But she shakes her head, her shoulders tensing and her breathing going out of rhythm. "My mind is playing tricks on me... First you, and now Pietro. None of it makes sense. The only thing I know is that I don't want to lose you again. Please don't leave me again."

She doesn't even realize she's started crying. You hug her, trying to calm her down with pats on her back as she wets her shirt.

Wanda clings to you as if you're going to disappear, but you stay there until the tears dry.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise." You whisper. "Never again, Wanda. I can't change what happened to Pietro, but I'm staying. Screw the consequences, I'll never leave you alone again."

She looks at you with confusion, wiping her wet face with the hem of her blouse. " What consequences- what you talking about?"

But you smile, kissing her cheek quickly. "It's time to wake up, my love. Meet me when you're ready to leave. I'm waiting outside for you."

Wanda tries to grab you by the blouse, but she wakes up in a jolt. Vision complains low in bed so that she stops making so much noise and Wanda hides her tears in her pillow.

She dares to try to search for your presence around the house, every floor, every room but all there is is Vision and her twins.

Her mind is playing tricks on her. A stupid dream just to try to break the perfect life she has now.

She goes back to sleep and makes sure that she won’t dream of anything else.

-&-

It's not the ideal place or your favorite setting, nor does it have the best food, but the dinner is the closest outside the Hex that you could find, so it's enough.

The back table becomes the mystery traveler's spot (that's how you hear the waitress and some truck drivers refer to you) for the next few days.

It takes almost two for Agatha to show up.

"You're late, witch." That's how you greet her, outside in the parking lot. The cigarette is hanging unlit from your lips, and Agatha snatches it from your mouth before you have a chance to light it. Your relaxed posture breaks, and she hits you over the head with a slap.

"Insolent child! Irresponsible! Arrogant-" You let her hit three more, they don't hurt, and it's good for her anger. The next time she's about to swear at you for something else, you hit her first.

"Get a grip, you grumpy old woman." You snap. " Don't cause a scene, huh?"

Agatha raises a finger in warning, her eyes blazing with fury before she walks away with an annoyed grunt.

"You're unbelievable." She retorts, taking up your personal space again. She pulls a box of cigarettes out of your leather jacket pocket and takes one for herself. You roll your eyes but watch her light one, and blow the smoke away. Agatha keeps muttering to herself “Challeging a direct order; what will the council say? In the worst scenario, they will know I helped you and I’m done. This little shit…”

You adjust your posture to lean on one of the parking lot irons, your hands in your jacket pockets. You pull the witch out of her complaints with a question:

"What's the matter with you anyway?"

Agatha chuckles dryly, the cigarette between her fingers. "Your girlfriend."

Your posture doesn't change, but the glint in your eyes is almost sinister. "Watch your next words carefully, Miss Harkness."

It's her turn to laugh dryly and take another drag before turning her face toward you. "What is with little show you put on anyway? Standing guard outside, waiting for Rapunzel to leave her tower?" Her teasing only makes you chuckle. Agatha sighs impatiently. "You laugh now, but the whole place is surrounded. If that crazy witch ends up getting shot, I won't sell you any spells to fix it."

You roll your eyes, snatching the cigarette from her fingers. "Stop talking shit, Agatha." You retort. "There are no agents inside, I kept my part of the deal. Now, if the whole thing's still on, it's you who's not doing yours."

Agatha clenches her jaw, looking at you angrily. You just flick the cigarette, and she rolls her eyes.

"I've had unforeseen difficulties."

"Right." You laugh. "You're getting soft, that's for sure."

The cigarette flies out of your hand with her hard slap. You snort in annoyance, but Agatha is busy pulling something out of her purple suit, back now that she's out of the Hex. It's an old piece of paper that she presses hard against your hand.

"Do as written, it will be irrevocable. He'll be forced to show up." She guides between her teeth. "I doubt Mephisto will explain, but just getting his presence should do some good. And don't talk about me. I still need a big job to get back on his good side."

There's something like gratitude in your gaze, and Agatha waves you away, turning her attention to the barrier not invisible to magical eyes a few meters from dinner while you tuck the paper safely away in your pocket.

"I'm going to end all this crap today, Y/N." She declares, and you look up immediately. "Are you sure you won't-"

"No." You cut in, forcing a smile. "I'd just be getting in the way. Either side, I suppose. Wanda thinks I died, and well, I have no idea how to break the whole story to her. 'Hey baby, you thought I died but I kind of sold my soul to keep you and your brother alive. When that didn't work out for him, I ran away for fear of fucking up your life too, but whatever your magic rank, it's high enough to summon one of Mephisto's riders against his will. Any chance you would want to date me again?'”

