ethan stays quiet for a moment, watching her carefully - every little shift, every pause. the way she froze up said more than words could, and the fact that she even chose to say anything at all… that felt like something. heavy, but real. as she finishes, lifting her shirt to show the scar, his eyes flicker down to it, jaw tightening. it makes his chest go tight in a way he doesn’t know how to explain. anger, maybe. or something more protective than he’s willing to admit. “okay,” he says after a beat, exhaling like he’s trying to shake off the weight in the air. “definitely the weirdest friendship-building exercise i’ve ever heard of. mine usually involve trust falls or like… drinking games.” there’s a soft grin tugging at his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. he lets the silence sit for a second before nudging her again, this time a little more playful - maybe because the truth makes him want to do something, anything. “what if we hunt the guy down, huh? you point me in the right direction, and i’ll bring the baseball bat. or wooden stake. or… i don’t know, holy water. latin guy won’t know what hit him.” it’s a joke, sort of. but the offer underneath isn’t. then, quieter, more serious: “really though. i’m glad you told me. that couldn’t have been easy.” he pauses, softer still. “you didn’t deserve that.”

the scar is covered in an instant, that odd phantom pain within flaring up again and making jackie’s brows push together uncomfortably. “we can do those too, i guess? might help lighten the mood.” honestly, she’d half-expected him to leave once the injury was taken care of and if he had, she wouldn’t have blamed him for the quick exit. he’d gotten out of this mess alive once, but who’s to say that will happen again? “ha. yeah, right.” eyes roll, but it’s not nearly as contemptuous as all the others that came before it. “i don’t even know who he was... and even if i did, i wouldn’t be recruiting you into some bonnie and clyde situation. you throw balls across a field, you’re not a murderer.” it’s baffling that he even offered, whether it was intended as a joke or not. he shouldn’t care about what happened to her in any capacity or even what will happen, not after what she tried to do and all the other people she’s hurt since she changed. ethan is one strange creature to say the least, and his kindness is only rewarded with some more honesty. “i have no idea what i’m doing. half the time, i’m just acting on instinct or... maybe panic. i don’t want to die.” a small huff of breath that almost resembles a laugh. “—again.”

"good to know that you're not sick of it yet. i don't know that i've ever been that rough with you, i almost feel like i should apologize for it." for once, he's sheepish, like he'd accidentally crossed a boundary between them despite her coaxing, her permission. raw, animalistic sex is one he's generally reserved for those he would never see again, people he'll never lock eyes with again. it feels incredibly vulnerable to open up that side of him with the girl that holds his entire heart in her hands. jesper blinks a few times to try and push down that vulnerability once again, cage it up and throw away the key until a river of feelings washes it back onto the banks for him to pick up again. "you really know to make me feel good about myself, you know that? you know what to say and the right time to say it... can't believe i got so lucky. yours do too, by the way — i know some girls are really picky about whether something matches their skin tone or not." the male snickers from beside her, knowing that trying to match foundation is not the same as what transpired here. "oh i'm incredible? is it ego-stroking time already?" wanting to make the most of their aftercare, he lowers his body onto the pillow beside her and reaches for the blanket that was kicked around in the throes of passion to toss over them. a stopgap for now since they still had a bit of cleaning up to do themselves before sliding under the covers. an arm winds around her middle and pulls her towards him, her back to his chest and his face buried in her hair. "thank you. for... i don't know, thinking that — saying that. i know you don't have to."

“it was a first for us, but why would you apologise? i did ask for it… besides, it’s not like you hurt me or anything — not in a bad way at least. i’m a lot tougher than i look, y’know.” though they usually come from a different source, she’s long since become an expert in handling bruises; had quite literally begged him for more and was disappointed in her own twisted way when they came to an end. in este’s mind, there’s zero need for any guilt on his part. she’d wanted it and there’s no doubt she’ll soon want it again. “excuse you, there’s no ego stroking here, beloved. i’m just telling you the truth.” as she often does, for better or worse. in her own defence, it’s getting increasingly difficult not to when one mere glance in jesper’s direction is enough to make the words practically jump off her tongue themselves. “you don’t have to thank me for that, but… you’re welcome.” with the solid warmth of him now at her back, she rests a hand on the arm securely draped over her stomach, lets her fingers absently brush the skin the same way she had back at the diner. the need to always be touching him somehow is too great to ignore. “i know you aren’t great at accepting compliments and believe me, i get that. i never want to make you uncomfortable with them or anything, but i still think you deserve to know how treasured you are. you haven’t heard it nearly as much as you should.”

