Trigger warnings: Non-consent, blackmail, revenge porn, dubious consent, high school bullying, humiliation, degradation, and a forced D/s dynamic.

Note: This story, including all names and people, is entirely fictional and not based on any real life experiences or events.

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Now

Poppy, age 26

I’ve had breakups before. I’ve bought tubs of ice cream and watched sad movies for weeks straight to cope. It’s not like breaking it off with a guy is anything new to me.

What is new is…this.

I feel so fucking empty. I haven’t shed a single tear since Cole left my apartment two weeks ago, and yes, I know how that sounds. I shouldn’t shed a tear for him. I should cry for myself, for how I was treated and what it did to me.

But I can’t even do that.

I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but I got used to it. Our weird arrangement just became another part of my life. Grading tests, hanging out with Ava, being fucked by Cole. It all just became part of what my life was, and I didn’t even mind it most of the time. And some of the time, eventually most of the time…I fucking loved it.

At some point, he went from just coming inside me to making sure I came too. It started in the bathroom at the work conference when he just did it to make me feel better, but ever since then, it became harder and harder to see any ulterior motives when he would make me come. It felt like he wanted to make me come, like he wanted to make this whole mess enjoyable for me.

But just like with when he defended me at the work conference and when he told me about his sister, I convinced myself it was all for him. But it clearly wasn’t. With his confession about deleting the video, my understanding of our entire “relationship” has been thrown for a loop.

What he did was horrible. It was one of the worst things you can do to a person. But despite that, I can’t help but sympathise with him to an extent. I don’t think I can forgive what he did, but I can understand it, even if it made my life hell for a few months.

Or, well, did it? The video was a constant concern, and I always worried I was one wrong move away from him just saying fuck it and posting it. But other than that, it was mostly fine. There were moments I could convince myself things were normal, where I forgot the only thing linking us was the damn video. And even though those moments were fleeting, they made this more bearable, like pockets of air in an underwater cave.

But now, that link has been severed. I’m free, but is this what freedom is supposed to feel like? Like there’s a big hole in my chest and all I can do is lay on my bed in the dark?

It’s a miracle I’ve been able to go to work every day, honestly. My students probably think a long-term boyfriend broke up with me, which isn’t entirely wrong. But I’ve been trying my best to not look like a mess in front of them, with limited success.

It’s Saturday now, and I’m giving myself two more days to sulk and feel sorry for myself before I need to snap out of it. I shouldn’t feel sad that I’m free. I’m sick in the head but telling myself that over and over again for two weeks hasn’t done shit, so a deadline is the best I can do.

I sigh, spreading my limbs further on the bed. I’m sprawled across it, staring at the ceiling in the dark. I’m completely naked, which sucks because it’s cold, but feeling cold is better than feeling empty.

Another few hours pass before my growling stomach demands attention, and I drag my limbs out of bed. I throw on a pair of panties and a t-shirt and call it a day. On my way out, I check the time on my phone and see it’s 3 AM. Oh, well.

After eating a shitty frozen pizza, I return to bed, staring at the ceiling again until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.

A week later, and I’m still sulking and feeling sorry for myself.

I thought I’d snap out of it by now, but my stupid fucking heart is still in pieces. There’s clearly something seriously wrong with me, because I miss Cole.

I hate him, and I miss him so fucking much.

The only silver lining is that Brendan has stopped contacting me. I guess having his jaw broken was a sign that he should leave me alone, which I have Cole to thank for.

The thought brings a tear to my eye.

Ava and Daya tried to stage an intervention a few days ago, but they would’ve had to tie me down for me to go through that. I know I probably needed an intervention, but I don’t care. I love my friends, but god damn, they need to care about me a little less right now.

After work on Friday, I snap. I don’t know what it was. Whether it was Brad asking me out again or if it was the concerned expressions on my students’ faces. But before I can change my mind, I’m driving to Cole’s place.

I’d like to say I’m in a haze, driving to his place, but I’m not. I know what I’m doing, and I’m aware of every turn and every inch I get closer to his apartment building.

