#I think that’s when my brain decided yeah let’s fixate on this man for a bit

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

nooooo drea don't do it. my last work crush ended up becoming my first love who then cheated on me and broke my heart causing me to have to quit my job <3

Oh I won’t <3 I have of history of just keeping quiet until it eventually goes away or I don’t see them again LMFAOWKDKD

[lukesaprince]

Ruin Me H.S

Summary: When the good girl / bad boy trope is just as hypnotic and addictive as everyone says it is OR y/n decides to get Harry's handwriting tattooed on her thigh (badboy/gang LHH trope?)

Warnings:  SMUT!! oral (f receiving), edging, spanking (with hand and belt), hair pulling, squirting, masochism, dom!harry, mocking/degradation, dacryphilia, bondage (with a belt), Injuries (black eye, split lip, gunshot wound & wound cleanup)... I think that's it 😅

Word count: 13.7k+

Author's note: This is loosely and I mean SO loosely inspired by Guilty As Sin by Taylor Swift and yeah I know what that song is about but this is based off literally one line in it... I definitely got carried away with the story hehe

- Find my General Masterlist here -

You never liked the bad boy, good girl narrative. The power imbalance and toxicity that came with someone so ruined and so problematic trying to heal his soul in someone that deserved better. She would always think she could change him, that he was just misunderstood and needed someone to love him. That his soul could be healed.

It was bullshit. Until you found yourself in that exact situation, believing just that. That he was misunderstood and so kind underneath his rough exterior. You even found yourself loving the hidden hookups and midnight cleanups. A knock on your door at all hours in the night to be let in for some charged, desperate fuck or to be fixed up because he got in a fight. 

You didn’t even know how it started, really. Harry was an enigma. A shadow in the wind that appeared one moment and disappeared the next on a dark bike just as mysterious as he was. That was how you met him, in a fleeting moment which at the time meant nothing. Until it meant everything. 

He drove by the cafe you worked at. You were closing up for the night and locking the door when the loud purr of his bike filled the entire street. You were already on edge being by yourself after the girl closing with you had to leave sick so your head whipped around to follow the loud noise. 

That’s when you saw him for the first time. He drove through the quiet street with a girl on the back of his bike that you had never seen before, both dressed head to toe in dark clothing and leather. They each had a black helmet covering their heads and yet you still knew that they were both looking at you.

It was unnerving and an interaction that had you walking a lot faster to your car in case they circled back and decided to give you trouble. Your town was used to damaged, dangerous shadows. People like Harry who came in for a night or a weekend for something illicit, only to never return. 

You weren’t sure why your small town attracted people like that, but only being a 45-minute drive from the closest big city made it the go-to place for affairs, romantic getaways, illegal meetings and everything in between.

Harry was meant to be like that too. Someone who just passed through. Until he met you.

The very next day he found himself visiting the cafe in hopes you were there. Harry wasn’t sure why he felt the need to go there since he was meant to be driving back to the city the morning after his rendezvous, but there was something about your eyes that he couldn’t get out of his head.

He didn’t even know if you’d be there and yet by some chance or fate, you were. Your back was towards him, busy on barista duty making coffees for the many customers waiting for their orders. He recognised your hair first; pulled back in two long braids down your back. You wore the cafe logo on your t-shirt and this pair of jeans that made your ass look incredible. 

You had no idea what the mystery man from last night looked like but you spent the night filling in the blanks of what was hidden beneath his helmet. Your brain seemed to be fixated on the stranger with some magical pull like you knew him already. Your body definitely seemed to like him already, that’s for sure.

“Harry? Americano two sugars.” You called out, sliding the takeaway cup to the edge of the counter before moving on to the next coffee. When the figure approached the counter, you went into your automatic greeting, “have a nice da-”, but the words got caught in your throat when you looked up and locked eyes with the same stranger last night. 

You knew it was him instantly. There was no rhyme or reason to explain it, but you knew and he was even more good-looking than you ever could’ve imagined. With piercing green eyes and a strong jaw, plump pink lips and tattoos running up both arms that had your core clenching. The most unexpected feature of all though, was his long luscious curls pulled back from his face and running just past his shoulders. 

Harry smirked, visibly seeing the wide-eyed, freeze response your body had just at the sight of him. It was a reaction he got often. He was tall and handsome and the dark clothing he wore made him appear far more intimidating than the usual curly-haired white boy. 

“Thank you, love.” He smirked, grabbing the takeaway cup before casually slipping a $100 bill into the tip jar. He was walking out of the cafe without another word, looking at you over his shoulder before he was walking down the street and out of your view.

That night it wasn’t just his face you were dreaming about. 

You never expected to see the handsome stranger, who you now knew as Harry, again but as the weeks went by he came to visit the cafe time and time again. It was always the same order and the same ‘thank you, love’ that had your head spinning and then he was gone with no idea of when he’d return again.

Then one day he took things a step further and asked you when your break was. It was the longest you heard him speak and the more words that came out, the more you found yourself hypnotised by the way his mouth wrapped around the syllables. Your coworkers warned you that men like him were dangerous and not worth the excitement and pleasure they always offered.

Time and time again you had helped your friends through some shitty breakup or worse with one of the travellers that rolled through town and you always promised yourself you wouldn’t put yourself in a situation like that. It was clear from the very first night that he was trouble but as much as you wanted to keep your distance, you just couldn’t. 

You had never felt so mesmerised by another person before. That initial burning attraction hot enough to take your breath away. In only one sit down with him, you were ready to risk it all. He was so gorgeous and charming and sweet. The epitome of that misunderstood bad boy.

Just like his frequent cafe visits, your lunch breaks soon became his. You two would sit and he’d always ask you about yourself. You did most of the talking and he did most of the listening, never giving much away of himself. He’d show up with bloody knuckles or a bruised eye but would mask the pain and simply shrug when you asked him if he was okay.

It was starting to feel like he knew everything about you and you knew nothing in return. You wanted to know everything about him. After weeks of these little interactions, he never tried to fuck you or pursue things with you or make you feel like you owed him for all the $100 tips he left. All he wanted to do was talk and if anything, that made you want him more.

Then one night�� everything changed.

You were woken in the middle of the night by a crash in your living room. That would be scary for anyone, but it was even scarier when you were on the top floor and the only access points to your apartment were the front door and the fire escape out the window. 

You went into immediate panic mode, snatching the steak knife you had tucked under your pillows between your top sheet and your fitted sheet in case this very thing happened. Living alone had its challenges and one of them was the intense fear someone would break in in the middle of the night. By now you could recognise the sounds of your apartment and building so not every little creak freaked you out, but anyone could recognise the sound of broken glass and your pot plant being knocked over. 

Sticking the knife out in front of you, you tip-toed out of your bedroom and down the hallway to your living room where the noise came from. Your phone was clutched against your chest, the three-digit emergency number ready to be called in case it wasn’t your cat, Mouse, knocking things over. Mouse was a fragile little thing and sometimes got scared by the smallest things. Even setting a mug down on the bench too hard could have her jumping out of her skin. 

You prayed it was only her being skittish. 

When you made it to the end of your hallway, you pressed yourself against the wall and tipped your head out ever so slightly to look into your living room. A whole wave of emotions rushed over you at once at the sight. It wasn’t your cat, but rather a tall dark figure holding your purring pet. 

It was a figure you recognised immediately, even with his strong back facing towards you.

“Harry? What the fuck?” You hissed, turning your phone off while turning the lights on at the same time. 

“Hey, bunny.” Harry flashed a sly smile, turning to look at you. You noticed the dried blood on his lip and eyebrow instantly and the swollen ball forming on his cheek. Fucking hell. 

That smile instantly dropped when his eyes ran over you, taking in the ratty loose t-shirt and tiny underwear you were wearing. The t-shirt had a worn-out collar making it slide down to expose your collarbone and one shoulder. Your nipples were pressing through the thin material, all pebbled and hard from the cold air now blowing in from the window Harry accidentally broke on his way in. 

Getting dressed was the last thing on your mind before venturing out here and you suddenly regretted not putting pants on at least. To be fucking fair though, you never would’ve guessed Harry would break in through your window when A. you had a very suitable front door, B. he didn’t even have your number and C. you never told him where you lived. 

“What the… how do you know where I live?” You asked a little shakily, crossing your arms to cover your chest while still keeping the knife on guard in front of you.

Harry set down Mouse and she immediately ran over to you, purring while sliding her body against your calf. He walked over to you slowly and the closer he got, the worse his injuries appeared. A split lip and split eyebrow and a deep purple hue starting to form around his socket. He looked awful. 

“Are you going to stab me, bunny?” He drawled, almost mockingly. You stood your ground, trying not to show your shaking as your hand tightened around the handle of the knife. His eyes were dark and he allowed himself a final drag over your body, stepping so close to you that the tip of the knife pressed into his stomach while he towered over you. “Gonna cut me open? Give me another scar to add to my collection?”

Even though you knew you should be scared, you weren’t. He found your address and broke into your house and yet physically, you weren’t the slightest bit worried that he’d hurt you. You knew nothing about him, didn’t even know what illegal venture he did for work and yet you trusted him.

Because you trusted him, your shaking was for a very different reason. Having him in your apartment all bloody and bruised and still as handsome as ever had you completely worked up. The thought of… of doing just what he teased, of giving him a scar that reminded him of you forever… god, it was so fucked up how horny that made you.

You were obsessed over a man who hadn’t even kissed you, yet knew every single thing about you. It was ridiculous. That felt even more ridiculous than playing off this entire interaction as a somewhat normal experience. 

“I’ve got a perfectly fine front door, y’know.” You whispered, looking over to the broken window. You kept your knife against his stomach, even testing the waters by pressing it harder ever so gently into the toned muscles beneath his shirt. “And you’re paying for that to be fixed, by the way.” 

Harry laughed, wincing ever so slightly at the tinge of pain in his face. But still, he laughed. And it was golden. “I’ll pay for whatever you want,” He murmured, smirking while looking down at the knife. “I’m sure you’re very skilled with a blade, bunny, but will you put it aside for now and clean me up instead? Need a pretty girl to make me feel better.”

You looked between your knife and his eyes, reluctantly dropping your hand beside your hip. “Come on.”

Saying nothing else, you spun around and walked into your bathroom. Harry followed closely behind, looking around your apartment with curiosity before his eyes fell on you. You pulled your t-shirt down as far as it would go, but it still rode up as you walked and he found himself unable to look anywhere else.

“Sit.” You pointed to the closed toilet and set your knife down on the bench, crouching down to get the first aid kit from the cabinet below the sink.

Harry did as told and shrugged his leather jacket off, setting it down on the bench before sitting on the closed toilet lid. He watched you intently, saying nothing as you set up your tools to sanitise and clean his wounds. 

After grabbing some gauze and betadine to clean the open wounds, you soaked the material and started to clean the small gash on his eyebrow. Harry kept completely still, barely feeling the pinch. Your touch was so soft, so gentle. He found it more relaxing than anything else. Once that wound was clean, you moved onto his mouth which Harry found a lot more sensitive. 

“So how did this happen?” you asked softly, dabbing his lip with the small cloth. His eyes closed as he tensed, hands fisting on his knees to stop himself from getting too worked up. Pain didn’t affect Harry, at least not in a normal way. Every sting and bite at your hand was turning him on in an inappropriate way. You were his bunny, his girl. He couldn’t get hard around you when all you were trying to do was help him. 

“Oh, y’know...” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on you but not giving anything away.

“I don’t, actually.” You responded. 

“It doesn’t matter how it happened, just that I’ve got a pretty girl fixing me up.” He attempted to smooth it over with a soft smile and a loving tap on your chin. It was the most he ever touched you, a little tap on your chin or a graze of his fingers on your cheek. He never touched your knee or your hand or anywhere else. It was infuriating. 

“It does! You show up here in the middle of the night and break in. I don’t even know how you found my address but I’m cleaning your cuts and you won’t even tell me how you got them. How is that fair!? I know nothing about you Harry.” Your voice bordered on a sigh and a yell, exhausted with him showing up out of nowhere and charming you before disappearing again. You weren’t sure what to make of it and he wasn’t giving you any ideas on what he actually wanted from you.

“It’s better that way, y/n.” He looked away from you, leaning back so your fingers weren’t holding his chin anymore to keep him in position. “You don’t want to get involved with me.”

“That’s not fair and you know it. You show up constantly and-and what? Have lunch with me? Get to know me? You can’t do that and not expect me to want to know something back.” You expressed frustratingly, shoving the first aid items into the small bin beside your cabinet. 

“I want to keep you safe, y/n.” He stood from the toilet, sighing when you refused to look at him. “The less you know about me, the safer you’ll be.”

“So why do you even keep coming back if you don’t want me involved with you? It’s killing me!” You snapped, looking up at him accusatorily. 

“Because I can’t stay away from you.” He whispered, sliding his hand over the side of your neck. Your breath hitched at the touch, your body automatically leaning into it as he rubbed his thumb over your jaw and towards your mouth. Oh. “I’m so fucking obsessed with you it’s unhealthy. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time, y/n.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Tears pricked at your eyes, “you’re so confusing Harry because you look at me like that and say things but you don’t even touch me. You haven’t kissed me or-or anything. Just tell me what you want from me so I know where to set my expectations.”

“You think I don’t want to kiss you?” He cocked his head, turning your bodies so your back was to the basin. His hand looped to the front of your neck and it was like every cell in your body suddenly put their focus onto him. You couldn’t breathe or think or move or anything. Not when his large ringed fingers were wrapped around your neck like he was carrying a trophy. A prize to claim. “You think I don’t want to touch you?”

Harry pressed his hips into you, eliciting a gasp when you felt his long, hard cock pressed against you. He used his hips to nudge you against the cabinet, pinning you there so you couldn’t go anywhere. “All I think about is kissing you. Kissing your lips and your neck and… everywhere. The things I want to do to you y/n are so unsavoury your pretty little head would explode.”