his mouth carefully plants a kiss at the base of her throat after hearing the subtle strain in her voice, a knowingly fruitless endeavor but hopefully one she still finds rather cute. it's the least he can do to make up for it, even with the permission he so graciously needed to hear. "exactly. however, tattoos are permanent so that means we'll have to keep this up somehow... do you think you're up for that task?" the fading of marks could be a non-traditional little indicator that too much time has passed since the last time, an almost-responsibility of sorts that jesper is happy to take accountability for. when jesper pulls back, his hands leave her briefly to push her legs together mere seconds after he removes himself completely but remains half-propped up to inspect the artwork he'd etched upon her shoulders and neck. "i mean, i'm no van gogh or anything but i think it looks pretty good. what about me?" his neck cranes a bit, tilting his head from side to side. "how do i look? bitchin', i hope. like you really marked your territory?"

“i think i can manage that… not that i really need much of an incentive to do this more often.” though the closer they get to the big day of nationals, the more careful jesper will have to be about precisely where he stakes his claim. one of the main clothing guidelines for skaters is that they must appear ‘modest and dignified’ and something tells her that being covered in bite marks from her boyfriend doesn’t fall under that category. a shame, really. she takes a lot of pride in them and if the sharp sting of their creation was anything to go by, he put a lot of work into these ones. “you somehow look even more handsome than usual. i think they really suit your skin tone.” the little smile on este’s face is a tired one, but no less adoring. his enthusiasm to be the canvas for her possessiveness is a lovely stroke to her ego and in the haze as her heart finally stops hammering wildly against her breastbone, she’s filled with a sudden wave of gratitude for this slowly-forming home she’s shaping with him. “you’re incredible by the way and before you make a joke, no, i’m not just talking about the sex.”

ELIZABETH OLSEN ✧ NPR Podcasts — 2025

it's astonishing, the before and after he experiences with his girlfriend laid in the exact same position as when they started. this time, she's crying out his name like a prayer, hair damp and matted, and her entire body shuddering and arched in the wake of her orgasm... and he drinks in the sight like she's a temple ruined. his own body continues to roll and rock into her at a slower and leisurely pace, easing her floating frame back down to new ground that eventually meets them halfway. in fact, jesper feels himself become softer in the chest this particular time, lacing fingers through her wandering hand and resting them both onto silk sheets. the other follows a similar pattern to free her hip and, with both hands in his, slides them up and over her head. if there was ever a good time to profess the adoration flooding over the edges of his heart, now would be it... but jesper continues to keep the words at bay and uses his mouth for other things instead, planting them back onto her neck to kiss around the abstract, discolored shapes that now slither up the column. "we match now." it's hardly a chuckle, more like jagged, breathy puffs of hot air that ghost over her skin. for the first time in a long time, the guy is entirely spent and he only hopes that she feels the same — a great precursor to a good night's sleep.

she comes down slowly, mind feeling faint and far away as she soaks in the closeness and the anchor of having her hands in his. this is a whole new kind of peace and contentment. there’s not a shred of resistance in her body, merely a dull throbbing from the various marks left along her skin and the hips he’d gripped within an inch of their life. god, she really is tired now, a pleasant burn settling in her muscles that means she should be able to sleep well (and for hours) once they finally crawl beneath the sheets, but she’s happy to hold onto this feeling for a little while longer — the warmth and peace that comes with being held and touched, this feeling of safety and being cared for. “hm, that's cute.” her voice sounds dangerously raw, but obvious fondness still warms the edges. “who needs matching tattoos when we have these, huh?” if nothing else, it was certainly a much more enjoyable experience than este imagines getting an actual tattoo would be. she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of needles. “tell me they look good at least… you think we can pull them off?”

