note1: this was written in two sittings, i'm just happy to finally be writing again. a note that some lines used in this chapter were taken from the movie or book. and i know there is a lot of misogyny (sometimes internalized) present in all the characters, but there's not much i can really do because that's their characters. so i'm sorry if you're tired of it, but it'll keep coming up because it affects the story line and how all the characters act. i hope i end up resolving it all in a way because i hated how katheryn was villainized and sebastian was washed out in the movie.

note2: WARNING i finally earn my M rating. there is a smut scene. it's my first time writing cunnilingus, so underage readers, please click back now.


just let me motherfucking love you

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massie;

Massie sat in front of her vanity and ran her makeup brush over the tops of her cheekbones. It had been a long time since she had fully looked at herself in the mirror with the intention of honestly observing her looks. Massie rarely ever had to put effort into her daily routine, so at events where she was forced to, there was a noticeable difference.

Her mother had once called her features refined, but Massie had always thought she just looked mean and pale. Right now though, she thought her full face finally matched her eyes.

Her cheekbones were sharp from the contour and her lids shimmered every time she blinked. Her eyes were artfully smudged with kohl and her highlight glittered when she tilted her head. With her dramatic liner and false lashes, her amber eyes were vivid.

At best, Massie could be considered pretty, but tonight… she was striking.

So why did she feel like complete shit?

Was it because for the first time in years, she was attending a dance without a date? She shook her head. No… that couldn't be it. Alicia was practically her date every time anyway. Was it because she was worried people wouldn't enjoy the theme she picked for the dance? No… that couldn't be it either because she had gone with the classic A Night in the Stars, assuring all the girls in her class that any night dresses they picked wouldn't clash. Was it because only two hours before, Kristen had called to say that she and Claire Lyons were neck to neck for Homecoming Queen? No, that couldn't be it either because Massie had never placed second for a popularity contest in her life.

Massie criticized her reflection in the mirror carefully. Maybe her mind was subliminally telling her something?

Was her liner uneven? Was her hair flat? Was her dress too frilly?

What was wrong with her?

Massie swiped her hand across her vanity table in a fit of frustration, sending brushes scattering onto the floor and palettes clattering across her room. She had reached the point of fighting down actual tears, as she watched her highlight roll across her carpet. Her makeup came to a sudden stop at her stepbrother's dress shoes. Realizing Derrick would probably notice if she was upset, she quickly cast her eyes back to her reflection, avoiding eye contact as he stepped into her bedroom.

"What do you want?" she snapped. She willed the tears in her eyes to recede. She wondered if he could see. She wished he wasn't here, that he hadn't just witnessed her slip.

She enjoyed Derrick, but his presence was suddenly making her brain itch, her skin crawl, her pulse race.

For so long he had been her one constant, but everything her life was so unstable now. Nothing felt safe, nothing felt right.

Massie forced herself to shake it off. Whatever this feeling was, it needed to go. Derrick was her one familiar. If nothing else, his reactions could be depended on.

"Finally over your little temper tantrum?" she asked, sweeping her hair forward and standing up to face him. Derrick was dressed in dark blue tux, but sans vest or tie and Massie couldn't help but wonder if his date was going to be pissed he was dressed so casual he toed the line of being underdressed. The only sign that he had put any effort into his Homecoming look was that his hair was styled for once.

His body language was casual too, slouched against her doorway with his hands in his pockets, but his face, on the other hand, was dark with emotion. Like her, he didn't look at all excited for tonight. Derrick straightened up and entered her room slowly. Massie felt her confidence dip a bit when he finally slanted his eyes in her direction.

"Do you ever get tired of being such a bitch?"

Despite his harsh words, Massie decided to take it as banter. Banter, Massie could do.

She gave him a sly smile. "No. Do you ever get tired of being an asshole?"

Derrick reached over and swept her hair back over her shoulder, and Massie let him. She had been mad at him at first, but now she was just glad he was engaging her again. The silence from his part was almost weird. The longer Massie had time to think about it, the more she was slowly realizing that her stepbrother might be one of the only people in the world that she felt—

Derrick's mouth was suddenly on hers, kissing her hard and fast and furious.

Massie pushed at him instinctively, feeling like she had lost her footing somewhere and suddenly about to fall off an edge. Probably because she was literally tipping over in her heels. Derrick tugged her back to her feet by her wrists and Massie fought to push at him again.