He always thought you were this pure… innocent angel. One of the rare people in the world with no ill intentions. You were polite and sweet, even after Harry significantly brought you out of your shell since he met you. You were studying to be a nurse for Christ’s sake, some of the purest of the pure.

He wanted to ruin you. He wanted to take that innocence away more than anything on this planet. It was his built-in fucked up default program. To want what he couldn’t have. To want to destroy everything around him. 

But he couldn’t do that to you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, even if it hurt him in the process. Harry had no light in his life, no hope until he met you and he knew that the moment this became real he would destroy you. His life would destroy you or Harry would do something to fuck it all up and he’d hurt you.

He’d break your heart. 

“It won’t.” You rushed out, “It won’t explode. I… I want it.” You could barely articulate yourself. Not when his whole body was pressed to yours. All you had been thinking of for months was having him completely dominate your body. Just to touch you and please you. Even if it was only one time before he disappeared from your life forever.

You needed it.

“I’ll ruin you.” He promised, leaning in closer so his nose bumped against yours. He breathed out a ragged breath, feeling so close to completely giving in to his desires. All of them. “I’ll destroy every good thing about you, y/n. You don’t want that.”

The scariest part of all… was that you did want it. You were becoming the exact person you didn’t want to be. A good girl sacrificing herself to save the soul of someone who might never be saved. But you believed Harry would be saved. You could fix him. Help him to get away from whatever life he lived that made him hurt so badly inside. 

You wanted to save him. 

“I do. I do want it.” You nodded desperately, grabbing his other hand to guide it towards your clothed mound. You pressed your hand over his, using your own fingers to press his against the silky wet patch on the crotch of your underwear. He swore under his breath, taking the initiative to stroke his fingers along the wet material. “Ruin me. Please.”

So he did.

He ruined you over and over again that night and for many nights after. It completely changed everything for you two. Like it was the last barrier stopping you two from being completely open with each other. You had always told him the things you told everyone else. Your likes and dislikes, the show you were watching, your workplace drama.

But your desires… your needs and wants. They were reserved for no one but yourself. Until he came along. 

Harry told you he’d ruin you and he stuck to his word. The things you did together were dirty and depraved and left you with such a feral need for the man, you would’ve let him do quite literally anything to you. As would he, you. And you practically had. Every desire or curiosity was sated and he was willing to do anything to satisfy you. 

Harry became as violently obsessed with you as you did him and even though it was a hell of a trip to see you, he did so as often as possible. He couldn’t help himself. Not when he had such a pretty girl waiting to please him and take care of his heart, body and soul. You filled the hole in his life in all aspects, which is what he feared would happen when he saw you that very first night. 

Someone so magnetic would ruin him and he was enjoying every moment of it. 

You had no idea he traveled from the main city just to see you until you two started sleeping together. He continued stopping by for a coffee or to disturb your lunch break but very quickly, your time spent together turned into an after hours activity. He’d come to get fixed up and then he’d ruin you. Or… his sole intention was to ruin you all along. 

There were many sleepless nights because of him. Not that you minded. He opened up to you more and told you more about himself and what he did. When you started to learn small things, you realised that he was probably right in you being better off left in the dark. It was a lot more elaborate than you could’ve imagined and it made sense why he did so much to keep you protected. 

Running an elaborate drug smuggling operation wasn’t exactly the safest job out there, nor did it give you much opportunity to switch careers. Somehow, though, you weren’t deterred by it. Maybe it was because you were already in love with him the second he ruined you for the first time. 

His high job security didn’t stop you from fantasising about a different life with him. Harry leaving that life for you. The only part of the job Harry liked was the financial stability and the power. The control he had. But you felt like Harry was destined for so much more, that he could live a much happier, safer life. With you. 

“Have you ever thought about running away?” You asked, playing with his long hair. It was unruly and sweaty and you were threading your fingers through the knots formed from the midnight hookup. You were still hot and sweaty too, but Harry quite liked the sticky feeling of your skin and the lingering scent of sex in the air. 

“Running away? I couldn’t.” Harry breathed through a laugh like it was unfathomable. “You couldn’t either.” He looked up from his work, reaching for your hand to bring it to your mouth to kiss your knuckles. “You’ll be a nurse soon and you’ve always had your heart set on Mercy. You’ll get a job there and it’ll be everything you want.” He smiled softly, guiding your hand back to his hair so you’d play for it while he finished the artwork on your upper thigh. 

The thin marker was steady in his hand and he only had one letter left before the piece was complete, not that four letters took a particularly long time to write. But he wanted it to be perfect, for the permanent marker to last as long as possible on your pretty skin. You’d never do it permanently, after all you were still his good girl and no good girl would be as rogue as to get her lover's handwriting tattooed on her thigh after only a few months. Or ever. Permanent marker and baby powder always did the trick to make a design last a while, though, and Harry hoped it would still be there the next time he snuck through your window. 

“I want you, Harry.” You whispered, finding his concentration both adorable and so damn sexy you were getting all worked up again. If he looked a little to the left to where your bare cunt was so so close to his fingers, he’d probably be able to tell too. “And the good thing about being a nurse is I can do it anywhere. I can…” you swallowed your nerves, unsure what his reaction would be to your suggestion. “I can work anywhere and-”

“It wouldn’t work, y/n.” He interrupted curtly, leaning back to observe his work while putting the cap back onto his pen. Harry rarely used your name, he was too fond of his pet name for you. “You will always be mine. Always. But I think we both know that what we have is temporary.” Your heart broke at his words and you felt the pain fizzle through your body like a burning liquid. He looked up at you as he blew on the temporary tattoo. “When I inevitably break your heart, bunny, you’ll move on and find someone who can love you the way you deserve. I’ll never move on from you, but you will and you’ll be happier for it.”

“That’s not true.” You all but whimpered. Harry ignored your plea, tapping against your skin to test whether the marker was dry. “You always say that you’ll break my heart, Harry but that’s not true.” He looked up at you for a moment, trying to hide the heartbreak he felt at seeing how sad you were. Grabbing the little bottle of baby powder, he sprinkled it over the little word, massaging the surrounding area of your leg. “I… I love you and I know you love me. If you loved me you wouldn’t hurt me.” 

“Bunny, I love you more than anything else on this planet.” He assured, shifting up onto his knees in all his naked glory. He spread his hands over your belly, rubbing his thumbs a little harder into your skin. “I would never do anything to hurt you but this life… it follows me wherever I go. There’ll be a time where I need to sacrifice my love and happiness to protect you. But you’ll always be mine. Until the day I die.” He smiled softly, looking back down to the pile of powder on your upper thigh. He ran his thumb over it, rubbing away from the white substance and leaving the matte four-letter word. 

Mine. 

“See?” He smirked, looking down at the ‘tattoo’, “I can’t promise you forever, bunny. But I can promise you that I’ll be yours at least until this fades. Who knows what could happen by then.”

You sat up, pressing your hands behind you on the bed for balance as you looked at his artwork. There was something so sexy about being branded like that, even if it was temporary. Your otherwise empty skin now looked complete with his mark there. In his handwriting. 

What other sign could be more clear that you belonged to him than his handwriting on your thigh stating just that? 

“I love it.” You whispered, tracing over the cursive letters. “Will you be back?” You settled on asking, pausing for a moment, “before the tattoo fades?” 

That was one thing that troubled you about your relationship with Harry. The fact that you never knew when you’d see him again. You both openly professed your love and obsession for each other and yet you didn’t go on dates or text or call. Harry just showed up. 

He told you it was to keep you safe. It was the very same reason he snuck through your window instead of knocking on your front door. There was less chance of anyone finding out about you. Whoever ‘anyone’ was. 

Harry nodded. “I should be. I’ve got a job this weekend though so it might not be for a little longer than usual.” He plastered a soft smile on his face to calm you and reached out to cup your face. “Better make sure it’s still here when I get back. Okay, bunny? Unless you want me to mark it on your skin another way.” That smile tilted to a smirk, promising you foreplay that both of you knew would have you begging him for release. 

This time you nodded, “I’ll be good f’you.” 

Shit. 

“Good girl, Princess.” Harry cooed, looking down briefly at his own cock, already hardening even after filling your mouth and pussy with his cum. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your naked body was so gorgeous and now marked with his handwriting. “now c’mere.” 

You smiled, shifting up on your knees to join him halfway in a searing kiss. It was nearly 2 am already but you knew that you wouldn’t get any sleep at all. 

The days that followed were restless. You kept looking at those four letters on your thigh and thinking of all the things you had and hadn’t done together. The many trysts you shared with hushed conversations and messy top lip kisses. How his hands felt on your body and his lips on your skin. 

You had no idea how long it would be before he came to the cafe or broke into your apartment again. There was no word from him or rumour that he was passing through town. The shadows that liked to drift in and out became known the moment they visited more than once and Harry… well he had become a regular now. 

The next time Harry snuck into your apartment, bordering on an entire week after he wrote ‘mine’ on your upper thigh, you were ready. You weren’t sure why you knew because sometimes you had no idea until you felt his presence in your bed. Mouse didn’t even meow or run in fear when he entered through the window anymore, making his entrance sometimes as silent as wind whistling through an empty street. 

But tonight… you knew. 

There was a shift in the room temperature and a lingering scent of tobacco in the air that had your core clenching just at the thought of him visiting you. Of him seeing the surprise you had for him. It was all in your head of course, a delusion brought on by obsession. Still… you knew. 

And just like clockwork, you heard the sound of your window sliding upwards just past midnight. He thankfully hadn’t broken the glass since the first night, but for him to just slink in you had to keep the window unlocked. Before meeting him you obsessively checked every lock on every window and your front door every night, fearing that one of the shadows coming through town would try and hurt you.

You’d think that getting involved with someone like Harry would make that fear worse and yet… it didn’t. Somehow you felt safer. Harry once made a passing comment about keeping an eye on you, that he always knew if you were alright. He didn’t have to elaborate for you know that meant he had hacked into security cameras or had someone he trusted watching your apartment at all times. 

6-months-ago-you would’ve been creeped the fuck out. Scared for your life that you’d allow one of the shadows to get you so hooked on him, you’d let him have a security guard of sorts around you 24/7, or even just the fact you let him so casually break into your apartment. It made total sense to you somehow because with all the theatrics and abnormal parts of your relationship came the love and happiness you got when you saw him.

Even though it was most likely your lover opening your window, you still fished for the knife under your pillow, now replaced with something pink and shiny and far more deadly. Harry decided that if you were going to protect yourself, you needed something more dangerous than a serrated kitchen knife. You treasured that pocket knife and you and Harry have had a lot of fun playing with it. 

“Harry?” You whispered, creeping down your hallway. 

“It’s just me, bunny.” His voice echoed, low and husky. 

You smiled, rushing out to find him pushing your window back down and locking the latch. His hair was pulled back into a bun, sitting messily at the back of his head and he was wearing his classic leather jacket and dark jeans. God, you had missed him. 

“You really need to start locking your window, y/n.” Harry drawled, turning around to face you. “A madman might try to break in and hurt you.” 

You giggled, throwing your pocket knife on your rug carelessly to pounce on him. Literally. He smiled and caught you easily, letting you wrap your legs around his hips while your arms wrapped around his neck. 

Your mouths joined almost instantly, lips brushing against lips in a heated exchange. You threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged until his bun came loose and his hair fell to his shoulders. He groaned at the feeling and ran his tongue against the seam of your lips, nibbling down on your bottom lip. 

“I missed you, madman.” You whispered once your lips broke, shifting in his arms. His hands supported your bum, squeezing while he devoured your mouth once more. His body was sore from his weekend job, but he’d never let that get in the way of having his girl in his arms. 

“I missed you too, bunny. So much… I couldn’t breathe without you.” He murmured, setting you down with a little wince. You noticed it immediately and ran your hands over his face, angling his head around to look for any injuries. He wasn’t bruised on his face for once, but you knew he was hurting somewhere. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?” The questions came out spitfire, making Harry smile down at you and set his hands on your hips. Your eyes found a dried substance at his collar and you recognised what it was immediately. “Is that blood?”

“Not mine.” He assured, “I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry.” 

You ignored his assurance and started running your hands over his chest, looking for any sign of pain or visible jerk out of tenderness. When your fingers grazed his lower abdomen, he couldn’t hide the clench of his jaw. You glared up at him, pressing harder against the spot so he’d feel a little payback for lying to you. 

Harry groaned and dug his fingers into your hips, ensuring it was hard and painful enough to leave a bruise. You didn’t mind though, in fact, you quite liked it. 

“Jesus Harry, you got shot!?” Your eyes widened when you tugged up his t-shirt to find a bloody gauze. You knew what it was immediately. You had seen your fair share of bullet wounds in your work placements at the hospital as well as the dodgy ways they tried to mend them themselves. “When did this happen?” You decided to peel off the gauze to see the wound for yourself, not trusting the temporary mend he had done. The wound had been stitched up quite well actually, but it was inflamed and a few stitches had broken. It needed to be mended.

“Did it go all the way through? Is the bullet still in here? Why didn’t you tell m-”

Harry interrupted your second spitfire of the evening by pressing his lips to yours. It was quick to shut you up, especially when he slid his tongue against the seam of your mouth and dominated his way in. His tongue slid against yours, tobacco and whiskey heavy in the kiss. 

You whimpered against his mouth, almost forgetting about the bullet wound until you felt its blood soak your fingertips. Pulling back, Harry tried to chase your mouth, needing you violently. Insatiably. He had missed your soft skin and your delicious mouth and especially missed your sweet sweet pussy. One he had a severe craving for. He could almost taste it on his tongue. 