each pulsing thrust feels like lightening to a metal rod, waves of overwhelming shocks shooting towards every sensory node that litters his body. the only thing that seems to soothe the crackling is her vice grip around him, her slickness like a salve that now drips between her thighs, honey from her womb that he breeds in his dreams. heart pounds wildly in his chest and as their bodies are pressed against one another tightly, he fears she can feel the way it threatens to burst from his bosom, the thrumming of it so loud in his ears that her babbling only comes through as muffled sounds. "y-yeah? need to cum?" he manages to draw out, mouth unlatched from her shoulder that is now sheen with his saliva and painted purple and blue beneath. " — 'm gonna make you cum, baby." jesper leans back, prying their bodies apart only to sink his knees deeper into the mattress and grabbing her hips with both hands. and then he really fucks her, hips pistoning in and out of her in a final attempt to get the both of them there. all at once, that surmounting pressure bursts and washes over him in waves, white hot threads spilling inside of her with what feels like no end in sight. "f-fuck, este —"

already half out of her mind with aching euphoria, between the utterly relentless pace he’s set and the quiet dominance in his voice that makes it feel as if the very floor beneath her rumbles from it, it’s little surprise that the kindling spark inside of este suddenly flares up, heat burning at her center that rapidly begins to spread outwards. she can’t think, can barely breathe, everything else fading until her world is nothing but jesper and his touch. that’s the exact thing that finally pushes her over the edge; the heavy pulses of warmth he begins to fill her with at long last slams her orgasm through her with such force that she gasps a ragged, desperate breath in like she’s been underwater for the last minute instead of under him. “holy — fuck.” the blaze of white hot bliss leaves her brokenly crying out his name. her head falls back against the pillow, body clenching tighter around him while the pleasure floods her veins, hot and sweet and perfect. it's a last minute move when her hands slide down until she can reach his own at her waist, greedy for whatever skin she can reach in the moment, hungry for more contact as she finishes coming apart beneath him.

it's no surprise to anyone that he's unable to keep the slow roll of his hips for long, especially when she rolls deliciously up into it as if begging him to travel deeper, reaching the depths of her that he's not explored yet. it does require him to be a bit rougher with her, requires him to nearly break her and god, he wants to. to give into the ravenous hunger that gnaws at his stomach every time his throbbing, veiny length slams into her back walls. each lingering kiss pressed to the nape of her neck amps the intensity of which starts to fuck her with, strong arm sliding between her arched back and his mattress to keep a tight hold around her much smaller frame. to guide her and push her down to his hilt in opposite but equal force to the way he drives himself home, hitting his target every single time with no regard to how forceful it might be, how relentless. "need you so bad, baby. you'll be a good girl and take it right? gonna let daddy fuck you and use your tight little hole?" not that jesper is actively asking for permission. just wants to hear her struggle to get those yesses out in the midst of her crying, jesper far too eager to pound them out of her with his teeth now sunk deep into her shoulder to muffle his own broken groans. "mmm — could cum like this. deep inside you? make you mine?" each syllable hitting her skin in hot, ragged pants.

the tight grip around her middle is the only thing still grounding her in reality. his rhythm never slows, never falters, every brutal thrust forcing the air from este’s lungs until the edges of her vision grow fuzzy and indistinct. her fingers move wildly along sweat-slick skin and muscle, desperate to somehow have his body pressed closer to hers, desperate to have him in every way that matters. “god, yes. want you to ruin me.” hitching out a sharp breath when he repeatedly drives into that spot deep inside her, the pleasure is so sharp, so consuming, that it makes her eyes fall shut of their own accord, a stray tear leaking free from one corner as she chokes out a sob. fuck, she’s so close; desperately needs this band of thick, building pressure inside her to snap, but her mind is too hazy and unfocused to know how to properly ask for it. she ends up cycling through the same few words, the sound of them frantic and nonsensical, need audibly dripping in every inch. even the sheets below them have been dampened with sweat and the wetness he's been dragging free from her. “fuck, 'm gonna cum. need, please, please—” the sounds that leave her are unfiltered and filthy, frame beginning to tremble in his grasp while she grows dizzy with sensation.