But it’s only when I knock on the door that I realise I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing here. I don’t know what I’m going to say or if I should run, but before I can decide, the door swings open.

Cole stands there, dressed in only sweatpants and…well, nothing else. His broad chest stares straight at me, and when my eyes move up and up to his confused face, I finally manage a muttered, “Hi.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, his eyes still adjusting to seeing me in person. “Poppy?” he eventually says. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I agree. I definitely shouldn’t. But here we are.

“Can we talk?” I ask, figuring that’s a better place to start than any.

He stares at me for a moment, and I worry he’s going to shut the door in my face, but then he just backs into his apartment, holding the door open for me.

I hesitantly walk through the doorway, and as I gently place my purse on the floor, Cole asks, “What are you doing here?”

I look up at him. His eyes are so beautiful it’s overwhelming. Such a deep, green colour I could get lost in them if I stare too long, which I definitely am right now.

“I don’t know,” I eventually say, dropping my gaze to his chest, which is still distracting.

“Poppy…” he whispers on a sigh. “I told you. You’re free. You shouldn’t–“ He takes a breath. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you an apology,” I retort.

“You already gave me one weeks ago, one I’m very thankful for.” He brings his arms to my shoulders, gripping me tight and looking straight into my eyes. “What’s this about, Poppy?”

Tears well in my eyes, and I break my gaze from his, looking at the floor. His hand comes to my chin, tilting it up and up, forcing me to look at him. He gives a soft, hesitant smile, urging me on. “I think–“ I take a breath when my voice quivers, steeling myself so when I say what I say next, it comes out clean and confident. “I love you, Cole.”

He doesn’t look surprised, which probably just means I look crazy right now. “You don’t mean that,” he says. “You can’t.”

I shake my head. “I can. I don’t know when–“

“No, Poppy. You’ve trauma bonded to me. I get it, I really do, but please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean it. I’ve had weeks to think about–“

“Poppy.”

“–it and I know how this sounds. I do, but–“

“Stop. You’re not thinking stra–“

“Listen to me!” I snap, shaking myself out of his hold. He flinches, but I don’t stop talking. “Listen to me, you big stupid idiot. You told me that this began as one thing and turned into another, so why the fuck can’t the same have happened to me? You thought I was a monster, and I thought the same of you. But then you realised I’m not, so why are you denying me my own realisation that you, Cole Beckett, are not a damn monster!?”

His lips thin, like he wants to say something but is keeping quiet.

“Cole…I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, and I don’t know what the fuck we are to each other anymore. But I know that you’re a good man, and I hate you for that. I hate you so much for being so difficult to hate, and I hate you even more for making me love you.

“You grew to care about me, and I grew to care about you just the same. The video is…well, it’s not great, is it?” His lips tip up into a small, sad smile. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.” I grip his arms. “Cole, you didn’t have to show me an ounce of kindness, yet you did. You didn’t have to serve me dinner or wear that stupid apron. You didn’t have to defend me when your coworker was being a dick and you didn’t have to get Brendan to leave me alone. And you didn’t have to delete the video. Yet you did.

“I don’t believe you’re a monster, and I know I’m a fucking idiot for that. But I don’t care. As long as I get to keep you, however that looks like, I don’t really give a shit how insane that makes me seem.”

There’s a long, tense silence between us for a while. Cole looks dumbstruck, and I can’t exactly blame him. It’s not every day the girl you blackmailed confesses her love for you, I suppose.

But then, after a minute, he reaches a tentative hand up to my hair. He rubs a strand of it between his fingers for a while, then gently tucks it behind my ear. His hand lingers, eventually trailing down to my neck. His fingers wrap around the back of my neck, gripping tight and tilting my head up.

“Poppy…” he mutters, sounding lost and conflicted. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip, and my eyes catch the motion. When I see his gaze lingering on mine, I give a subtle nod, and that’s all it takes.