“Bathroom. Now. Your stitches are busted.” You pushed your finger to his chest and he easily backed away. He was completely whipped by you, willing to do anything you told him. 

“Alright, bunny. You’re the boss.” He murmured, shrugging his jacket off to dump it on the couch before following you to the bathroom. You both followed the same routine as always. He sat on the closed toilet seat and you readied your supplies to treat his wounds. 

“Top off.” You instructed, using a lighter to sanitise the end of the needle you threaded already. 

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled softly, stifling a groan as he grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt off his head. “You’re feisty when you’re mad.” 

“You shouldn’t have lied to me.” You shot back, sanitising the scissors next with your betadine. 

“It’s just a bullet wound, bunny.” He tried to soothe, watching you approach him and rub the wound with betadine in preparation to cut his original stitches and do new ones. “Didn’t even go straight through me.”

“So the bullet’s still in there? Jesus, Harry. Why didn’t you go to the hospital? I’m not equipped to remove a fucking bullet in my bathroom.” You snapped. 

“It’s not in there, y/n. One of my boys removed it, okay?” He chuckled softly, both loving and hating how worried you were. He reached up to cup your face, “I’m fine. The only thing wrong with me is a busted stitch.” 

You ignored him, keeping your glare strong on your face. His hands dropped to his knees and he remained completely still while you worked on the wound. He hated that permanent crease on your brow and all he wanted to do was make it go away. 

“What’s wrong?” He nudged, poking at your leg when you stayed completely silent. You were in your usual oversized t-shirt, underwear combination, but this particular t-shirt was long enough to cover your bum and the tops of your thighs. “C’mon bunny, talk to me.” 

“You’re distracting me.”

“And you’re ignoring me. I don’t like when you’re cross with me.”

“Well I don’t like being left in the dark for an entire week and when you show up you’ve been shot.” You snapped, pulling the needle tighter than you’d usually do to make a knot, just so it hurt a little more. He clenched his jaw, but he was more concerned about you than the temporary pain of his stitches. “What if you died Harry? Then what? I would’ve…” you looked away to grab the scissors, trying to blink away the tears. When you returned, his gaze was soft. “I would’ve never known. You would’ve left me and I… I’d never know.”

You couldn’t even focus on his wound with how hard your hands were shaking. You managed to cut the excess thread, but the moment it was done Harry pulled the scissors and needle out of your hand and brought your shaking ones to his. 

“Y/n, I’d never do that to you. Never.” Harry scanned your face, reaching up to cup you to get you to look at him. “I didn’t mean to scare you, bunny.” He wrapped his hand around the nape of your neck, gently pulling you down to rest your forehead against his. “I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” You agreed, unable to stop a few tears streaming down your cheeks. “You’re an asshole.”

“I am.” He nodded, trying to kiss you until you turned your head away from him. “I fucked up. I’ll never, ever do that again. Never.” He promised, tipping his forehead to your cheek while threading your fingers to press your hand against his racing heart. “My heart belongs to you forever.”

“I’m yours, Harry.” You promised, pulling back to wipe your tears away and get the bandage to cover his wound. He sighed and grabbed your waist instead, pulling you closer between his legs so you wouldn’t go too far. “But I need… I need something. I can’t keep waiting for you to show up with nothing in between. I can barely sleep when you’re not here.”

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll get a burner. Untraceable. Just for you and me.” He suggested, “You’ll never go a day without hearing from me again.” It was a promise. An oath. He never wanted to be the cause of your tears again, even if he knew he would be. It was why he didn’t want to keep your hopes up about a future, even if he wanted it more than anything in the entire world. 

“You promise?” You asked, running hands over the placed bandage to seal it in place. He nodded, looking up at you with a soft smile. You hated how easy it was to forgive him. But you loved when he looked at you like that. Like you were his entire world. 

“I promise. Cross my heart.” He murmured, running his hands over your waist and hips, “now will you stop being mad at me and give me a kiss?” 

Harry stood up, overpowering you with his height. Using one hand on your waist, he nudged you against the basin and used the other hand to cup the side of your neck. His gaze was dark, eyes blazing with a need to please and be pleased. He was hungry for you, just like he was since the moment he got on his bike to drive down to see you. 

“Please, bunny. Let me make it up to you.” 

All you could do was nod. 

Harry was easy to succumb to your influence, easy to follow instructions and do whatever you wanted. But he was just as easy to overpower you, to dominate you. To get you reduced to nothing but a whimper and a nod of your head. 

He was quick to duck in and clasp your lips together. It started slow and steady, a languid dance of your mouths that turned into something far more passionate. It always did. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair to move your face in the direction he wanted while he nibbled on your bottom lip and slid his tongue against the seam of your mouth. 

You let him in easily, loving the slow, deliberate slide of his tongue against yours. That familiar tobacco mint flavour was heavy in the kiss, a mix of the cigarette he no doubt had before climbing up the fire escape and the mint gum he liked to chew on to try and curb the habit. It never did work, but you liked the taste of him trying to stop the nasty addiction.

You pulled him closer by his hips, digging your fingers into the slight pudge just above his belt. It was one of your favourite parts of him to kiss, to bite. You had dug your teeth in it so many times Harry was tempted to get a tattoo of your bite so he could remember the feeling of your teeth sinking into him forever. 

“Wanna taste you, bunny.” Harry groaned, tucking his hand under your shirt to fiddle with the band of your lace underwear. Your hips bucked up to meet the touch, desperate to get him doing more than just play with your underwear. “Missed the sweet taste of you on my tongue.” He kissed you softly, dragging your bottom lip back between his teeth until he released it with a pop. “Always dream of it when I’m away.”

“I guess what’s one way to apologise.” You breathed, sighing when he pinched your thigh. He tucked his hands under your ass, hoisting you up so you’d wrap your legs around his hips. 

“Mhmm. I’d happily die apologising to you. Over and over.” He had this smirk playing on his lips, but you didn’t particularly find it funny. 

“Don’t talk about dying.” You reprimanded softly, playing with his hair while he carried you to your bedroom. 

“Not even if it’s death by your sweet pussy?” He grinned, lowering you onto the bed. You shuffled upwards, rolling your eyes as he knelt on the bed to hover over you. 

“For someone who gets shot for a living, you have the humour of a 13-year-old boy.” 

“And you don’t like that?” Harry raised his brow, grinning while leaning in to kiss you. You hummed into the kiss, tugging on his hair until his groan rumbled into your mouth. He pressed his weight against you, ensuring you felt every inch of his arousal for you.

He could feel yours right back. How wet you were, how warm your pussy was pressed right against his jeans. You had properly soaked through your lacy underwear and Harry could feel his jeans slowly dampen from the way he was grinding his hips against you. It was heaven. He could hardly wait to get his mouth on your sweet little cunt, especially when you were already so worked up for him. 

“Your humour is only funny…” you paused to gasp, head tilting back so Harry could nip down along your neck. “…sometimes.”

“And you’re sexy all the time.” He murmured, simultaneously pushing your oversized t-shirt up while kissing downwards. He ran his hands over every inch of exposed skin, pushing the shirt above your breasts so he could clasp his lips around one of your nipples. 

You took the shirt off immediately, whimpering and bucking your hips to meet his while you scratched at his back. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud, tugging and sucking hard enough to make your head spin. While he assaulted your nipples, his hands ran over your belly and hips down to your thighs spread wide underneath him. It was only when his fingers crawled to your very inner thigh ready to tease you through your underwear that he felt the thin film of plastic.

“What’s this?” His movements stopped immediately as he felt over the thin plastic film. You whimpered at the sensitivity, feeling particularly sore after your adventure yesterday. 

“I did something and you can’t be mad…” You breathed, watching him sit back on his haunches. 

His eyes widened when he got a better look, resting his hand on your thigh while he ran his thumb over the four little letters now permanently marked on your skin. Harry was no stranger to tattoos, he was practically covered in them. But the last thing he ever expected was for you to make your temporary tattoo last longer by making it permanent.

His handwriting. His claim. Harry permanently etched on your body forever. 

“Bunny…” Harry murmured, looking between you and the tattoo. “What did you do?”

“You said you couldn’t promise me forever but you could give me until the tattoo fades…” His eyes focused on you and you felt yourself already becoming pliant just with the dark look on his face. “...now it’ll never fade.”

He said nothing for a moment and just stayed staring at your tattoo. His eyes drifted upwards ever so slightly to where your pretty lace underwear was pressed snugly to your pussy. Then he looked further upwards to your soft belly and your perky tits and finally… to your face. Your pretty eyes and your lips, the lips he loved to kiss more than anything. 

Harry was back over you in an instant, cupping your jaw while kissing you like he was ravenous for it. You whimpered into it, tugging on his hair until your lips parted in a gasp. 

“Can’t believe you did that, bunny. Got a fucking tattoo so I’d be stuck to you forever.” He murmured, smushing his mouth to yours again. “That was the plan, wasn’t it? Force my hand so I’d be yours forever.” He started to kiss back down your body again, making sure his tongue pressed against your skin with every touch. 

“I love you. I want… I want to be yours forever.” You whimpered, watching him settle between your spread legs with an evil smirk on his face. 

“And you thought a tattoo was the right choice? Hm? You thought letting some other man permanently alter your body was the way to go?” He dipped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, tearing the lacy material in two. He was completely rough with it, making sure it ached as he pulled torn pieces off your body. 

“It wasn’t a man. She… shit.” You couldn’t even find the words, not when he spread you wide and stared at you like you were some fine dessert. 

“You think that makes it better, bunny? You think who did the tattoo makes a difference?” He raised his brow, running both his thumbs up your outer labia to tease you. 

“I told you not to be mad.” You whined, pressing your hands to your face. 

“I’m not mad. I think this is quite possibly the hottest… most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You peeked through your parted fingers, looking down at where he was looking up at you, spreading his hands to kiss at the thin layer of plastic. “So fucking sexy.” Harry murmured, looking down at it in awe. 

“So why do you sound mad?” You whispered, looking down at him.

“I’m not mad you got a tattoo, I’m mad I wasn’t there. Didn’t I always say I wanted to be there for your first one?”

“Well yes but-“

“And didn’t you promise me that I would be?”

“Yes…” you swallowed thickly. He was speaking at you in such a condescending way. Like you were a child being taught a basic lesson for the first time. It was belittling. 

It turned you on in such a feral way. He could even mansplain anything and you’d be happy to play into it. As long as he sounded like that and wound up between your thighs afterwards he could speak to you however he liked. 

“So you went against your word, hm?” He smirked as your thighs trembled on either side of his shoulders, your body growing more and more sensitive and needy as he started tracing over your pussy. 

“I guess so.”

“Do I go against my word? Have I ever broken a promise before?” 

“Yes.” You tried to defend, knowing very well he always stuck to his word. Harry had never broken a promise to you. Not when he told you he’d be back in three days or when he didn’t know but promised he’d return to you safely. He always kept his word. 

To be fair though, it was hard to stay clear-minded when he was caressing your pussy like it was something cute to pet. It wasn’t. And with every stroke of his fingers, every slide through your crease to spread your arousal up to your clit before coming straight back down like he didn’t even know what a clit was, your mind was spiralling. He was killing you. 

“Oh really?” He nudged a finger to your entrance, pressing just hard enough to slip the very top inside of you. You always were the most sensitive at your g-spot then right here, at the very beginning where all your nerves were alive and your pussy was clenching around nothing because you needed something inside. Specifically Harry’s cock. “Tell me. When?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your clit and finally slid his finger inside of you, eliciting the prettiest whine. 

“Um… Uhh…” You couldn’t speak or think with his tongue slowly sliding over your clit now. He traced languid circles and waves, taking complete control and doing it all at his own pace. Harry was tasting you for his own pleasure more than he was yours, even if he did love the way you came for him. 

“Exactly.” He smirked, “So let me take my time with you. I’m owed that, aren’t I?” 

“I thought you were meant to be apologising to me? This feels like an unfair system. A bullet wound is more serious than a tattoo.” You complained, sliding your hands into his hair to try and drag him closer to you. 

After being away from him for so long, one of the longest times apart since you started dating-or whatever you two were, all you wanted was to feel him. You wanted his pleasure and the weight of his body on top of you. Teasing wasn’t fun when you were apart more than you were together.

You prayed that would change after the gesture you made. The permanent commitment to him. 

“Which one is permanent?” He grinned lazily up at you.

“You could’ve died.” You argued.

“But I didn’t. Now will you stop complaining otherwise I’m more than happy to stop. It’s been a big day I could easily go to sl-”

“No!” You jumped a little too quickly, making him laugh and press spongey kisses against your inner thighs. “No… no, please. I’ll take whatever you want. I’ll be good.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, pressing his fingers into your fresh tattoo. You gasped, clutching his hair tighter in your hands. “That’s what I like to hear, pretty girl. Besides, I think letting me take my sweet time tasting you is the best punishment out there. Don’t you think?” 

Harry pressed a few chaste kisses along your thighs, feeling just how tense you were. You were clenching around his finger and holding onto his hair tight so he wouldn’t move away. But he couldn’t have you so tense… he needed you to relax.

“Calling it a punishment scares me…” you whimpered, feeling his tongue slide over your clit in a sloppy figure-eight pattern. 

“mh… just relax, bunny. Stop thinking and let me take care of you… you’re my girl, aren’t you? My sweet, delicious girl. My girl?” He ran his thumb over your tattoo, speaking right against your clit like he was talking to your pussy instead of you. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Then relax… you deserve to be spoiled after all you do for me…” Harry looked up at you, smiling as you forced your body to melt into the bed. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back when his mouth returned to your clit. He gently added another finger inside of you, curling them both into your g-spot in a steady stroke. They felt so deep inside of you, nowhere near as full of his cock but still so so good. 