Agatha laughs softly at the statement, shaking her head. "Don't forget the part where you're helping a witch take down her little fantasy town."

You grunt slightly. "In gratitude for my memories, only. You're a tricky merchant, Miss Harkness."

The woman chuckles, shrugging. Before she can walk away, you clear your throat and Agatha looks at you curiously. "Anything else?"

"Our arrangement, don't forget." You retort. "You won't do anything against her, or the boys."

Just to torment you, she raises an eyebrow. "No request for her husband's safety?"

You snort, rolling your eyes. "He's already dead." You grumble, and Agatha laughs darkly.

"Until recently, you were too."

"I wasn't really!" You retort indignantly, but Agatha is already turning and waving goodbye.

Alone in the parking lot, you feel the weight of the summoning spell in your pocket. Your boss would have to listen to you at some point.

-&-

Being betrayed by what seemed to be her only real friend for some time felt like a punishment.

Well, maybe it was karma. For what she was doing to Vis, and by God, to all those people trapped and subjugated to her wills, fears, and desires. But Wanda wasn't to blame, or at least, she wasn't ready to take on any of it. There was only emptiness at first, and then there was contentment. Crude and meager, but there. Her peace was as superficial as the magical fantasy surrounding her, and it didn't take long for the fear to creep back in; until finally, she was confronted with the reality of what she and her brother had never been able to accept in their youth: there is no magic formula to fix things. Just as Hydra didn't save Sokovia and cost her her twin, her magic didn't fix her grief but made it even worse.

Wanda would have to say goodbye to her children, and for this kind of pain, she had never been prepared.

Agatha seemed to take some amusement from her agony; a lot of ironic jokes as she searched through her memories. But even centuries of experience didn't rid the witch of her innate arrogance, and just as the Black Widow had once taught her, Wanda saw the opportunity to exploit her opponent's weakness.

The victory was not that satisfying, even if Wanda felt more powerful than ever.

And Agatha, in a last desperate act, said the name of the one person who would make Wanda hesitate.

With her fingers still in the air, the redhead narrowed her eyes at the witch lying on the ground, powerless and frightened.

"I know you're bluffing."

"I swear I’m not!" Agatha assured hurriedly. "I'll take you to her. I can-"

"She was one of your tricks, then? It's as cheap and cruel as using my brother, Agatha." Cut the redhead off coldly, but the witch held up her hand, asking for time.

"Wanda, by the wizard oath." She insisted, letting out a laugh exhausted by the effort of the fight. "She was one of your tricks, not mine. You summoned her to this place."

Wanda nodded, sniffling a little. "Stop lying! I know she's dead."

Agatha shook her head. "She's not! Let me go, I promise I'll take you to her."

Wanda hesitated, in her gaze, in her posture, in her heart. Agatha continued to insist, and she looked back at her family waiting for her and all those agents around.

She turned to Agatha, who fell silent when her hand was raised again.

"I'll say goodbye first. And I swear if I find that you’re trying to trick me again-"

"I know." Agatha cut in, forcing a smile. "I promise."

That seemed true enough to Wanda, and Agatha's determined look convinced her. She sighed and nodded, then turned away to hug her children, who were already running towards her. A mask of happiness, despite the heartbreak, stamped her face.

When it was all over, Wanda was physically and emotionally exhausted. She said goodbye to Agent Monica too, realizing bitterly that perhaps that woman was the only real friend she had made since Natasha and that she would have to lose her now too.

And as she crossed the city limits, she assumed that Agatha had taken the opportunity to escape, and came to the conclusion that she didn't care about that at all. Something inside her broke the minute she had to put her children to bed for the last time. No silly rivalry could really bother her.

"Look alive, Maximoff." The joke was unwelcome, but Agatha didn't mind. Nor did she get out of the parked vehicle.

"Have you ever heard of magic portals? Or, I don't know, flying?" Wanda asked as soon as she noticed the witch waiting for her from inside the car parked outside the city. Wanda didn't understand how the witch had kept the SWORD agents away from that edge, but her mind was elsewhere to ask.

The older woman chuckled at the question, adjusting herself to lean her arms on the window and look at Wanda. "Did I mention I like the new look? Did I leave the oven on or is that heat coming from you, hot stuff?"

Wanda chuckled with more indignation than anything. When she was close enough, she sighed. "Just do what you agreed to do."

Agatha smiled mischievously. "Well, you're the one with your back to the show." She retorted, pointing at something behind her.