He leans down and fuses his lips to mine. A desperate groan escapes us both at the feel, at the touch of our mouths against each other. His soft lips part, allowing me access into his mouth, and our tongues swirl around each other with desperate need.

My hands go to his bare chest, and I cling to him, my fingers curling around his thick shoulders. I pull him closer, deepening the kiss, and Cole, having the same idea, wraps his hands around my waist. His hands are so big they almost entirely encircle me, and I feel so fucking safe in his grip it nearly brings me to tears.

A needy moan rumbles from my throat when he pulls me so close my breasts brush against his chest. I can feel him hardening against my abdomen, and I can’t help but trail my hands down and down until I get to the waistband of his sweats.

“Fuck, Poppy,” Cole groans, breaking our kiss. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want it,” I say, honestly. Aside from that first night at the party, we’ve never truly had consensual sex. I’ve often wanted it, I’ve often looked forward to him taking me. But I’ve never done it without fear of what happens if I say no looming over my head. “Please,” I whisper, needy and desperate.

He mutters a curse, his face softening. But before I can pull his waistband down, he grabs my legs and pulls me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carries me into his bedroom, laying me down on the bed and kissing me, hard.

We only break the kiss to allow me to take my top off, then my pants, and his pants follow right behind. We practically rip each other’s underwear off, leaving us both bare for each other, and the feel his hard, warm skin against mine feels divine.

His thick length pulses against my wet core, but when I try to angle us so I can put him inside me, he pulls away, a wicked grin grazing his handsome face. “Not so fast, baby,” he says.

“Cole, please,” I beg, making a groan escape him. His face comes closer to mine, his lips less than an inch from mine. “I need you,” I whimper, trying to wrap my limbs around him to pull him closer.

He doesn’t budge, keeping himself just far enough from me so we don’t touch. “I’m going to take my time with this,” he says. “I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this, and I’m going to take my time worshipping you and your beautiful body.”

It really does feel like our first time, and like we’ve waited eight years for this. But maybe it should count as our first time after all. There are no barriers or lies between us anymore. Nothing is forcing us to be here.

We both want this, and we both want to do it right.

I can’t keep from touching him, but I stop when he growls in warning. “Poppy,” he says firmly. “Keep those hands to yourself.”

“I can’t. I need you,” I repeat.

Cole leans off the bed to our discarded clothes, and I frown in confusion, but then he returns with my own belt in his fists.

I try to resist, but I’m not really trying, so when he grabs my wrists, I let him tie the belt around them. I test the restraints, finding them firm, and he pulls my hands up to the headboard. I keep them there while he grabs a coil of rope from his nightstand and ties them around the headboard.

I whimper, feeling so exposed for him yet so, so turned on. I’ve always loved being submissive in bed, and to an extent, that’s what I have been for Cole for months. But It feels different now, and having him take his time, exposing my body for him so he can explore it without interruption…fuck, I don’t think I’ve been this wet before.

Cole leans over me, bringing his body close to mine again. He straddles me, allowing his hands to trail down the entire length of my body. They fit so well against the swell of my breasts, the curve of my waist, holding my body in a possessive yet soft grip.

He keeps his hands on my waist as he leans his body over mine, his lips coming down to my nipple. I whimper when he sucks it into his mouth, licking the stiff peak. “Oh my god,” I moan, arching into his touch in an attempt to get closer to him.

Eventually, he gives my other nipple the same treatment, then releases it with an audible pop. His mouth goes to between my breasts, nipping at my skin, making me moan. He trails kisses, nips, and sucks down my body, all the way until he gets to right above where I need him most.

I spread my legs in silent invitation, and he chuckles. “Eager girl,” he says, then brings his mouth between my thighs.

“Fuck,” I moan, immediately wrapping my legs around his head to keep him close. His tongue explores my entrance, teasing me so fucking good. I grind against his face in a desperate attempt to get more friction, but his forearm comes down onto my abdomen, holding me in place while he feasts at me.

“Poppy,” he groans. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Please, Cole, I need more,” I beg.