The combination of his tongue and his fingers were driving you crazy, but he did them in such a relaxed, languid way that you knew it would take you ages to cum, if he even let you. 

“See? ‘S nice isn’t it?… you always take care of me, bunny. Always clean my wounds and take good care of m’cock… m’heart too…. Always make me feel so happy.”

“You make me happy too… scare me a lot too…” You sighed, fisting his hair as he grazed his teeth over your clit.

“I don’t mean to,” Harry murmured against you, kissing against your clit in an infuriatingly light touch. “Only want to make you feel good… feel safe…”

“You do… you do… just-fuck, please… More… Harder.”

He smirked at your begging, the whiny tone in your voice going straight to his cock. Barely a couple minutes into it and you were already getting desperate. Already tugging at his hair and starting to wiggle. 

He loved you like this because he had the ultimate control over whether or not he gave you what you wanted. At this point, it could go either way. 

“Not yet sweetheart, ‘m having too much fun just like this…”

Your back arched when he pressed his fingertips into your tattoo, purposefully digging into the soft skin. It was a small tattoo, tiny in comparison to half of Harry’s work but you had a relatively low pain tolerance and your very inner thigh was quite sensitive. It was torturous paired with the way his tongue softly stroked against your clit. 

“Please, Harry…” You begged once more, using your hands in his hair to try and drag him closer to you. You were writhing beneath him, desperate for something more than just light teasing shapes. You could barely handle it anymore. 

“Ah.” Harry tutted, slipping from your clit with a little pop of his lips. He grinned up at you, mouth and chin all soaked and dripping before pulling your hands from his hair to push them down on the bed beside you. It was possibly one of the most erotic things you had ever seen. “Y’know I like my hair pulled, bunny but if you keep pushing it, I’ll make sure you don’t cum at all. Let me enjoy you.”

“Okay…” You nodded quickly, hoping he wouldn’t stop altogether. “m’sorry. I’ll be good.” 

“Good.” 

Harry released your hands before grabbing a hair tie from his wrist and putting his hair up in a bun. God when he did that… it did unspeakable things to you. You watched him obsessively, frothing over the way his arms and chest stretched and flexed with every small movement. Up behind his head then back down to the bed when he settled between your thighs while staring at you with this triumphant fuckboy smile. 

“You’re so pretty, y’know that. So so pretty and all mine.” He murmured, tracing his finger through your crease while looking straight at your pussy with complete awe. Harry was fucking obsessed with you.

“Harry…”

“I know,” he sympathised, voice almost mocking at your flushed cheeks. He loved when you got nervous. “You’re so pretty when you blush, y/n.” He blew gently over your clit, sliding his two fingers back into you. 

Closing his mouth around your clit, he started pleasuring you again. He moved his tongue against you harder and curled his fingers into you with far more purpose than before. And finally, finally you were starting to feel that relief. It was exactly what you needed to start to feel that twist in your stomach and shake in your thighs… the rush before that euphoric release. Your toes were starting to curl and your fingers tightened into his hair, tugging so hard he had to dig his fingertips into your tattoo to ground himself from how desperate he was getting from his hair being played with.

“Oh god… I’m… ‘mgonna…”

And then the rush stopped, that spiraling wave freezing right before it tumbled over the cliff. Harry removed his mouth and halted his fingers, kissing over your thighs instead with an evil grin you could feel against your skin. 

“Harry” you protested, gasping while looking down at him. Your legs attempted to clam around his head and you tried to tug his mouth back to you but he easily overpowered you and used his arms to pin your thighs wide against the bed. 

“You’re cute when you’re desperate. Might be my second favourite look on you.” He bit down on your thigh, chuckling against your skin. 

“What’s the… what’s your favourite?” Your breathing felt laboured, skin already feeling a little sticky from being teased for so long.  

“When you orgasm… sometimes it’s when I’ve got you so far gone you’re fucking sobbing for me. Only like your tears when they’re because of m’cock.”

He was evil. 

Was it fucked up that knowing he liked to make you cry turned you on? 

“You’re so mean… you know I-oh” your words got caught in his throat, eyes fluttering closed again when he started tracing his tongue over your clit again. 

Harry started to tease you again, going back to that languid, gentle touching. He was enjoying every second of it too, moaning into you, using his spare hand to grab on your belly and your breasts. He pinched at your nipples before pressing against your tattoo, all to rile you up and build your orgasm again so damn slowly. 

Harry was nearly about to burst. You were so wet and so fucking sweet and though he loved having his face between your thighs for hours on end, it turned him on beyond anything else on the fucking planet. He had to keep focusing his mind elsewhere, on anything but the way your cream was coating his fingers and dripping down his palm, or how you were so fucking wet just one slide of his tongue through your crease echoed around the entire room. 

But then you got a little too sensitive, a little too desperate and tugged his hair so hard it slipped from the bun he did earlier. He was just as happy to punish you than he was to rest his face between your thighs. 

The pleasure stopped once more and you were flipped so fast onto your belly, you didn’t have an opportunity to try and wiggle away. He gathered your hands quickly in one of his so you couldn’t move and ignored your whine of his name. 

“I warned you once, y/n, and you didn’t want to listen…”

“Harry ‘m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise.” You protested, at Harry’s complete mercy. He pinned you to the bed with one hand, keeping your hands pressed to your lower back while he pulled his belt out of his belt loops. You wiggled beneath him, trying to get out of his tight grip only to be suddenly swatted with his belt over your ass.

You gasped at the sting, feeling the spot on your skin grow a heartbeat of its own. It was a warm spiced feeling, oozing down to your aching clit that Harry had teased all night. 

“You did this to yourself, bunny. I wanted to be nice and I wanted to enjoy your sweet little pussy but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Could you?” Harry looped the belt around your hands then tightened it with the buckle so it was snug around your wrists. He tugged at it just to be sure you couldn’t slip out before hovering over you to kiss you gently on your shoulder. 

“Okay?” He asked, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.” He whispered the praise against your shoulder, kissing the middle of your back on his way back to kneel behind you. 

Harry was quick to pull your ass up off the bed until your face was pressed to the duvet, giving him the perfect access to all your pretty holes. You were practically dripping. Already edged once with no relief and now he could just taste you and bury his face without having your hands in the way. His perfect girl.

“See…” He murmured, tracing his hands over your ass. “Isn’t this better? Now I can enjoy you in peace.”

You responded with a noise of indignation, squeezing your fists when he chuckled and spanked your ass in that same spot he whacked his belt. Your skin was pulled taught with the way your chest was pressed to the bed, making the sting heavier than usual. 

Even though you whimpered and your whole body jerked at the feeling of his palm on your ass, Harry knew you enjoyed it. Just like you enjoyed being tied up.

The only reason you protested having his belt around your hands was because you hated it like this. Behind your back or pinned to your sides or thighs. You didn’t like not being able to feel him, especially when you couldn’t see him either. With Harry always gone you just wanted to touch him as much as humanly possible when he was around him.

You always had a hand on him. In his hair or scratching his back or in his pocket or intertwined with his fingers. You just needed that touch. Craved it. And now it had been taken away.

“God, you taste so fucking good, bunny.” Harry groaned, spanking your ass roughly. He spread your cheeks wide, pulling back to spit right on your tight rim of muscles before he was sucking over your clit again. “Like a fucking dream.”

He groaned against you, nuzzling his nose right against your entrance to press just hard enough to dip into you. The way he used his entire face to pleasure you was completely feral. He’d be able to smell you for days and taste your sweet sweet arousal for hours to come. That’s exactly how he liked it. 

He was completely wrapped around your clit, sucking in that perfect rhythmic pressure he knew you liked. The same pressure that had you tumbling towards an orgasm within two minutes flat. Now he seemed to be doing the opposite of his torturous teasing. He was trying to make you cum and he was doing it in the messiest, most feral way possible. 

That was somehow more evil because you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t move your hands or grab his hair, not even hold his hand until he reached for you. With the tight grip on your hips, you were pinned in his grip. You didn’t mind though, because he was finally… finally giving you that delicious pleasure. 

You were hopeful, your entire body tense and trembling. Your mouth was gaped against the bedding, soft moans muffled into the material. Until your entire world crashed and burned when it all stopped. Again. 

“No. Harry...”

“Shh, it’s okay, bunny.” Harry pressed his mouth over your ass, sliding his fingers out of you to run through your crease to your clit. “Still green?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Then let’s keep going, shall we?”

You lost count at how many times he edged you. After five it all turned into a blur; a teary, stinging blurr where your mind was completely in the clouds and your body felt like it was melting into a puddle. You were completely heavy in the bed, legs sore and trembling and your arms aching after being behind your back for so long. 

Every touch was torture, every flick of his tongue or suck over your clit sent your mind into orbit. You needed to come so fucking badly but there was nothing you could do to get him to let you finish. He was happy to just taste you and lick you until you were reduced to a pile of tears and sore muscles on the bed.

“Please Harry… please I need it so bad… need y’cock so so badly…” 

It wasn’t the first time you begged for it, but it was certainly the first time you cried for it. You were crying softly against the bedding, wiggling and clenching around his fingers. Your nails were digging into your palms, trying to counteract the pressure your entire lower body was facing. 

“Yeah? Wanna give it to you, bunny. So fucking bad…” Harry’s cock had been painfully sore since your fourth edge, so fucking hard he got rid of all his clothes just for some relief. His jeans were pressing so tight against his cock, he could barely handle it. 

Harry was a sadistic fuck, though and he liked the pain. He liked being sore and he liked to edge himself so when he finally got inside you and got that ultimate pleasure, the entire experience was better. He liked it when he made you come multiple times, but there was something romantic about edging you until you cried then letting you finally come when he was deep inside you and about to orgasm himself. 

Simultaneous orgasms were a rarity, but Harry liked the challenge. Often it was him timing his with yours anyway. You were terrible at holding your orgasm, practically incapable of it. That’s why edging you was so fun… Harry had complete control over it. He knew the signs of your body reaching that point without you even verbalising it and knew the exact moment to pull away before you tipped over the edge. 

And even when you cried and it was sore, your colour remained green the entire time. 

“Got me so hard f’you… just need to make sure you really want it, huh?” Harry bared his teeth against your ass cheek, biting down on one of the spots his various spontaneous spanks had made their mark. Your ass was beat red at this point, covered in teeth marks and hand prints from Harry getting too damn excited. He knew it would be sore for a couple of days, but that’s what he wanted.

He wanted his memory on your skin… and now after your tattoo, it would be. Forever. 

The thought of that was exhilarating and one of the most terrifying things in Harry’s world.

“I do… I need it so bad, Harry. Feel so empty without you… so sore…” Your words all joined together, a slur of neediness and sniffled tears. 

“Oh, I bet, bunny…” He cooed, sliding his fingers out of you before sucking them clean. He then moved up on his knees behind you to gently undo the belt from your wrists. “Bet you’re so sensitive n’sore, aren’t you?” He threw the belt to the side, massaging your wrists in his hand to soothe the reddened skin.

You just nodded against the bedding, curling your fingers back to hold his hands. He sighed at the sight, leaning down to quickly kiss your fingers before rolling you on your back. 

“Aw, baby. Look at you all teary-eyed…” Harry cupped your cheek, letting your legs fall wide on the bed as he wiped the tears from under your eye. With his other hand, he grabbed his cock and guided it to your pussy, sliding the head through your folds. His teeth gritted at the sensitivity on his desperate cock and he was trying so hard to not lose all strength in his body just at that one little touch. He was the one desperate now.

“Y’look so pretty like this… fucking gorgeous you are…”

“Harry…” You sighed, holding onto his wrist with one hand while grabbing his hip with the other. Just the feeling of his cock through your folds was heavenly, a sign that you’d finally get to come. 

“I love the way you say my name, pretty girl. Like a fucking angel… shit”

His hand slid down your face to your neck, looping around it in a loose hold while he pressed his tip to your entrance and slowly eased his way in. Your pussy was so sensitive from all his teasing and he could tell too. Your cry was loud and your nails dug deep into his hip. He was addicted to the feeling. 

“Shit… oh god…” You whined out, head thrown back against the bedding. Your mouth was wide in a pant, chest heaving just at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you. His cock was always an adjustment… thick and long and fuck, every time you thought of it your mind went a little dizzy.

It ached to have him inside you without being edged so much and now it was like a hot fire in your womb. Your clit was aching, your belly was aching, and everything was so tightly strung all you wanted was just to be fucked. Even if you were more sensitive than ever, you just needed to be fucked hard into the bed. 

No teasing. Nothing. You just wanted him to fuck you until you came undone around him. 

“Fuck me… please, Harry just fuck me…” your words came in a rushed, desperate plea; your hips jutting to try and get him to move.

“Fuck, bunny. Got a filthy fucking mouth, don’t you…” Harry cursed, tightening his grip around your neck. “I’ll fuck you, alright. I’ll give you exactly what you want…”

He started rocking his hips against you, wasting no time to get to a steady, bruising pace. It was hips snapping against hips, your thighs wide on the bed while he used his hand around your neck for balance. His balls slapped against your ass and his noises of pleasure were so goddamn erotic you knew you’d never forget the sound of them.

It was euphoric. 

“God baby, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me. And you’re all mine, aren’t you? All fucking mine…” Harry grunted, gritting his teeth to try and stop himself from finishing too fast. He was practically going to burst the moment his cock slid inside you. “And this…” He pressed his palm to your thigh, heavily running his thumb over your tattoo… “is so sexy… so fucking sexy…”

Neither of you seemed to care about the fact he had fresh stitches and a fresh bullet wound because the way he was fucking you was too good to care about something that could be so easily fixed. That pain in his abdomen did very little to stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved, even if that meant he’d have to sit through another angry stitching done by you.

Hopefully, this time you weren’t as angry or as rough with him… though he wouldn’t have minded if it meant he’d have you again like this.