When she turned, she saw two figures, too far away to be identified. The sunlight didn't help either. The people had been talking for some time and it didn't seem to be a peaceful discussion.

"Who...?"

"Who do you think?" Agatha interrupted somewhat ironically. Wanda's heart leaped, and her stomach did a complete flip. It couldn't be you, could it?

"B-but she... she was-"

"Yeah, the confusing world we live in." Mocked the witch in the car seat. "She wanted to explain everything to you but she has been a pain in the ass so I'll do it. Your friend made a deal with the devil, in the literal sense of the expression. Whatever Hydra did to her, it almost killed her. Mephisto, being the good opportunist he is, offered her a deal and perhaps because she had two people to protect and a hole in her chest, she accepted without reading the terms." Agatha smiled at her own narration, while Wanda continued in shock, being able to imagine the whole story. "And of course, like any deal with the devil, nothing goes according to plan. Mephisto must have known that the boy would die in battle, so he lied to get your friend's soul. She chickened out, by the way, after she heard about her brother. She thought the same would happen to you if she got close, of course at the time neither of you must have known your true power and authority..."

"Authority?" She interrupted hoarsely, getting a laugh from the other witch.

"By Hecate, young witches these days don't know anything," muttered the woman. "As I said before, Wanda, you are the Scarlet Witch. You're the greatest magical authority on earth. And the fact that you don't know this is exactly why I'm needed." Agatha explains. "You need a magical tutor, Miss Maximoff. Someone to train you, and explain important things, like your magical power to break a contract of souls and summon one of Mephisto's ghost riders as you please."

After everything that had happened, absorbing and accepting the madness of this whole story seemed like just one more little push for Wanda to collapse.

Lucky for her, she wasn't alone this time.

You finally started walking towards her, until the figures became clearer, and without needing to ask, Wanda was sure that the man with a skull pipe walking next to you was Mephisto.

Everything about his posture was intimidating, and the air seemed much heavier and darker once he was close enough. But Wanda didn't mind the audience, she threw herself into your arms and was greeted in an equally enthusiastic embrace.

Mephisto waved to Agatha from the car, letting the two of you have a moment of reunion as he commented quietly to the older witch:

"I send you to collect an undeserving one and you not only fail, but you make me lose my best rider."

Agatha swallows dryly, annoyed by the scolding. But if there's anything she feels besides fear, it's pride. And that's something she and the man share, and Agatha knows it very well.

"No creature, not even the Lord of Hell, has power against the Scarlet Witch. The humiliation of losing is strong, but you get used to it." She teases, and Mephisto loses his temper, punching the car hard and trying to grab Agatha by the neck.

A scarlet tug pushes him away.

"You filthy hag, how dare you-"

"Watch your temper, Big M." You interrupt with a serious expression, despite the provocative nickname. You gently put Wanda down, who until now had been lifeted in your arms, but you continue with a hand around her waist.

The man huffs angrily, but visibly struggles to contain his anger, while Agatha hides a little smile and Wanda tries to gain confidence in her new title and the respect that comes with it.

When Mephisto addresses her, he is much more submissive than anyone would expect after the scene.

"My Queen, please, there has been an agreement. With both of the present, this treacherous witch owes me favors and the rider owes me her life. It's not fair that I go unpaid. If I'm not compensated, I'll obviously have to withdraw the loans..." He speaks but Wanda raises a hand in the air, interrupting him.

"I think I understand what you mean. You saved my friend, and if she doesn't serve you, she dies?"

"Yes, my lady."

You tried to protest, but Wanda put a hand on your shoulder and looked at you quickly: in her eyes was the simple request that you let her handle this.

Agatha didn't interrupt either, nor did she react when Wanda approached Mephisto.

"I've been told that the title of Scarlet Witch makes me the highest magical authority." She begins, and somewhat begrudgingly, the man nods in agreement. Wanda sighs. "I don't understand this power entirely, but I will. What I do understand now is that if I am the authority, you must obey me."

"My lady-"

"I am not done talking." Mephisto bites his tongue, but doesn't risk challenging the red irises again. "Let's make a few things clear, sir. These two don't belong to you, I do not care about the debt. I don't know how to settle it yet, but I will. So for now, you should know that they're off-limits. Agatha will be my tutor, and any extra activity must come with a guarantee that she'll return to lessons in one piece, and as for Y/N, well..." Wanda takes a step forward, a dry laugh escaping her. "She's mine, do you understand? You're not going to harm her in any way. Not ever. You've kept her away from me long enough, toying with her perception of the truth. Of that, I think we both understand well."

Mephisto clenched his jaw, seeming to fight the urge to end you right then and there. You exchanged a proud glance with Agatha at the witch's posture in front of you.