"Get off!" she called, feeling almost dizzy from confusion.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he murmured. One of his hands was curling into her hair and the other was wrapping around her waist, tugging and molding her pliant body into his. His mouth slanted back into hers. There was nothing romantic or gentle about it. Harsh, hungry, heated, she felt like he was devouring her whole.

Kissing him was so familiar Massie's head was swimming. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. Her brain couldn't seem to find traction long enough to come to a decision. It couldn't even complete a thought. A part of her brain was screaming at her to push him away, but her body wasn't moving. She was still fighting with herself when Derrick moved away from her lips, which a part of her brain thought was disappointing, but then he moved to her neck, which another part of her body thought was gratifying.

Or was it? It definitely wasn't supposed to be… Right?

"What do you think you're doing?" she finally rasped out loud, as stepbrother nuzzled her neck in a decidedly sensual way.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do I need to draw you a picture?" he asked, breath sweeping against her sensitive neck. His fingers were ghosting under her dress, gliding up her thighs and sliding upwards. He pushed her back against her bedroom wall and pressed his body up against hers, allowing her to feel his erection.

She gasped.

The heat of his body pulled back and the expression on his face was dark again. He looked pissed, but his body couldn't lie. His eyes were full of outright desire. His hands gripped a fistful of the bottom of her dress and lifted. Massie barely had a second to process this before his hot mouth was back on her neck, and when she tried to protest, he bit down.

Massie hissed, not at the pain because she kind of liked it, but from the tremor that rocked through her sex at the feeling.

"Don't worry. This… This won't count towards the bet. It won't go that far. It won't mean anything," Derrick assured her.

Massie's stomach swooped.

"Wow. Just what every girl wants to hear," she replied bitterly.

Derrick didn't respond, his fingers skimming her hip under her dress. He paused for a second as if his own words had just hit him, but then his fingers slid unashamedly into her panties, all the way up to her burning center.

Kissing him was familiar because she had done it before back in middle school, but this definitely wasn't.

Massie sucked in a breath when he brushed against her wet heat. He must have taken it as a confirmation of her desire, because the very next moment, he was pushing up more of her dress and sinking to his knees. The air was cold against her exposed thighs as Massie gave in and held up her dress for him. His fingers hooked under her panties and dragged them down.

Massie kicked them away and moaned when his fingers parted her.

She bit her lip to prevent any more noises when he leaned forward and licked. His tongue stroked and massaged her, causing her hands to clench against the layers of her dress, her fingers itching for a better grip on something. Heat was swelling and expanding in her chest, strangling her and traveling down towards her core.

Her legs felt weak, but Derrick still hadn't touched her.

He looked up at her and smirked. "Ask nicely, Block."

"Fuck you, Derrick."

It wasn't asking and it wasn't nice. Not even close, but Massie had never had to ask for anything in her life. And if she did, she wouldn't have done it nicely either. Neither of them had ever been nice in their life. What was the point?

Derrick slipped a finger inside her and Massie couldn't fight the gasp of pleasure that escaped.

"You might want to hold onto something," he told her, and Massie almost laughed, but then he licked all the way to the center of her core. She couldn't help rolling her hips. He kissed her there with the same intensity he kissed her with earlier, like she was the antidote to the poison coursing through his veins, the only cure to his personal disease.

She reached down and tugged on his hair, but Derrick was gripping her thighs and holding her legs apart as his tongue ran around her center. His hands held her in place and Massie couldn't help but whimper. He explored her core before sliding up to her clit and Massie couldn't help her sharp cry.

She lost coherency, vision, and all her breath in one fell swoop.

Her back arched and her breath came out in short, uneven pants. He circled her clit once, twice, three times, and she was begging.

Her entire body was buzzing, craving, reaching. Derrick teased her, gripping her legs and nipping her thighs. He pushed his fingers deep inside her and curled them. Then, he sucked her clit into his mouth, rolling her sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips and flicking with his tongue.

Massie's entire body went tight, pleasure spiking sharp and startling, almost electric.

For one heart stopping moment, everything went dark as her orgasm rushed through her. The whole thing had only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like hours as a wave of pleasure after the next ran through her. Her vision came back slowly, whiting out her bedroom with a hazy quality as she finally quieted and her body slowly relaxed.

Orgasms. The only thing better than a committing verbal slap down in public, than standing in front of a stadium full of people and accepting her position as Student Body President, than a bump of cocaine and the rush of a high.