You couldn’t even respond to him because it felt like your mouth had disconnected from your brain. Your body was so overstimulated that your mind could barely function. But you could drag him down with two hands on his jaw and kiss him. It was messy and uncoordinated but that didn’t even matter. All that mattered was that his body was on yours and you felt the closeness you had craved since the moment he tied your wrists behind your back.

“I love you… I love you so much…” You murmured, already feeling your orgasm approach again. It hardly took any time, not when he was fucking you so good and so hard. He felt deeper than ever before, so deep you could feel that deep pit in your stomach start to churn. It was a feeling that didn’t happen very often, but one both you and Harry reaped the benefits of. 

“I love you so much, angel. My love forever and always.” Harry groaned into your mouth, gathering your hands in his and intertwining your fingers together. He pushed on either side of your head, pressing them into the bedding as he started to kiss along your jaw and neck to get a bit of air. 

The dirty talk kept spilling out of his mouth, some coherent and others just desperate strung together sentences that made your head spiral and your pussy clench around his cock. He had a way with words, both in and out of the bedroom and it never failed to knock you to the fucking floor.

That deep churning in your pit only grew and started to press right against your clit. You could feel the pressure building and building until it felt like you were going to burst. Your clit was aching; a pinching white-hot pleasure beating from it like it had its own heartbeat.

“Oh… shit… shit. Harry… ‘m gonna… ‘m gonna squirt” The words barely got out, all thrown together in a loud cry right in his ear before you felt the damn burst from inside of you. 

It rolled over you in a crash. An initial euphoric crash of pleasure hitting your body from all angles. Waves and waves of pure ecstasy made your thighs tremble and your toes curl. Your whole body shook as the first spray of your arousal hit Harry’s lower belly and with every squirt after, another jolt of electricity.

“Shit baby. Good fucking girl. Fucking hell…” Harry cursed, grinding his hips against you to try and draw as much of your orgasm through. He felt it coat his cock and the hairs at his base, dripping down to his balls until it started to dampen the bedding beneath you. “Jesus, bunny. ‘M gonna cum… Can I?...”

“Want it… want it inside, please…” you whimpered, squeezing his hands tight as the pleasure started to die down to a low beat in your clit.

Harry’s mouth smushed against yours as he fucked himself once more inside of you, groaning against you as his body trembled above you. You could feel the hot bliss of his come filling you to the brim and the sudden weight of him on top of you when he let himself relax against your body.

“Shit, bunny…” He sighed, dropping his forehead to the crook of your neck. 

You were both exhausted. Your skin was damp and sticky and the bed below you felt exactly the same. It was a mess. You were a mess and yet you were the happiest you could’ve been. Sore muscles and a fire beating on your ass and fresh tattoo meant nothing compared to the fulfilment you had just being with Harry. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered after a moment of silence, resting his chin on your chest to look at you. He needed to collect himself before he checked on you so he was physically able to take care of you and provide whatever you needed. He definitely needed to have a shower or bath with you and rub some cream on your wrists and bum.

“I’m good,” You whispered back, smiling softly at him. “A little sore but so good… are you okay?”

“I’m perfect,” he smiled and softly kissed your sweaty skin, “can I pull out now?”

With a small nod, he gently pulled himself out of you and then started your normal routine. He went to get some water and a damp towel to clean you both up and then returned to clean you while you guzzled the entire thing. Some nights you two jumped in the shower straight away, but that was only if you weren’t going to have another round or were prepared to change the sheets at the same time.

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. After you went to the bathroom quickly you returned and you both curled into each other’s arms to have your usual pillow talk. It was your favourite part of sleeping together because it was often when the truth came out or you found out more things about him. You loved that.

“I still can’t believe you did this…” Harry murmured, looking down at the tattoo. He traced his fingers over it, looking at it obsessively.

“Was it too much? Be honest…”

“What?” Harry was a little taken aback and looked up at you with a furrowed expression, “Never. Fucking unexpected but I love it,” he reached up to grab your cheek and you immediately nuzzled into it, holding your hand over his, “I love you, y/n. I don’t say it often enough but I do. And I want you in my life, I just don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to keep you safe.”

“Let me come with you.” You responded, “next time you go back to the city, let me come. I want to see where you live and… I don’t know, maybe meet your friends? Or…” you felt a little embarrassed at the next words that came out of your mouth, but you weren’t exactly sure how else to say it, “work colleagues…”

Harry cracked the biggest fucking grin at how you phrased it, but he tried to not laugh so he wouldn’t embarrass you. “Alright. Tomorrow. I’ll take you back with me.”

“Tomorrow?” You blinked, not expecting him to just willingly agree like that.

“Yes. I don’t have a job until Thursday so we’ll have a couple of days together. But that’s only if you don’t have college or wo-”

“I don’t.” You interrupted quickly, knowing very well you did have university and work. Harry knew that too, he just wanted to see if you’d really skip a few days of responsibility for him. “I’d love to go.”

Harry smirked, nearly getting all worked up again at the thought of his angel skipping classes just to spend time with him. “Good…” He then cleared his throat and sat up so he could look at you, “I want you to have this.”

He removed his signature cross necklace from around his neck and motioned for you to sit up as well. “Harry… I couldn’t”

“You can.” He pressed, placing the necklace over your head. He eyed the way it fell right between your breasts and pulled your hair out from underneath it so it wouldn’t get tangled. “Always wear this, y/n. I mean it. The moment I take you into the city there will be people who care that you know me and they’ll use it against me.” Harry played with the cross between two fingers, rubbing his thumb over the front of it, “Wearing this… it’s a protection.”

“How?...” You whispered, looking between the necklace and his gorgeous green eyes.

“Because this-” his hand fell to your thigh, squeezing over the plastic film of your tattoo, “-tells me that you’re mine and this-” he grabbed the chain again, tugging it ever so slightly, “tells the entire fucking world.”

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[queers-gambit]

Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[subskz]

something new - l.mh

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub minho, dom reader, light body worship, biting, handjob, fingering (m receiving), light praise, begging, cum eating, reader’s sex is unspecified

word count: 4.1k

“Ow!”

Your squeak was immediately followed by the sound of Minho’s mischievous laughter, only growing louder as you turned to give him a glare. “Minho,” You huffed, gingerly rubbing the spot where he’d pinched your hand. “That hurt.”

He simply grinned, bunny teeth peeking out from behind his lips. The sight ebbed your annoyance a bit, and you settled for giving him a half-hearted swat before leaning back against him.

He had curled up next to you on the bed as the two of you attempted to solve puzzles on your phone together. In typical Minho fashion, he had to balance out the fact that he was feeling affectionate by bothering you as much as possible.

He’d been helpful initially, using his sharp wit to figure out the answers with ease, but as time went on, it seemed he became more interested in making your life difficult than actually contributing anything.

“Causing irritation or annoyance,” Minho read the next hint out loud. “Vexing.”

“Lee Minho.” You grumbled.

The comment earned you a sharp poke to the stomach, and you gritted your teeth to avoid giving him the reaction he wanted.

“Mmm...nope! Doesn’t fit.”

You wondered just how satisfying it would be to push him off the bed right then and there. Furrowing your brows, you reread the hint, racking your brain for possible adjectives to fill in the space. You’d gained plenty of points on the app already, but you still needed a few more to unlock the next level, and Minho’s presence had started to make that goal seem unachievable.

You stiffened as the man in question took hold of your hand—the same one that he’d pinched. “Don’t.” You warned, trying to yank it away. Minho puckered his lips into an irresistible pout, blinking at you innocently.

“Just wanna kiss it better,” He claimed, tone so sweet that you knew there had to be a catch. You eyed him doubtfully as he brought your hand up to his lips, giving the sensitive spot a peck.

There was a pause, and just when you thought it was safe to let your guard down, he stuck his tongue out and licked you.

Goosebumps immediately rose on your skin, and Minho snickered as you let out a disgusted groan. “Gross, Minho.” You complained, wiping the back of your hand on his shirt.

“What? That’s how cats heal wounds, y’know.” He pointed out proudly.

With that, a golden opportunity to get back at him presented itself. “Yeah?” You cooed, demeanor shifting. “Is Lino my little kitty?”

You jokingly brought your hand up to pet his hair, and Minho let out that fake, warning laugh of his that meant you were in danger. Deciding to push your luck, you scratched underneath his chin.

“Such a pretty kitty.” You praised, only pulling away with a panicked giggle when Minho’s jaws snapped in an attempt to bite you.

He managed to grab hold of your wrist in time, but instead of retaliating like you’d feared, he lined his fingers up with yours, big eyes sparkling playfully. “Mm...I have cuter hands than you, don’t you think?”

You barely restrained the urge to tease him again as you were once again reminded of how dainty they were. It was as if Minho had deliberately been blessed with the most delicate features imaginable to mask his troublesome personality underneath. You were certain that great care had been put into his design so that he was just endearing enough to get away with all his antics—a cat through and through.

“Obviously,” You hummed. “Everything about you is the cutest.”

Minho paused, clearly not expecting that sort of response, and the faintest tint of red crept up on his ears. His small fingers played with yours, brushing faintly against your skin.

“Yours are still nice, though.” He mumbled, almost to himself.

You watched Minho fondly, amused by how fixated he seemed to be on your hand all of a sudden. As he inspected it with a strange fascination, you took the chance to admire his side profile to your heart’s content. You took in his long lashes, your eyes following along the bridge of his nose right down to the adorable little freckle at its tip.

“What’s got you so interested all of a sudden?”

“I wanna try something new.” Minho announced.

He kept his eyes focused on your entwined fingers to avoid the look you gave him, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks redden to match his ears. When he made no effort to elaborate, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to continue.

Minho scrunched his lips to the side as if contemplating something deep and profound. You leaned a bit closer to him, studying his thinking face with growing curiosity.

“Don’t we…” He hesitated. “Y’know that new thing we got the other day?”

His attempt to sound nonchalant failed so spectacularly that you had to push back a smile.

“Mhm,” You played along. “You mean the thing that you suggested we buy?”

He made a face, not taking kindly to the reminder. There was another pause, long enough that you could tell he was struggling to figure out how to phrase his next words.

“I wanna use it.”

You tilted your head, fully aware of what he was trying to get at. “For?”

Though Minho held eye contact to the best of his ability, you didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears flared up, an undeniably deep red this time. His hold on your hand tightened in place of an answer, blinking rapidly through the silence.

Eventually, he gave up, realizing you weren’t going to let him off that easily. Huffing in defeat, he steeled himself.

“Wanna try fingering.” He deadpanned.

Your unsurprised reaction wasn’t lost on Minho. The fact that you’d seen right through him was both a source of comfort and unease. It was something he’d never quite gotten used to—having someone who could read him the way you did—and it filled his chest with a strange exhilaration.

“You feel ready?” You asked.

Minho nodded, searching your face for some sign of disapproval. “We don’t have to,” He said hastily, his burst of courage fizzling out. “Just thought it’d be...interesting to try.”

He trailed off awkwardly. His eyes averted again in a rare display of embarrassment, and you felt yourself soften.

“I think it’d be interesting, too.” You agreed playfully, unlocking your fingers to take his face into your hands.

Minho grumbled as you mocked his choice of words. Despite that, his earlier resistance was nowhere to be found when you squished his cheeks together, making his lips pucker.

“Lino’s so curious,” You murmured. “You really are just like a kitten, hm?”

He mustered up the most threatening glare he could, but his flushed cheeks and wide eyes betrayed him. You smiled when he said nothing, choosing instead to pout as his face grew hotter under your touch. It wasn’t often that you were able to catch Minho flustered to this degree, and you were determined to make the most of it.

“Can we?” He breathed, voice even softer than usual.

You leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose, and you felt him relax. “Whatever my baby wants.” You said sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

Minho gave a small half-smile, and you patted his cheek before slipping off the bed to make your way over to your closet. With a bit of digging around, you were able to find the thing in question–that being, a bottle of lube. It was still unopened, purchased on a whim just like many of Minho’s other sudden objects of interest.

You’d learned very early on that experimenting was a given when it came to Minho. He wanted to try anything and everything at least once, often dropping new ideas on you with little to no warning. Whether it was done to catch you off guard or just his capricious mind at work, you weren’t sure, but judging by how shy he’d get after each blunt request, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just attempting to mask his own apprehension.

Knowing how impatient he could be, you made quick work of retrieving the bottle, washing your hands, and returning to the bedroom. There, you found Minho squirming slightly on the mattress, looking adorably lost. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and you smiled warmly as you joined him on the bed.

He watched intently as you opened the bottle of lube, his dark eyes locked on the object. “This’ll make things easier for both of us,” You reassured him. “Wanna make sure I can slide into you just fine, yeah?”

Minho let out a small whine of embarrassment, and you couldn’t hide how delighted you were to see him so easily flustered. Once you’d removed the plastic film from its cover, you placed the lube on the nightstand and leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. He instantly melted into it, humming into your mouth.

When you pulled away, some of the unease in his eyes seemed to have disappeared, and you nuzzled your nose against his. “No need to be nervous.” You reassured him. “We can stop any time you want, okay?”

At that, Minho’s lips curved into a small smirk, showing a glimpse of his usual self. “If you do a good job, we won’t have to.”

You pulled away with a click of your tongue. Normally, you’d scold him for mouthing off like that, but you knew that his teasing was just an attempt to calm himself down. “Keep talking,” You dismissed. “Let’s see how smart you are once I’m inside you.”

Minho was thankful there was no way for you to catch how your words made his heart jump. When you motioned for him to lay down, he obeyed without any further remarks. He shuffled back on the bed, resting his head down against the pillows and spreading his legs for you. You adjusted your own position so that you were between his thighs, and your hands found their way to the hem of his shirt.