He does as I ask and brings my clit into his mouth, sucking it between his lips and making me moan. I arch my back as much as I can beneath his grip, the pleasure overwhelming me.

Cole takes his time with me, only sucking my clit between his lips for a few moments before he releases me. I’m pulling at my bonds so hard I’m sure I’ll bruise, not because I want to be free but because I want to touch him more than I want to breathe.

He licks around my pussy, teasing me again, not indulging my attempts at bringing his mouth back where I want it again. “God,” I mutter. “Cole, please.”

“Beg me again,” he says.

“Please. I can’t take it, Cole. Please make me come, I’ll do anything for it.” I’d feel shame over my desperation if I wasn’t beyond caring.

“Do you want this, Poppy?” he asks, and the seriousness in his voice makes me realise this isn’t just about making me come.

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, and then his mouth closes around my clit again.

He sucks it into his mouth, making me writhe and moan on his bed. It doesn’t take long before he does as I asked, making me come on his face. He licks at me the entire way through, riding the high with me until I come back down with shaking legs, panting.

Cole doesn’t waste much time before he crawls up my body and pokes my entrance with his thick cock. In one swift motion, he fills me completely, and it pushes moans out of both of us.

“Fuck,” I moan. “Kiss me. Please,” I beg, my voice breaking on the desperate plea.

Cole brings his mouth down to my own, and just as he thrusts into me for the first time, his tongue plunges into my mouth.

I’m so overwhelmed. Both with how he’s filling me up, stretching me and fucking me, but also with all my conflicted feelings. Except, I’m not really conflicted anymore.

I might be conflicted about if this is right, if I’m insane for even coming here. It’s probably not normal, but we went beyond normal a while ago. All I know, and all I need to know, is that I want whatever the hell this is, in whatever form I can get it.

And, you know, the way Cole stretches me and kisses me is pretty nice too.

I feel so full, in the best way. Cole’s thrusts are slow and explorative, but also deep and hard. Every time he grazes my clit with his hard body, I get just a little bit closer to another climax.

He hits just the right spot, and I whimper out, “Fuck, just like that.” He knows my body better than anyone, which he demonstrates so well with how he takes me.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, and I can tell he means every word. “You take me so fucking well, like you were made for me.”

It certainly feels like that. Like the past eight years were just leading us both to this moment together. I’m probably in a lust and love filled haze, but I don’t think I’d change a damn thing about this. Not in this moment, anyway, but maybe when I come to again, I’ll freak out over the video again.

But for now, I just clench around him and wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. His thrusts quicken, and his face tells me he’s close. He brings his mouth down to my neck, sucking the skin there between his teeth.

The pleasure it sends through my body is my undoing, and I come for a second time. I spasm and clench around his length, all while he fucks me with quick, hard thrusts. I cry out at the pleasure and the overwhelming sensations gripping at me, He’s still sucking my neck, still thrusting deep, and it doesn’t take long before he comes as well.

He plunges deep as he does, moaning my name and nipping my neck between his teeth. When he comes back down, we’re both breathing heavily, exhausted yet so relieved over everything that’s happened today.

He pulls out, his come dripping out of me, and he leaves to clean himself up. Once he’s back, he unties me, then cleans me up with a soft, wet towel.

There’s still a lot we need to talk about. The mess we’ve ended up in will probably take years to untangle, and I still feel so much hurt over the things he’s done to me. But when he pulls my naked body into his arms, letting me feel very inch of his muscled body…I think I made the right call coming here today.

A few months later

“I wonder when he’s going to propose…”

“Who?” I ask. “Cole?”

“What? No. Jay, obviously.” Ava rolls her eyes.

“Babe, you’ve been official for, like, a few months. Why would he propose now?”

Ava stops walking, looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Because have you seen this?” she says, her hands gesturing to her own body. “He’d be an idiot not getting a ring on me as soon as possible.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, that’s true,” I say, because yeah, she is pretty damn hot.

“But what about Cole, anyway?” Ava asks, and my heart skips a beat.