good is what jesper manages to autocomplete in his head, bolstered by the way she entirely gives into him. a few of the words that practically croak out of her mouth really scratch an itch for him, fueling several fantasies he's already replayed in his mind over and over while he's in his bed alone at night. but tonight, jesper's goal is to get her there hard and fast, a natural medicine to put her to sleep shortly after. "mmm don't think i can stop —" he groans with a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, practically forcing her mouth open to let out moans he knows only he can conjure from her. after all that's happened tonight, that is something he feels he can safely claim. her fingers are soothing against his scalp, a stark difference to how every other inch of his body stings from sensitivity. his kisses, though no longer pressing into her mouth, remains sloppy as it trails down to her jaw, the pulsing vein running up her throat. his teeth sinks into it in tandem with a slow, nearly halting grind of his hips, the aim to keep her completely full of him. doesn’t think this counts as stopping, per se, just a means of catching their breath and appreciating how needy they are for one another. the eye of the storm as they navigate through deep, lust waters. jesper swipes the sore patch of her skin with the rough of his tongue, only to repeat the action so that she's left wanting more, shaking from it. bruised. "you even taste good... god damn..."

there’s no careful rhythm this time around, no real sense or thought remaining in este’s brain. it's all she can do to whimper for him helplessly, listening to the vulgar sounds of her wet arousal coating every thrust. this is nothing but wild need, the two of them both burning and hungry, the only satiation to be found in the taste of the other’s skin. “jesper—” she gasps out, his name fracturing into broken shards and eager moans at the sharp puncture of teeth in her neck as he strikes deep and just... holds there. the roughness, the almost cruel grind is messy and perfect, and she can’t help but roll her body up into it, always trying as best she can to get more from him somehow. but now she’s aware of every single pulse, each little twitch, and she clenches desperately around him in response, a hand clawing madly at the shifting, rolling muscles in his back. it takes every piece of energy left just to try putting her needs together into a coherent sentence. “god, please… you can be rough. just need you, daddy. please.” she can feel the edge of it hanging there, the shape of it clawing its way towards her bit by bit. how jesper could possibly be capable of having so much control is fucking astounding because her reserves are well and truly depleted, the fingers in his hair giving the strands a gentle tug of encouragement. “yeah? mark me again. show everyone i’m yours.”

“yeah, okay, i’ll give you that - definitely the messiest bonding exercise i’ve ever been part of.” ethan glances down at his shirt, stained near the shoulder, and then back up at her with a lopsided grin. “most of my friendships start with like… beer pong. or fantasy football trash talk. not them...trying to eat me.” but the smile doesn’t last long. he watches her retreat to the edge of the couch, the space between them stretching wider than it really is, and something about that starts to sit heavy in his chest. maybe it’s because for all her sarcasm and sharp remarks, she still patched him up. still didn’t run. still hasn’t kicked him out. his tone drops a little, not teasing anymore. “can i ask you something?” he waits a beat, not really sure if she’ll shut him down or throw another deflection at him, but he goes for it anyway. “what happened to you?” he doesn’t mean the succubus thing - not exactly. not just the superhuman abiities and the blood and the way her hands had trembled earlier. he’s asking about her. the way she talks like someone who's used to keeping people at arm’s length, like it’s safer that way. “i mean, before all this,” he adds gently. “before you were out there on the road, looking at me like i was a steak. you said there’s no guidebook… so how did it even start?”

it might not be obvious at first, but every muscle in jackie’s body freezes at once, so much so that she can’t even move to form words in response. the silence drags on and on, and right before it seems like he won’t be getting any answers, her gaze shifts until it settles on a random spot near the floor. “i don’t know.” it’s somehow a mixture of both sincere and evasive, and she isn’t proud of what it does to her voice; makes it sound shaky before she clears her throat to rid herself of it. “wasn’t my choice if that’s what you’re asking. i didn’t really have much of a say.” and by that, she means she didn’t have any at all. it’s still hazy, only flashes of the night available to her when she casts her mind back, but the one thing she remembers most of all is fear. “there was a party. i don’t know if somebody slipped something into my drink or they were just stronger than i thought, but i ended up outside with this guy and he was being really fucking weird… wouldn’t let me leave, was talking in some other language. latin, maybe?” head shakes, uncertain. “not sure... long story short, i’m pretty sure he killed me.” now a wry smile is on her face and she lifts the hem of her shirt to reveal the raised, white scar marking her torso. no amount of siphoning will take it away. “it hurt like hell and there was… a lot of blood. when i woke up, something was different. i was different. if you can put all those pieces together and figure it out what happened for me, go nuts. your guess is as good as mine.”