"This will be my only warning, Mephisto. I'm taking her with me, and it's better that she keeps breathing after we leave."

Irritated but restrained, he retorts: "A rider must serve, my lady, and I don't say that to contradict you. Even if she doesn't obey me, she won't be able to ignore the call. Her soul only stays in this body because of its usefulness."

"We'll deal with it without your intervention in the matter, don't worry." Wanda assures him. "And as for your payment, I still don't fully understand how this realm works, but I'll learn with the help of Agatha and the Darkhold. I believe the Lord of Hell can wait."

To Wanda's surprise, he grew friendlier, with a smile full of evil intentions. Without her realizing why the mention of the book made him so excited, Mephisto bowed again briefly. "I see a promising future for our professional relationship, Scarlet Witch."

He adjusts his hat as a sign of farewell, and it's as if the sun changes direction only for rays to obscure her vision for a moment. Just long enough for Mephisto to disappear.

"He's always rude, don't take it to heart."

The older witch commented, but neither you nor Wanda were paying much attention to her. Wanda came back to you, wrapping you in a tight hug as a confirmation that things were really happening. And as you held her, you exchanged a quick glance with the witch in the car, a grateful one, and all Agatha did was offer the first sincere smile of the day before breaking the moment with a loud honk.

"I'm sorry, but your girlfriend is a fugitive, and flirting in the middle of the street isn't really appropriate for this moment." Mocked the witch, remembering the dozens of federal agents in the area all too willing to ask Wanda for a statement. It wasn't really a problem - but it was a nuisance.

Your girlfriend ignored Agatha's warning to kiss you on the mouth. It almost takes you by surprise, the intensity, but you manage to match it until the older witch honks again and you and Wanda break into a shared giggle.

"Don't worry, we'll have time." You meekly assure her, kissing her cheek before pulling away to open the car door. Wanda doesn't seem too keen to let you go - not that you'd want anything different - so you follow her into the back seat. Even under Agatha's warnings about behaving or she'd throw the car off the first bridge.

Once on the road, the witch met your gaze through the rearview mirror.

"My place or yours?"

You sigh. "Mine's fine."

-&-

The first fight happens as soon as Wanda finds out that for years, you've lived nearby.

So many days when she could have taken a different route from Avengers Tower downtown to the Compound and bumped into you.

Of course, you assured her that you kept a safe distance and that New York was full and big enough for that, but the justifications only made it worse.

And Wanda started crying and locked herself in the first room she found on the way.

You tried to look at Agatha on the sofa - very much comfortable in other people's homes, by the way - but the witch shrugged as she used her magic to bring food from your kitchen to where she was.

With a sigh, you leaned your forehead against the door.

"Wanda, I'm so sorry I left you alone. I swear to God, I lost count of how many times I wanted to break into that tower and just say that I was with you. But I couldn't. I went to the memorial, to visit Pietro. I saw the news about the fight. I saw him die, and I kept seeing it, every time I closed my eyes. And my nightmares replaced him with you. I was sure that if I got close, you'd get hurt, and I'd rather live away from you than lose you." You confessed with emotion, knowing that she was listening even if she didn't answer now. With another sigh, you continued. "I kept my distance, but I never left. I went to all your public events, I even sent you gifts as an anonymous fan. I almost risked everything so many times. And when your friends got into fights and you disappeared to the Raft, I lost my mind. That's when... he made me forget you. It was the only way I could keep doing the jobs and not go after you. But I still lived here, and there was this lack in my chest and I had no idea what it was. Then one day I heard your voice, like a whisper in my heart, and I followed it. I ended up in Westview, and the lack was gone. It was Agatha who gave me back my memories, and we ended up here. With me trying to make you understand that there hasn't been a day since we were separated that I haven't missed you, that I haven't loved you. Please, Wanda. Forgive me."

It takes a long moment, almost long enough for you to think about letting her have more time to think about it, for Wanda to open the door.

She hugs you by the neck, very tightly, and you waste no time in reciprocating.

"Agatha has to leave." That's what she says as she releases you, making you assume a confused expression. You're ready to recall that the witch, despite her mistakes, helped you when Wanda pulled at the edges of your shirt while hiding her face in your collarbone. The way she speaks again makes you understand. "We've lost a lot of time, my love. She needs to go, so we can make up for it."

You nod foolishly, glancing quickly at Agatha who is already getting up without abandoning a bottle of your most expensive drinks that she opened without permission. Not that you're paying attention to anything other than the woman clinging to you.