Minho’s breath hitched as you tugged on it without warning, sliding the garment up so that his stomach was exposed. You watched the way it rose and fell as his breathing picked up, overtaken by the urge to plant a kiss on the soft skin. You did exactly that, earning a squeak of surprise from him.

“Such a pretty boy.” You mumbled, pressing another kiss right above his belly button.

He grumbled half-heartedly as you peppered kisses along his tummy, paying special attention to his surgical scar when your lips passed over it. You opened your mouth against his skin, moving further and further down his abdomen and leaving wet marks wherever you went. The plush heat made Minho shiver, and it wasn’t long before he was squirming beneath you again.

“T-tickles,” He complained breathlessly, letting out a quiet whimper as you grazed your teeth along his flesh. You smiled into your kisses before licking a long stripe down his stomach, only stopping when you reached the waistband of his pants.

Minho’s whole body jolted, and he made an unhappy noise, reaching out to paw at you. “Quit teasing me,” He whined. “You know what I want.”

“Be patient.” You mumbled, ghosting your fingers over his clothed length. “You’ve never done this before, let’s take it slow.”

You knew your words were the exact opposite of what Minho wanted to hear, and he made that apparent with another childish grumble. It was quickly silenced, however, as you began palming at his bulge.

Minho jerked up with a gasp, his eyes fluttering shut. You briefly admired the way his long lashes rested atop his cheeks before slipping your hands under the waistband of his pants. He immediately lifted his hips higher, far too eager to bother with giving you any trouble today.

You tugged his pants off along with his boxers in one smooth motion. As his length came into view, you felt a tinge of pride noticing that he’d grown half-hard from your kisses alone.

Minho sighed as you began to stroke him slowly, both out of pleasure and frustration that you still weren’t giving him what he wanted. “You’re m-mean,” He stuttered. “Want you inside me already.”

“But look how much your pretty cock is twitching,” You purred, relishing in the dissatisfied whimper he let out. “It’s just begging me for attention.”

You ran your thumb over his slit, gathering some of the precum that had accumulated to spread along the rest of his length. The sensation made Minho’s thighs quiver, and he bucked his hips up in a wordless plea for more.

With a tsk, you flattened your other palm against his stomach, pushing him back down against the mattress. The added pressure of your hand spiked his pleasure more than he’d like to admit, and he couldn’t hold back the sharp gasp that escaped him.

“Since when are you this desperate, Lino?” You teased, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“You’re just—hah—as excited as m-me.” He retorted.

Minho grimaced over how unsteady his voice sounded, and he felt his face burn hotter when you simply laughed in response.

“Am I?” You drawled. “Say it without stuttering and I might believe you.”

You didn’t bother waiting for an answer, instead rolling your palm around the head of his dick to make him cry out. He was fully hard now, and you pumped his length a few more times before releasing him from your grip all at once.

A low protest escaped Minho as you did, as if the bliss of your hand had already made him lose sight of what he’d been vying for.  

“Relax,” You shushed him. “I’m gonna give you what you want so bad now.”

Minho’s eyes were dark with arousal when he blinked them open. His usual mischief was nowhere to be found as he gazed up at you, watching anxiously while you reached over to retrieve the lube from your nightstand.

You squeezed a generous amount onto your index and middle finger, lathering them with the slippery substance. Once they were thoroughly coated, you settled back between Minho’s legs, and he instinctively spread them wider for you. “I’m gonna start with just one, alright?” You told him gently, bringing your middle finger to prod at his entrance.

Minho hissed at the cold, unfamiliar feeling, his whole body tensing up. “Right.” He managed through gritted teeth.

You placed your other hand on his thigh and slowly began to slide your middle finger inside of him. He sucked in a sharp breath, instantly tightening around you.

“Loosen up, babe.” You ordered softly, rubbing delicate circles into the skin of his thigh. “If you’re that tense it’s gonna be uncomfortable.”

Minho swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut as he nodded. You waited patiently for his body to relax before sliding the rest of your finger in, paying close attention to the cute hiccups he let out the deeper you inched.

Once you were fully inside, you gave him a few moments to adjust, kneading his flesh with your other hand in an attempt to soothe him. “Do you feel alright?” You checked.

He struggled to compose himself before responding. “Mhm,” He breathed. “Weird...but not bad.” Minho clenched around your finger as he spoke, still getting used to how it felt pressing against his walls.

“Just let me know if it gets to be too much.” You murmured, beginning to pull out bit by bit.

“I can take it,” He assured you. His confidence was instantly overtaken by the broken moan that spilled out of him. Your eyes gleamed with amusement, and you paused for a moment before you pushed back inside of him, admiring the way his cock twitched as you did.

You began to pump your finger in and out tentatively, building up a smooth pace. Minho’s cries immediately burst into the room, the new, pleasurable sensation quickly clouding his mind and eliciting noises that made your stomach flip. His sweet sounds encouraged you to keep going, and you increased the speed of your movements, hungry for more of his reactions.

“Have you been dreaming about this for a while now?” You cooed. “Having my fingers inside of you?”

Minho gripped the bedsheets, his back arching sinfully. “Yes,” He mewled without hesitation. “Needed it.” His thighs started to tremble again, and you strengthened your grasp to steady him.

“So cute.” You hummed, digging your nails into the skin of his thigh. “You’re not as subtle as you think, angel.”

The pitiful groan that spilled out of him only emphasized your words. You curled your finger inside him, brushing along his prostate in a way that sent a ripple down his spine. Minho cried out your name sharply, a string of curses following soon after.

“Such a dirty mouth,” You frowned. “That’s not how a good boy talks, is it?”

Minho let out a whine in response, pushing his hips towards you in an attempt to recreate the delicious sensation he’d just felt. “Again,” He demanded weakly.

You clicked your tongue. Instead of complying, you brought your slick index finger to prod at his entrance, causing him to gasp. “Since you’re so desperate, I think you’ll have no problem taking another, yeah?”

Minho swallowed hard, trying to even his rapid breathing. “Y-yes...more.” He pleaded, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to brace himself. You trailed your index finger around his hole, amused by the way his squirming grew more and more restless the longer you dragged out the wait.

It wasn’t until he whimpered impatiently that you finally slipped it in to join your middle finger inside of him. Minho inhaled so quickly that he nearly choked, and it took all of his strength to keep himself from stiffening as you delicately stretched him out.

“You’re taking me so well,” You murmured, marveling at how your finger disappeared inside of him so smoothly. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Sh-shut up,” He stuttered breathlessly. The soft whimper that he let out as you spread your fingers inside him did little to help his case.

“Watch your mouth,” You warned. “Or I just might decide to stop.”

Minho blinked his eyes open in an attempt to scowl at you, his gaze hazy with lust. You held his stare with ease, unable to take him seriously when he looked so helpless beneath you. His hair was tousled from all his wriggling around, his face was flushed a pretty pink, and his swollen lips were parted as he panted heavily.

You moved your hand from his thigh to brush your fingers through his damp hair, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed. “Hah…‘m sorry,” Minho finally huffed, pressing his lower half against your hand to try and gain some friction.

Satisfied with his quick surrender, you gave his cheek a pat and began to pump your fingers once more. Minho let out a long, adorably high-pitched moan, and his cock spasmed against his stomach as the pleasure kicked in again.

You leaned down to press a kiss to his thigh, causing him to jolt in surprise. He instinctively tried closing his legs, and you pressed your hand down on his thigh to hold him in place. You hooked your fingers inside him as you worked your mouth, finding his sweet spot and earning a choked sob from the boy.

“Again,” Minho gasped, hips rocking subconsciously. “Again...please, please,”

You peppered more kisses along his thigh, smirking against his skin. “You sound so pretty.” You hummed. “Is it that good, baby?”

Before he could respond, you repeated the motion, curling your fingers and drawing out a whine that was positively sinful.

“Yes,” He moaned, his grip on the sheets becoming so tight that the veins in his arms protruded. “Love it—ah!—keep going, p-please.”

To hear Minho beg so openly sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you quickly complied with his plea. You bit down gently on his thigh, taking satisfaction in the way it made him shudder, and began to curl and uncurl your fingers at a steady pace against his sweet spot.

Minho’s airy cries grew more and more shameless, spilling out of him with little break in between. You pulled back from his thigh to catch a glimpse of his blissed out state, licking your lips as you drank in the sight of him.

He had bitten down on his bunched up shirt, but that didn’t stop the delicious sound of his moans from filling the room. More precum had gathered at the head of his dick, and it dribbled down onto his stomach, which rose and fell rapidly with every heave.

“So good,” Minho whimpered through the fabric, arching his back off the mattress. “Almost there—ngh—please.”

You continued to hook your fingers in just the right way as he clenched around you,, and when his cock began to jerk wildly against his stomach, you knew that he was close. You reached out to take a hold of his length with your free hand, ready to stroke him to completion, only for him to gasp out a protest.

“N-no,” He slurred. “Wanna c-cum from just this.”

Minho’s words sent a shiver down your spine, and a delighted grin made its way onto your face. “My baby really likes this, huh?”

You spread your fingers out in a scissor-like motion several times before going back to teasing his sweet spot. All it took was a few more skillful curls, and he was sent over the edge.

The sob that escaped Minho was unlike any you’d ever heard before. He bucked his hips up frantically, spilling onto his stomach as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed him. His seed shot out of him in several spurts, and you admired the way it decorated his skin.

You continued to finger him through his climax, eating up every spasm of his body and weak mewl of your name. When the last few drops of his cum had been emptied, you halted the movement of your fingers to allow him to come down from his high.

Minho’s whimpers gradually turned into slower, more controlled breaths, and the desperate expression on his face morphed into one of contentment. He relaxed under your touch, and you made sure to be gentle when you pulled your fingers out of him, admiring the way his hole gaped at the sudden loss.

A light tug at your shirt stopped you when you rose from the bed to retrieve a washcloth. You turned your head curiously to find Minho gazing up at you with that lazy, half-lidded look that he knew you couldn’t resist.

You softened. “I’m just getting a towel to clean you up.” You reassured him, trying again to pull away. He made no move to let go, however, and it was difficult to hold your resolve under his unwavering stare.

“So needy.” You sighed, unable to keep the fondness out of your voice as you flopped back down on the bed.

Minho grinned triumphantly before settling his head into your lap, not even trying to mask how hungry he was for your affection. He rested his cheek on your leg with a self-satisfied noise, and as you eyed his stained stomach, an idea came to mind.

He jumped when your fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of his tummy, scooping up his seed on your clean hand and bringing it to his lips. Minho let out a flustered whine, his ears quickly going red again. “If you’re not gonna let me clean you up, at least do it yourself.” You scolded.

Despite his embarrassment, he parted his reddened lips and took your fingers into his mouth. You felt goosebumps form on your skin as he licked them clean, his face scrunching up slightly at the taste of himself.

“How was it, Lino?” You checked. “Seems like you really enjoyed yourself.”

It was rare for Minho to try something out that he didn’t end up liking given his curious nature, but his reaction had been especially positive this time. So positive that you wondered if this may become a regular thing.

Minho swallowed as you pulled your fingers out of his mouth, letting out a shy hum. “Mmm,” He nuzzled his nose into your thigh. “I dunno.”

The playful lilt in his voice wasn’t lost on you, and you rolled your eyes when you noticed the corner of his lips curving up into a smirk.

“I think we need to test it out again, just to be sure.”

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: starstruck

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you’re an actress and you’ve got through a few auditions got your dream roll, the next thing that comes up is a chemistry test that doesn’t quite go as you had planned

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mild swearing, really intense make out session, mention of sexual tension

a/n: this is the jameson equivalent to paparazzi for grayson, thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

You sit alone at the bar, drinking a margarita. Your friend had bailed on you last minute but seen as you were already dressed up you decided to go anyway. Why waste all that effort? Besides you deserved this. Tomorrow is a big day, you needed some time to sit back, relax, enjoy some drinks and breathe. Mid sip of your margarita, you catch the eye of someone across the room. He has tousled dark hair, unruly yet it suited him quite well and striking green eyes. Those green eyes sent something through you, the ghost of a shiver down your spine that sent warmth into your body. There was something about those eyes… You quickly look away, not letting your gaze linger for too long, you need to stay focussed. You stare at your drink, your fingers subconsciously playing with the glass as you think about the future that may come if tomorrow plays out the way you would like it to.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

His voice is low and alluring and reels you in from deep thought. It might’ve made you jump, if you weren’t so fixated on where your mind was running off to. You look up to see it’s the man you’d made eye contact with previously. Close up, he looks even more attractive. Steady jawline, wicked smile, bold eyebrows, striking features. He is quite tall, even when he sits beside you it’s noticeable. He’s really very gorgeous and at any other point in your life, meeting a guy like him would’ve been perfect. But now wasn’t the time for guys, now was the time to focus on getting your career back on track.

“No thank you,” you say, a certain sharpness in your tone. You wanted to make it very clear you were saying no.

“Are you sure?” he asks, one of his dashing eyebrows raised a little.

Oh… so he was the stubborn type, this should be entertaining.

“I’ve got one,” you say, holding up your half-empty margarita.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he nods, ordering himself something. His drink arrives in a matter of minutes, that’s when he turns and says, “I couldn’t help but notice you from over there.”

His head jerks to where he had previously been standing. You decide you fancy playing with him a little, seeing how easy it’d be to break his cool, flirty facade. Some men needed to be humbled and he seems like one of them.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that,” you ask, expecting a delayed answer or not one at all.

“Because you’re breathtaking,” he answers almost immediately, staring into my eyes.

You’d expected him to fumble but he’d turned the tables. He’s bold and unafraid, vulnerability didn’t scare him. You searched for a witty, uninterested reply but your brain is still hooked in the compliment from this handsome stranger, “I’m not interested,” you blurt out. The words fall from your mouth without you even thinking.