jesper can't help but to drink her up for a second, eyes roving over her body like this is the first time he's seen her in this position. long, dark tresses splayed beneath her on his pillows, her heaving breasts that still stand at attention, how slick she is between the legs even in under the dim lights of his bedside lamps. every inch a thing of beauty, part of a larger work of art; how could she ever feel the need to make it up to him? it's hardly necessary when she's everything he wants and needs, merely bare beneath him. "don't have to tell me twice," he muses back with a smirk that soon grows slack the moment she surges up to kiss him, jesper returning to that achingly familiar spot between her legs with their chests pressed together. the angle of her legs makes it easy and far too natural for the blunt of his shaft to sheathe inside her, until he can feel the resistance that hints at him to pull back some. nearly removes himself completely before delving back in again, to push the limits of what her body can handle at once. she wants him to fuck her? he'll happily oblige. "— shit, este.... always so fucking tight for me, aren't you? even when you're begging for something to fill you up."

pleasure roars through her, the distant pain from the sudden stretch as her body struggles to accommodate him only stoking the blaze further until it feels like every inch of her is consumed by heat. este’s broken, eager moan is something obscene and the moment he retreats, she shivers, reaching to grab at his arm as if she could pull him back to her. fortunately, he’s already one step ahead and she doesn’t have to do much else, the next snap of his hips successful in punching the breath straight from her lungs. what room is left for the heartache she’d gone through earlier when she’s filled all her empty spaces with him? “fuck, i— you feel—” it’s barely audible at first, but she forces herself to use words, slurred and pleasure-drunk as they are. “bite me, use me, whatever you want. just don’t stop.” whether it’s pure instinct or a conscious act, her fingers begin to wind themselves into jesper's hair and drag his mouth back to hers, though it’s less a proper kiss and more like sharing breath, the shape of it messy and open-mouthed.

"but?" he knows there's no way in hell este can finish that statement and certainly won't give her the opportunity with the way his digits curl into that special spot inside her. an evil tactic to eventually get them to where they both can't fight the urge any longer, no matter the bullshit that spews from his mouth about this being enough for the both of them. much like his capacity to cherish anything and everything este gives him, the male will never have his fill so long as this beautiful girl is breathing the same air as him on this godforsaken planet. "fuck that? getting feisty with those words. i don't want to make you beg tonight, babe," he attempts to reassure her, the fire in his stomach flaring the moment she expresses what she wants. that feverish heat travels to every extremity, all the way to his lips that furl into a coy smirk when he finally removes his fingers from inside her in favor of removing the last remaining articles of clothing on both their persons. now that he's totally bare, she can see just the effect she's made on him with merely a few marks made with her mouth. "can just be a pretty pillow princess while your boyfriend fucks you. sound good?"

it was touch and go for a minute there, but she’s relieved to discover that he does have some mercy left in him. thank god for that. not that she was necessarily above begging — she already had the words locked and loaded, resting eagerly on the tip of her tongue just in case the first plan of pout and hope fell through — but it’ll save them a whole lot of time that could be better spent doing far more interesting things. ogling turns out to be one of them, este brazenly watching while he removes his boxers and her breathing picks up in anticipation, kiss-swollen lips parting because no matter how many times she’s seen him like this, she always feels the same wave of awe. “god, you're perfect... i’ll make it up to you later, promise.” return the favour another time when there’s enough energy left within her that she’s more of an active participant and they won’t have to rush. given their current track record of sleeping together, that day will likely come sooner rather than later. “c’mere, sweetheart.” by her standards, it’s been too long since their last kiss and she offers up her mouth, leg hooking back around his hip to urge him closer still.

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