Even though it’s been a while since I told Ava that Cole and I were officially together, I still get nervous whenever she mentions him. Obviously we didn’t tell her everything, so all she knows is that I used to bully him and that he had sex with me before I knew who he was. Then we told her that after that, we ran into each other several more times until we decided to give a relationship a go.

So, not a complete lie. We just happened to not tell her the reason why we kept running into each other.

But still, it obviously took her some getting used to. We both had (and, honestly, still have) good reason to hate each other, so starting a relationship has always seemed a little crazy to her.

It still seems a little crazy to me, honestly.

“If he’s going to propose?” I ask, and Ava nods. “I fucking hope not. I am not ready for that. I don’t think Cole is either.”

“Girl, he hatefucked you and tricked you into falling in love with him. I don’t think there’s anything he isn’t ready for when it comes to you.”

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “You can’t stop bringing that up, huh?” I swear, she pounds on any opportunity that presents itself to remind me that Cole fucked me to take revenge. I wonder what she’d do with the knowledge that he blackmailed me, honestly.

“Of course not! It’s insane, and I will never let you forget it. When you get married, I’m going to say that in my bridesmaid speech too, I hope you know.”

“Hey, I need to call Daya and ask her to be my bridesmaid for my wedding.”

“Ha. Ha. You know you love me, babe.” She links an arm through mine as we walk the last stretch towards Cole’s apartment.

“I do, Ava,” I say, honestly, because having a friend like Ava is better than being a millionaire, frankly. I wouldn’t trade her for the world.

We hug our goodbyes, and then I make my way up to Cole’s apartment.

I’ve stayed at his place for most nights the past few months, so we basically already live together. We just haven’t made it official yet.

It’s nice, being at his place, especially when he fucks me until I can’t walk later that night.

He has me bent over, my face stuffed into his pillow and my ass high in the air while he has his way with me. Despite the video forcing me into this position many times, I still enjoy being submissive for him, letting him do whatever he wants with me.

Except now, it’s entirely of my own choice, and he’s happy to indulge me.

I moan when he hits just the right spot, bottoming out inside me and making me feel so damn full. “Cole,” I moan, snaking my hand down to my aching clit and rubbing it between my fingers.

“You take me so fucking well, Poppy,” he groans, and I whimper with need and love for him.

“Please, I need to come,” I beg. I can make myself come if I need to but having Cole do it for me is just infinitely better.

“I know, baby.” His thrusts deepen, and my fingers move faster. “Be a good girl and make me come first.”

I clench around him at the demand, and it isn’t long before he plunges deep inside me and comes with a moan. I love the feeling of him coming inside me, it’s how we always do it, and when he pulls out and I feel him dripping out of me, I just get that much more turned on.

He gently removes my hand, then replaces it with his own, bringing me to orgasm. I cry out into the sheets, grinding myself over his hand while he wrings the orgasm from me.

Once we come back down, Cole cleans us up then sticks a tray of lasagna in the oven.

Yes, I know that’s weird, but so are we and our relationship.

It’s just become a comfort food for us at this point. Maybe Cole was right, and I have trauma bonded to him, but I’ve grown tired of caring about that. I don’t think I’ll ever truly get over the blackmailing he did, but I can understand why he did it, regardless. Our relationship started as a big, sloppy mess full of lies and hate, but we’ve gone past that now.

Well, not really, obviously. With a foundation like that, it’s not really possible to have a completely normal relationship, but neither of us really care anymore.

And maybe I should’ve taken my newfound freedom that day months ago and escaped him. A smart girl would’ve done that, anyway. But then I’d miss out on what we do have now, and I couldn’t do that.

Like I said, I don’t think I can ever forget that he blackmailed me like that, at least not for long periods of time. But when he grabs my empty plate of lasagna and leans down to give me a kiss on my forehead, I think I might forget it, just for tonight.

Thank you so, so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed reading this short story as much as I did writing it💜😍 I'm currently working on an abduction short story that I'll start posting soon (-ish), and I really hope you'll stick around for that!💜💜💜