“Straight to the point,” he coughs, his ego probably a little bruised, “that’s cute.”

“Don’t call me cute,” you scowl at him. No better way to deter a man than scowling, but he didn’t seem to be too deterred.

“I could make you interested you know,” he shrugs, “if you gave me a chance?”

“The smell of male desperation is so…” you take a moment to find the right set of words, “pathetically pungent.”

“Who says I’m desperate?” he asks, cocking his head to one side, a graceful yet annoying smirk plastered on his lips.

“I told you I’m not interested and yet you’re still here,” you reply cooly.

“I like challenges, call me a player of sorts,” he explains, “riddles, mind games, secrets, I love the lot.”

“Well here’s a riddle for you then… what has two eyes, a margarita in her hand and isn’t interested in you at all?” you force a sickly sweet smile.

“My great aunt,” he replies, smiling right back.

“I don’t think you’re as good at these riddles as you thought,” you criticise, taking another swig of alcohol.

“And I don’t think you’re uninterested,” he tells me, “body language speaks volumes sweetheart-“

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” you snap suddenly, raising your voice a little louder than you’d intended.

“You’re facing completely toward me, your posture is open, you’re looking directly at me and you occasionally scan over the rest of my body,” he says, “if you were uninterested that wouldn’t be happening. Not to mention our eyes kept meeting from across the room.”

You smile slightly and then swivel around on your chair so your back is completely towards him. You hunch over wishing you had some sunglasses to reinforce the no eye contact thing.

“How’s this for body language,” you call, not even looking over your shoulder to see his reaction.

“I much prefer looking at your face but the back of you is a perfectly nice view as well,” he says smoothly. Well, wasn’t that annoying.

Your cheeks heat up and you spin back around, “please leave me alone.”

“Alone…” he ponders, “not with anyone?”

“My friend is in the bathroom,” you lie quickly.

“She’s been there for a while,” he raises an eyebrow.

“And how would you know that?” you question, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

“Because I’ve watched you for a while,” he shrugs in response.

“You do realise that just makes you sound like a massive stalker-ish creep right?” you ask, trying not to laugh a little.

“Let me reword then…” he pauses, “I’ve observed you.”

“I think that’s worse,” you tell him, finishing the last of your drink, before getting up to leave.

As you begin to walk away, the man begins to follow you. Like a bad smell, you think, mentally rolling your eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asks, eyes wide.

“I’m leaving,” you reply, ice cutting through your tone.

“Bit early to be leaving,” he says, checking his watch. You sneak a glance, it’s expensive.

“I have work tomorrow,” you shrug, picking up your walking pace.

“What do you do?” he attempts.

“I’m leaving,” you repeat, firmer and flatter this time.

“Without my number?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say bluntly, as if he’d asked you whether the sky was blue.

“What about your friend? In the bathroom?” he taunts, a pathetic attempt of a joke.

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes and debate slapping him across the face. You decide not to, just this once and make your way down the outdoor staircase. Cabs awaited at the bottom and you intend to catch one. Unfortunately Mr a-bit-too-obsessed seems to intend to catch up with you.

“Let me pay for your cab,” he offers suddenly, when you’re nearly at the bottom.

“Absolutely not,” you scoff, laughing a little at his sheer boldness.

“Please?” he asks, as you reach the bottom of the staircase.

“No, piss off, I’m uninterested, remember?” you shout, opening the cab door, shooting a smile at the driver before turning back to the man.

He’s caught up now and was stood all but a meter away, “uninterested, yet your eyes keep grazing over my lips.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you almost laugh, “as if you can see what my eyes are doing in the dark.”

“I see everything,” he smirks, the upturned corners of his mouth annoyingly attractive.

“Goodbye,” you deadpan, slamming the door.

“Bye sweetheart,” he calls, “and the name’s Jameson by the way.”

***

The next morning, you arrive at the studio a few minutes early and wait outside. The nervous excitement was roaring around inside of you as you stared at the sky. This was your dream job, what you’d worked to get to for as long as you could remember. You wanted this more than anything. If you landed this role it made all the turned down auditions, all the tears, all the times you almost quit, all those minuscule commercial jobs, it made it all worth it. Last year, when you’d landed a job on TV show and gotten a little taste of fame you’d felt on top of the world. Working on a big piece like that was an entirely new experience and one that you wanted to experience again, especially as this character was a character that you personally connected to.

Going to that first audition had probably been the scariest moment of your life and you’d come out convinced you’d messed the whole thing. But to your utter shock and surprise you had gotten a callback… and then a second. You’d made it this far. You didn’t want to blow it now.

But you’d be lying if you told yourself the audition was the only thing on your mind today. A certain man from a bar also seemed to be encircling your thoughts paths, aggravatingly frequently. You don’t know why he’s such a prominent thought but you try to avoid it. He’s a little too distracting for a day as important at this.

Soon enough, the casting director walks out and spots you, beckoning you in. With a small smile you walk in and find a set with cameras being ect up in front of it. The set looks to be a standard bedroom, with a single bed, shelves, a wardrobe, beside table and lots of other little nicknacks scattered around.

“Hello, thanks for coming,” he says, as he shakes your hand firmly.

“Thank you for the callback,” you smile, with a little laugh on the end.

“You’re doing a chemistry test today,” he explains.

The sentence takes you off guard a little. Of course you’d done chemistry tests before but suddenly you felt a little unprepared. Today you’d expected to act alone, but now you were relying on someone else to bring out your performance as well.

You look around, “Where’s the other person?”

“Apparently he’s running late,” the director replies, checking his watch.

“Oh,” you murmur, your heart sinking just a little.

“But don’t he should be here soon,” he nods, “there’s a few seats over there, if you want to sit down and get yourself ready.”

“Isn’t there a script?” you ask, curiously.

“You won’t need one,” the director replies.

“Oh,” your brow furrow, “is it like improv?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you reply sceptically, your mind running through ideas about what it could be that you were doing

You sit yourself down the chairs and begin to do something to distract your mind. Reciting song lyrics usually did the trick. It killed time and made you think. Half way through one of the songs you’d been listening to at the moment the doors burst open from across the room. Your eyes snap up to see a man at the door. Must be the person who was running late.

As your eyes skim over him, you get a funny feeling wash over you. You immediately recognise that mess of dark hair and bold green eyes. You wrack your brain as to where it is that you remember them from. And then it hits you, like a punch to the stomach. The man from the bar last night, Jameson, you recall him shouting after your taxi.

This just can’t be happening.

Of course the only person you had a chemistry test with today was the one person you had zero chemistry with whatsoever. But it didn’t matter, you thought, you were still going to perform at your best and show these directors that you deserved this.

So you make a plan. To do what you think is the smartest thing to do in this situation. You decide to play dumb. He was probably drunk and wouldn’t remember your face, like you’d remembered his. You convince yourself you don’t know him and he doesn’t know you. You’re just two strangers, two actors, who have to do a scene. The director waves you over and suddenly your legs ae just moving towards him. Your heart thuds in your chest as you approach.

It was definitely him. Those green eyes couldn’t belong to anybody else. Without the darkness of the night, he looked even better. He was bolder and brighter like this. His facial features were even more beautiful than you’d originally thought, no wonder he was in the running for a role. The fan girls would go crazy over this guy.

“Jameson, meet y/n,” the director says, gesturing to you, “I’ll let you two get to know each other a little whilst we finish setting up.”

You look at him, wondering if you should start the conversation to manipulate it how you wanted or whether you should let him. Though you don’t get much of a chance to analyse it as he already begins.

“I know you,” he says.

Well shit. You didn’t actually expect him to remember you. This put your plan in a bit of a fragile situation. But nevertheless, you stuck with it. Fake to ‘til you make it.

“I don’t think you do,” you say, adding a hint of confusion into your voice

“I know your face,” he insists.

Stubborn. You observe. He’s stubborn, just like last night. Well, you were stubborn too, so you continued with your little act.

“No you don’t,” you reply, with a little laugh on the end.

“I hit on you,” he says calmly, too calmly for your liking.

You almost choke on your own spittle. He really remembers last night then.

“I’m sorry!” you ask.

“Last night at the bar,” he continues cooly.

“I don’t drink,” you say simply, attempting to shut down the conversation.

“I saw you have two margaritas, don’t lie,” he says, that got awful handsome devilish smirk dancing on his face.

The smirk that makes your stomach flutter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying to stay as stubborn as he.

“You know you look so much better in this lighting, sweeheart,” he grins.

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

The reaction was immediate and sudden, you have no control over it whatsoever. It’s like a deadly instinct.

“Oh so you do remember me?” he says, the smile now laced within his voice.

“Maybe I do,” you grit through your teeth, “but I declined you the first time, you’re a little brave to try again,”

“I am brave,” he tells me, “it’s one of my many green flags.”

“Such a shameless flirt,” you tusk, with an eye roll.

“Is that your type?” he wonder coyly.

“No,” you reply, blunt and sharp.

“What a pity,” he pouts with his pretty lips.

You choose not the say anything else. The conversation has run its course and ended. It’s better that way, when the two of you were not talking. That way he couldn’t make you feel anything. No flutters, no warmth. That’s the way it should be.

“I never knew you were an actress,” he says suddenly.

“And I never knew you were an actor,” you counter, mirroring the way he said it as well as his words.

“It’s really more of a hobby than a career path,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Well some people are serious about this stuff,” you say, a certain fierceness brought out in your voice.

“Are you some people?” he asks, smiling from ear to ear.

“Why does that matter?” you snap, not meaning to be so defensive all of a sudden. He didn’t need to know that you cared.

“Because it matters,” he says simply.

“Look I really want this part and I swear to god if you mess it up for me I will…. rip your head off or something,” you explain.

“I think you’ll get it,” he replies.

“What?”

“The part,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“We’re about to do a chemistry test,” he shrugs, hands in his pockets.

“I’m aware,” you reply, your tone a little dead.

“So let’s show them what we’re best at,” Jameson shoots you a grin.

“Arguing?” you ask.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “having chemistry.”

“You must be out of your mind if you think we have chemistry,” you say.

“I’m out of my mind in love with you,” he replies.

Your cheeks immediately radiate heat and you can hear your heart drumming loudly in your ears. How dare he make you feel this way with just his stupid words.

“Oh shut up, that’s such a bad line,” you roll your eyes, pretending you were unbothered.

“I think you secretly liked it,” he whispers in your ear, a tingle going down your spine.

“You’re thinking wrong again,” you murmur.

“You’re definitely writing it in a pink fluffy diary and drawing love hearts around it,” he mocks, amusement in his tone.

“Have you been watching teenage girl movies or something?” you ask, slight notes of disgust and concern in your voice.

He doesn’t get a chance to bite back as the director walks towards us both and begins to explain what we’re doing today.

“So today we’re just testing out for good kissing chemistry,” the director explains.

“Kissing?” you repeat, jaw slack.

“We just want to film a few shots of you guys kissing to see if it’s a good match or not,” he explains further.

“I have to kiss him?” you clarify, trying not to portray your mortification on your face.

“Yes that is the general idea,” he deadpans at you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

“Will that be a problem?” he asks, judgmental eyebrows raised high into his forehead.

“Not at all,” Jameson almost sings, bearing his teeth for a witty smile.

“No,” you grit through your teeth.

“Brilliant, should we get started then?” the director asks.

You both nod, annoyingly in sync and then make your way to the bedroom set.

“Did you plan this?” you hiss, as you get set up, so no one else could hear.

You can’t help yourself. The curiosity was gnawing at you. Could he really have wanted a kiss that badly to plan all of this?

“Yes I came in here and told the director to change his whole schedule so we could kiss,” he rolls his eyes sarcastically.

You opt for silence.

“Obviously not!” he exclaims, “look I know you thought I was a creep but that’s a whole new level-“

“Sorry,” you blurt out, “I was only curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, did it not?” Jameson says, his mouth twisting into a familiar smile.

“Maybe it was a stupid cat,” you murmur.

“Or maybe it was a smart cat that was a little too curious,” he replies.

“I guess we’ll never know,” you say, your voice low and slow.

“I guess we won’t,” he murmurs back, a level of seduction in his tone, that causes heat to rise in your face.

You are directed to be positioned with your back on the make-shift set wall with Jameson standing over you. The cameras were twisted and turned around you, capturing all angles needed. You brace yourself ignoring how hard you are breathing and how much your heart is thumping in your chest.

“ACTION.”

He makes the first move and presses his lips onto yours, his hands cupping your face. The motion is very gentle, delicate almost, making you feel fragile. His lips so soft and smooth and you find myself not only kissing back, but wanting to. He tastes indescribably addictive and after that first gentle kiss you don’t think you can get enough. You want to taste this every day of my life. You close your eyes, discarding any previous hesitation you’d had about this experience and start to enjoy it.

Slowly his hands slip around your waist, his soft touch surprising you a little. Your arms meet around his neck. You don’t break for breath. You and him have come to the silent agreement that breathing doesn’t seem to matter anymore. You’ve never felt so positively sure of something that you want until this very moment moment. He pushes his lips harder against yours and you follow suit. The kiss deepens as he hums in pleasure. A low hum right from the back of his throat. It takes you off guard slightly but you move past it and keep kissing his pretty little lips. It’s like a dance, driven off of feeling for music and movement of the body.

You want to know every crevice, every morsel and every surface of his lips. You want to know what they desire and how to give it to him. You could feel his heartbeat thumping due to the closeness of your chests. He’s intense but you like it. You like the intensity of this moment and how your mind was so wrapping up in it you couldn’t think of anything else. You loved the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You kiss again, deepening it further and then…

Desperation takes over and suddenly you’re both ravenous for one another. Feverishly kissing rough and passionate kisses. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him, so you’re pressed right up against his body. Your hands now find themselves deep within his hair, clinging to chunks of it. You feel so violent that you fear you might pull some out. The kiss is now savage in a delightful kind of way that you never would have imagined. You wanted him to bite your lip so hard it drew blood, you wanted the heat, you wanted the frenzied feelings.