"You two are disgusting, I'm out." Complains the older witch, practically running out the door as Wanda kisses your neck again and you sigh.

The door had barely closed and Wanda had already pulled your face back to hers, meeting your mouth in an intense, passionate kiss that almost made you lose your bearings.

Your hands wandered across her cheeks in a foolish attempt to gain some control of the kiss, then towards her hair and down her arms to her waist, squeezing and earning a satisfied sigh in return. Wanda's hands were busy undoing your clothes, bursting buttons, and finally throwing your belt aside.

Your blouse ended up somewhere in the room after you kicked your shoes away and while using the interruption and distance necessary to undress, Wanda spoke again.

"All this time you've been keeping watch... tell me, how far have you gone?" she asked between kisses, leading the way to the sofa as she pulled you up by the straps of the barely hanging pants on your hips.

You fought your own arousal to reply: "Hm, never very close. Except, once..." You try to count between kisses, almost losing your train of thought when Wanda pushes you sit up and looks so stunning with her flushed face and out-of-rhythm breathing standing in front of you. "On your birthday. I went to your window, and I just... watched you sleep."

Wanda let out a curious giggle. "Do you fly now?"

"Not really, it's something called astral projection, I'm sure Agatha will teach you." You mumble quickly, and it's your turn to tug at the straps of her jeans. "Can we talk later? U-unless of course, you don't want to do this anymore, because then I'll need a minute to stop shaking and then I can tell you everything-" She interrupts you with a determined kiss, taking the opportunity to sit on your lap too.

With another sigh, she assures you, "We'll talk later." Those are the last firm words of the evening, really. After that, all that leaves Wanda are begging moans and whimpers of pleasure calling out your name.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

-&-

It's a simple routine, within the normal range of living with two witches and having your soul in imprisonment with the Lord of Hell at least.

Agatha becomes a tutor - it suits her, even if she is grumpy and mean and doesn't have much patience for teaching magic. She ends up doing a good job, and in a few months, Wanda already has the same knowledge that a witch who has spent half her life in a coven would have.

As well as classes with the grumpiest teacher on the planet, Wanda has the Darkhold. You don't see her use it that much, because she always chooses the times of your rider duties to study. That, and well, that book gives you a very bad feeling. But Wanda always makes sure that everything is under control and kisses you until you forget about it.

Of course, over time, people tend to waver in their lies and perhaps because it's a Rider's business to feel dark magic, you end up discovering exactly how bad the Darkhold is for your girlfriend.

Or maybe the black fingers gave you a hint.

"It's not too much to ask that you be careful!" You were arguing - no, discussing - Wanda's intense study routine with a book that apparently condemned all readers. "Actually, it's quite reasonable for me to worry-"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you!" She interrupts you. Even though she is now twice the age you first met her, Wanda Maximoff is still as beautiful as the first day you saw her. And just as stubborn as the angry teenager she once was. "Do you want to talk about being reasonable? Do you think you made a good decision when you decided to sell your soul, or when you believed you could stay away for ten years and act as if it didn't affect our relationship?"

You hesitate. "I-I... you said you forgave me."

But Wanda snaps back: "Forgiving isn't forgetting! And why do you think I'm doing all this? I have to learn to control my magic, and I have to learn to be the Scarlet Witch. But most importantly, I have to learn to undo a deal with the devil because at some point you thought it was a good idea to be the Dark Lord's little slave!"

"I did it for you!"

"I know you did!"

"Then why are you angry?"

"Because I love you, you idiot!" she retorts breathlessly. "I love you and I hate how stupidly loyal and impulsive you were to do something like that. And I hate the pain we were forced to endure, and I hate that we wasted so much time."

"Wanda, I-"

"I know." She interrupts with a sigh. "I love you too."

You smile. "Stop reading my mind."

She returns the same smile. "There's not much to read." She teases, wasting no time in bringing her hands to your shoulders when you take her by the waist. You chuckle with a false offense.

"Wow, I'd forgotten how evil you can be." You retort in the same playful tone, nipping at her jaw and lowering your mouth to her collarbone.

Wanda sighs, hugging you for a moment. In the bedroom mirror by the wall, she can see her true reflection and all the Darkhold's influence on her hidden appearance. She blinks away from the demonic appearance to focus on the person holding her so dearly.

"You have no idea, my love." She whispers, forcing a smile when you look at her again. "I just want to keep us safe. Nothing and no one will ever break us apart again. I'll make sure of that."

You don't want to worry, or at least, you don't want Wanda to notice your hesitation about the frightening determination in her eyes. So all you do is kiss her forehead and hold her close.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #as it was

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