She was still trembling when Derrick pressed one last kiss to her center and raised his head to look her in the eye.

She was still fighting to catch her breath when his eyes met hers. Despite the intensity in his eyes, Derrick looked calm and composed, almost completely distant. It suddenly occurred to Massie that she had underestimated him.

He was good.

He was really good. The rush of confusion was suddenly back.

Derrick had been her one familiar constant and now she felt like she couldn't predict him at all.

Like she couldn't predict anything at all anymore.

Massie swallowed, feeling vulnerable and weak. Derrick was the one on his knees, but she was the one that was feeling like she wasn't holding all the cards anymore. Like she had just lost whatever twisted games they had been playing. Like suddenly, she wasn't the one with power anymore.

Derrick helped her pull her dress back down and helped her smooth it out. He stood up and kissed her slowly on the mouth. It took her a second, because she was still on autopilot, to kiss him back. Everything about this was so confusing, it didn't even occur to her to protest.

"My turn," he whispered.

He was reaching to take off his jacket when it happened. The front doorbell rang through the entire house loudly, shocking Massie back to her senses.

Without another word, she pushed him away and turned towards her vanity mirror. Her face was flushed, but her makeup was still flawless. Her lips were swollen, but she hadn't applied any lipstick yet, so there weren't any smudges to fix. The only thing mussed was her hair, which was easily fixed as she ran her fingers through her curls and then against her scalp for volume.

"Are you kidding me?" Derrick snapped.

"It's Alicia," Massie snapped back. "What's wrong with you?"

At her words, Derrick seemed to snap back to his senses too, but he didn't move to straighten out his formal jacket or to fix his hair. Massie met his eyes in the mirror and seemed to flounder. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he want Alicia to blab to the entire school about what had possibly happened between them?

What had happened between them?

Derrick had come on to her out of nowhere and reduced her to this… trembling, struggling mess. She hesitated to even look him in the eyes. She had never felt more unsure of herself in her entire life.

Massie had been teasing Derrick like this since they first started their games, but he had never taken her up on her invitations. He knew he wasn't allowed to. He had never dared. There was a line they weren't allowed to cross, but nothing fit into what she planned or expected or wanted anymore.

It had all started this summer, with a vacation alone in Paris, anxiety and loneliness tingeing her view of the streets and landmarks dark. It started with Kemp Hurley dumping her for someone nice, someone pure. It started with Becca Wilder, sending the school into a panic and the reelection of a new Student Council President of someone clean. It started with Derrick Harrington, her stepbrother and usual partner in crime, doing what she asked, but nothing in the way she wanted. It started all the way back at the start of her awakening, back when she first figured out the way the world worked, where she realized society would always prefer girls like Claire Lyons to girls like Massie Block.

It all started and ended with Claire Lyons.

Nothing was right anymore.

She had to make it right.

Alicia could wait. Massie's eyes flashed up and met Derrick's in the mirror. "Have you slept with her yet?"

The heat in his eyes intensified. Massie didn't know what to make of that.

"No," he answered.

Massie hadn't even known she had been holding her breath until she was letting it out in relief. That was what she expected, what she wanted. This she could work with. Tease him, fuck with him, deny him. This was what Massie thrived on.

She knew exactly how to handle guys like that because she already knew exactly how they'd react. Maybe that was why Derrick had tried to pull something with her? Maybe he had thought she would say no? Did he know what she'd do and what she'd say? Could he have seen through her act?

Normally, Massie hedged her bets. Because you deny a guy once and suddenly, you were a bitch and a tease. Next to the word slut, those were the most common words for a woman to hear, and the easiest to earn. And when you were called a slut enough times, you learned to own your pleasure to beat them at their own game. Massie wasn't afraid of giving in to her desires. She was only afraid of giving in to another's.

But this was quid pro quo, she got what she wanted and he got his. Even stakes. No winners, but definitely a loser: Claire.

Massie tugged her hair over her shoulder to cover up his mark and smirked slowly, "It sucks to suck, doesn't it? I don't reward incompetence. I'm not touching you until I get proof. And if you can't pull it off… Well…"

At her response, Derrick finally straightened up. He looked conflicted for a moment as he wracked his hand through his mussed hair.

"She's falling for me," he admitted to her.

Massie slowly picked up her lipstick and tucked it into her Chloé clutch for reapplication later.

"Oh, Derrick," she sighed. "She's not."

Massie couldn't help shaking her head. Her ex had been with many girls, but he was still so clueless. Didn't he know girls like Claire weren't in love if they refused to give it up? Girls in love no longer have a will of their own. They sacrifice it all, to their lover.

"She'd be sleeping with you if she was. You might have conquered her love of God, but you still have to overcome her fear of the Devil."

Derrick was looking at her again, and this time there was meaning in it. Suddenly, he was looking at her like he didn't recognize her at all. His eyes burned into her as though they were searching her, trying to read her, but Massie didn't let him. She wanted to get things back to the way it was before. And Derrick searching her person and not her body wasn't the way it was before. She gripped her clutch and stood up, making her way out of her bedroom to where Alicia was waiting.

"We're done some pretty fucked up shit in our time, Block. But this… we're destroying an innocent girl. You do realize that, don't you?"

Massie whipped around to face him, furious.

"Kemp Hurley," she snapped, and in her head, she added Becca Wilder, Claire Lyons, Derrick himself to her tally, "is going down and if you're not going to help me, someone else will."

Derrick stared at her for a shock for a moment before his eyes narrowed and he started after her. Massie wasn't staying around for him to continue condemning her. She swung back around and padded down her hallway, heading for their main staircase. She couldn't stop herself from ranting though.

"Fuck you, Harrington. Do you think I'm not tired of having to act like Taylor fucking Swift all the time to be considered proper? Do you think that I don't realize it's not Claire I hate, but everything she represents, and that I'm a terrible person for gunning for her anyway? Do you think I don't know I'm a bitch? Because I do. I know all that. You can't hurt a girl by calling her things she's already heard a thousand times a day by society."

So yeah, sure. Massie was a bitch, but Derrick was an asshole. He was a thousand times worse than her. So why was he suddenly feeling remorse?

"You act like this is somehow any different for anything you've done in the past, but it's not. Guys would sleep with anything that moved, and when the girls aren't so sure… they convince them. You've done it too." Derrick looked ready to argue her words and was already fishing for a rebuttal, but Massie pushed forward, correcting herself, but refusing to let him get a word in. "Maybe not with a relationship, but with words, with trinkets, and with their own desire. So, there's your condemnation, Derrick. A condemnation to all the assholes out there. You talk girls into sleeping with you all the time, with false promises and declarations and all for your reputation. And you don't even treasure any of it, you share it with the entire world for sport. You've done it all your life. So, how is what you're doing with Claire any worse?"

Derrick looked stricken.

"It's not," he admitted, sounding resigned.

Massie nodded decisively, stopping just before she reached their front door, where Alicia was waiting for her outside.

"Exactly. So, tell me now, are you in or do you forfeit?"

Derrick didn't say anything for a while, and Massie felt her stomach swoop again. There was a heart stopping moment where Massie thought Derrick was going to say no to her, but then he sighed, his mouth quirking up, and his body posture relaxed into the devil-may-care attitude he always exuded. She hadn't even noticed how strung up he had been all week until she was looking at him relaxing now.

"Fine. I'm in."

Massie felt her heart skip once and couldn't fight the relief that flooded her entire body. Derrick was staring at her with that wicked look in his eyes again and she hadn't even known she had missed it until now. There was her constant. She knew he would be on her side. Derrick was the only person who knew exactly who she was, the type of person she was, what she was capable of, so he didn't bother trying to dissect her or to change her. She had hated the way he looked at her earlier, like he had hadn't known her at all, but Derrick was the one person who wasn't afraid of her and she wasn't sure what kind of person she'd be if that ever changed.

Out of everyone, Derrick allowed her to be herself.

So she shrugged off the lingering worry and smiled.

"Good," she purred, helping him finally straighten back out his formal jacket. He was lucky she would never be his date, because she would have hated that he was so blasé about a formal event. But from another standpoint, she liked how careless he looked, wild and free and untamable. A look she could have never dared to pull off herself.

She met his caramel eyes and nodded. "Fuck Claire Lyons. Cement your reputation. Destroy her. Win our bet... and win me."

.


note3: an all massie pov this time, so lots of confusion and angst and bitchiness. i purposely set it up so you won't be able to see derrick's pov and what he's thinking until the next chapter, so stay tuned. thanks for all your encouraging reviews they keep my spirits up. xx

note4: pls review if you like or i might never work up the courage to post another chapter again lol