But then the movement slows again, he lets you know he wants a gentler approach. He slows down the kiss and really feels your lips, almost tickling them. It’s like he’s teasing you in the best way possible. His lips of velvety soft, brushing against your own. You let your kisses fall into a more soothing, delicate rhythm, tenderising each one’s, tailoring it to be even softer than the last and-

“CUT.”

You’d forgotten this was just a scene, just a chemistry test. You’d forgotten where you were or why you were there. Your mind had been paralysed by his lips. So lost within emotion and lust and love. Love? Suddenly you’re angry, angry at him for doing this to you, making you forget who you were for a moment, for having that kind of power. And yet, when the director yells cut, your lips still linger.

You finally break away, breathing heavily. You stare into his green eyes, your lips still tingling, your tongue still craving another taste. You look away, you can’t bear to meet his eyes for fear you might attempt something stupid. The devil is in his eyes and he’s reaching out to your heart. That isn’t a position you were prepared to be in

“Well if I’m not mistaken,” he grins, chest moving up and down as he too is out of breath, “that’s felt like chemistry to me.”

“Maybe you’re mistaken then,” you lie.

“I could feel your heart beating sweetheart-“

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” you almost yell.

“It was beating real hard,” he finishes, still not quite caught his breath back.

You finally look up and he is already there to meet your gaze. You don’t even bother to answer him. You just continue to get lost into the deep forests and the stories they told.

“Thank you guys, that was brilliant, absolutely spectacular, I could just feel the sexual tension through the screen, which is exactly what we’re looking for,” the director says.

You can feel Jameson smirking from behind and it’s bugging you. You don’t want there to be sexual tension between you and him, you don’t want there to be anything between you and him other than a brick wall right now. You hate the way your cheeks are ruby red and how your heart rate can’t seem to slow because you know he’s there, behind you.

“Would you mind both coming back in tomorrow so we can test out an actual scene rather than just a kiss?” the director asks.

You ponder it for a moment, you could decline, never come back, lose this job and never see Jameson again. But lose your dream role for a guy who’s pissing you off? Absolutely not. You didn’t get this far for someone like him to get in the way.

Jameson hasn’t replied yet. You assume he is waiting for you to answer first to make his decision .

“I’ll be there,” you say firmly.

“And so will I,” Jameson winks.

“Perfect, thanks you two!” The director smiles, walking back off.

Once he’s completely out of the way you let out a long breath and close your eyes. You’d gotten through yet another day of auditions and you would be back tomorrow. If this goes well then you get all that you want. That’s all that matters.

“See you tomorrow,” he grins at you, flashing his brilliant emerald eyes, “sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You didn’t protest to the nickname this time. Lord help you tomorrow.

a/n: I can’t lie, I don’t really like what I’ve written here but thought I’d post it anyways. Something about it is just… bleh. I might do a rewrite at some point???

thank you to whoever requested this, sorry I took me a little while and also sorry it wasn’t that good… thanks for your patience 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[doodle-girl]

The Monsters of Eastridge: DOAI Playlist

Description: At this point, might as well make a playlist for everything. Welcome to my own personal demon-filled hell, this is mostly based on lyrics, vibes, or both 🎃 (Edit: Due to recent fixations, this now also includes some Sitcom AU stuff.)

(Yeah this is made mostly for @spookmuth but also just anyone else who’s interested in my music taste/how my thoughts work. Will update the post whenever the playlist updates, have fun! Also footnotes will be in brackets because I like footnotes)

Edit: Now on spotify! Courtesy of @witheredallium <3

“Happy Face” by Jagwar Twin [I have had an animatic for this jangling around my brain for actual several months oh my god]

“Turn the Lights Off” by Tally Hall

“A1 - It’s just a burning memory” by The Caretaker [Yeah idk how well this actually fits since it’s based on a song from like. The 30s. But I think it’s obligatory for any analog horror ever lol]

"I Can't Decide" by The Scissor Sisters [This one I got inspo from havoc-bloom's playlist/clip of Pastra finding it. A few of these are, actually, lol] [Edit: I have now realized just how well this fits Clyde in the sitcom au and I am once again plagued by art ideas 👀]

"I'M Sane" by Axie [Me when I torture the innocent with horrid monsters and become one myself. but I'm a little silly about it teehee~ 😜]

"The Circus" by Toby Fox [This popped up on shuffle when I was drawing Clyde once and my brain refused to let go of the vibes™ ever since]

"Animal Cannibal (Possibly in Michigan)" by Buckshot Princess [I would've put the one by Karen Skladany but it's not on apple music 😔 sad. This cover's really nice tho]

"The Dismemberment Song" by Blue Kid [Same reasoning as "I'M Sane," nyehehe. Also this song really feels like it's ripped out of a musical number. If you told me it was I'd believe you.]

"The Mind Electric" by Miracle Musical

"Horror Show" by K-Modo [You ever just. Think about why Lankmann does the things he did? Like what's his game here?]

"Dance of Corpse (feat. Hatsune Miku)" by Kikuo [this might also spiral into an animatic lol. Anyway do me a solid and go look up the music video, turn on the official english subtitles and come back to me.]

"The Nowhere King" by The Centaurworld Cast

"Nothing Changes" by Jewelle Blackman, Yvette Gonzalez-Nacer, and Kay Trinidad [this musical makes me feel. so many things. And I just think the vibes/lyrics of "why try when you'll only end in misery" might fall into the category of vibes here idk idk]

"Murders" by Miracle Musical

"Kitchen Fork" by Jack Conte [I don't remember exactly why I put this here rn but I just know this is an Alex song. It's so beautifully haunting and passionate stg] [Edit: yeah definitely an Alex song]

"Meet Me in the Woods" by Lord Huron ['kay I know the vibes are probably off but look at the lyrics and tell me it shouldn't go here]

"A Crow's Trial" by Vane Lily [Look man I can’t explain this one exactly but just trust me on it]

"You're F****d" by Ylvis [Yeah I put this one here as a joke song. Every single character in here is SO doomed by the narrative, I'm sorry Alex but it's true. teehee~]

"UNCANNY / ft. KAFU" by kian [I actually couldn't find this one on apple music but galactinqq was right about this being an Alex song and I'm putting it on the post]

"Raising the Dead!" by Jessica Law [Styx, you madlad, this is SUCH a Lankmann song oh my god]

“Hymn for a Scarecrow” by Tally Hall [“Simon isn’t even in the series yet, though” My guy it’s called Hymn for a Scarecrow and it’s Tally Hall what else do you want me to do. I love Simon so much I miss him already <3]

“Break My Mind” by DAGames

“In the Mood” by Glenn Miller [this one was in Vol 1! So I found it and I’m putting it here <3]

“Pictures” by Kyle Allen Music [I mean technically the series is videos but whatever. This song fits sue me]

“Ruler of Everything” by Tally Hall [I saw the words “mechanical hands” on a DOAI fanart once and it jumpstarted an idea that refuses to leave me. Turns out it fits VERY well holy crap]

"I'll Be There for You (Theme from Friends)" by The Rembrandts [shoutout to froggydrawz's own sitcom AU playlist for more material for me eheheheh ✌️ I'll be putting a few of those here]

"I'm Still Standing" by Taron Egerton [sitcom exclusive because canon Alex is fucking dead /lh]

"Digital Silence" by Peter McPoland

"How Far We've Come" by Matchbox Twenty [another sitcom one nyehehehe. This AU has me by a chokehold unlike any other AU I've been into istg]

"Who is She (Reprise)" by Kimiko Glenn [I apologize for those who came here for a normie-ass DOAI playlist, I promise it started out that way but y'know that's fixations for ya. Anyways I added this one on a whim because it gave off veldigun!Alex AU vibes. Might fit with other stuff idk do with that what you will ¯\_(ツ)_/¯]

"Soft Bitch" by Rio Romeo [pretty sure it was spookmuth that made a sitcom AU art inspired by this song and I love it]

"Runaway" by AURORA [secret-spirit if you see this at all just know this was your doing (/pos). This is like, my favorite AURORA song and seeing you do an Alex art in the whiteboard to this song sparked a primal "holy shit" moment in me]

"Lose Control" by Teddy Swims [I was doodling in the DOAI whiteboard when my mamá started playing this in the other room and my brain immediately went "oh my god what if Clyde and Winfrey"]

"Soft Apocalypse" by Charming Disaster [Once again, everybody give it up for Styx's music taste, this is making my brainworms go mad with art ideas 👏👏👏 sitcom AU song, btw]

Side note, might hit a word limit here? So Imma have to continue this list in a reblog, just look through those for more if ya want✌️

[bigskydreaming]

The Vampire Daniel Molloy, when Louis asks what he's looking forward to most about the next stage of his newly immortal life:

Hmm. With how much my maker already complains about me ruining his life and how every day I give him a new reason to regret ever siring me, if I had to pick just one thing, I'd say the thing I'm most looking forward to is when I hit vampire puberty.

Louis: ....

Daniel: Vampire puberty's when the really wild superpowers kick in, right?

Louis: I suppose technically that's not....inaccurate.

Daniel: Hey, what are the chances of me getting the 'set shit on fire with my brain' thing you've got? Can you even imagine how much that would piss him off? His disappointment of a fledgling having the same gifts as the ex who dumped his ass....oh, man. C'mon now. I bet I could do some real damage with that.

Louis: Actually, while we're near the subject: would you please stop introducing yourself as 'the reason your vampire parents got divorced?'

Daniel: No, Louis, Louis! You're not getting it, see....the thing that makes it funny is its true.

Louis: You've really decided to lean into the whole 'second childhood' angle, huh.

Daniel: Mmmm. And just think. If you'd turned me fifty years ago when I first asked, I'd be well past this stage by now. And also still twenty. And hot.

Louis: Ahh. Its like that, then, is it.

Daniel: Oh, only a little bit. Really though, its like, every day I discover a new way to make Armand rue my very existence all over again, and maybe I'm just a simple man with simple needs, because that's just....very fun for me. I mean, there's just something extra validating in knowing the guy you're all "fuck that guy, I hate him, he sucks" about hates you waaaay more than you can be bothered to hate him. Because then its like you win the feud, right? You still get to hate that guy, which is great, because fuck that guy, he sucks, but you also get to know your very existence drives him way crazier than his ever makes you, and I mean, let's be real. Who doesn't like winning things?

Louis: Well I'm so glad you've found something that gives you a sense of purpose at least. Its very -

Daniel: Yeah, yeah, immortal blood drinkers need hobbies other than mass murder, it keeps the body count low and is good for the environment. Relax. I know. I literally wrote the book on it. You were there.

Louis: That's what you got out of it?

Daniel: Why, did you want me to fixate on your sex scenes instead? That seems weird. A little narcissistic even. And at the risk of self-awareness, when I'm the one -

Louis: Right. Well. I just wanted to make sure you had something to focus your energies on. It can all be a bit overwhelming at first and with your level of public attention at the moment, its very crit -

Daniel: Nope, all good here. Got myself a steady supply of Deadbeat Dad jokes that make my maker's eye twitch - apparently base word play is "gauche" or some shit - ugh, my god, its like nothing I do is ever good enough for him, and I only ate one of the editors on my shitlist to test drive my shiny new murder skills. He had this thing about Oxford commas, used to bug the crap out of me. Its like we get it, you hate them. They're literally dots on a page, they can't hurt you, can we please move on....

Louis: ....

Daniel: Louis, I'm kidding. Look, you don't have to worry about me. I already decided I find emotional evisceration way more satisfying than the physical version. Less clean up and it lasts longer anyway. I'm not going to get myself into trouble by cosplaying as Jack the Ripper where paparazzi can catch me red-fanged, and even if I do, I hereby absolve you of all responsibility. You can stop mother-henning me, you didn't turn me, you literally said no when I begged you to, its the whole reason I have eternal wrinkles instead of youthful tautness.

Louis: Not gonna let that one go, are you.

Daniel: Gimme a few centuries and ask me again. I'll let you know then.

Louis: Mmhmm. So this was....memorable and we definitely won't be doing it again. But you do seem to have things figured out so I'll leave you to it, then.

Daniel: Wait, Louis, don't go! Don't you want to hear my five-century life plan for annoying Armand into an early retirement mausoleum? I made visual aids!

Louis: Goodbye, Daniel.

Daniel: Fine, leave then! I don't care! You're not my real dad anyway! Et cetera, et cetera!

[fruitsoxs]

Hello! I like your writing a lot and i was wondering if you'd do wolfwood x gn-reader, and the reader has a flirty and vulgar way of joking. I'm curious how would he react to that kind of chaotic person who likes to taunt and tease

I got a little bit nsfw with this haha-- a little full on smut drabble included so-

warnings: !nsfw minors dni! smut, swearing, make outs, blow jobs, face fucking wolfwood gets a bit rough, it's gender neutral but he does call you "angel" (my dyslexic ass is praying i managed to not put a single "angle" in there)

Okay I really do believe he’d probably think you are hilarious. He’d probably  immediately connect with you. 

You take his jokes, and then you tease him back?? Wowie he’s already in love lol

But here’s the kicker- I think eventually  he’d dish out more than he could take

Especially if he starts falling for you along the way

Like he’d say a whittle inappropriate joke and you would try and up him

And then this man would fold

Red face

Unable to talk

Completely and totally flustered 

One time you make a joke about him using something else for his oral fixation and he straight up walks away

He doesn’t talk to you until the next day

You think it’s pretty funny actually - so you decide to start seeing how far you can take it before he snaps

NSFW part below the cut!

Imagine one day you say something and he finally just explodes

Like you make a job about him fucking your sins away and you thinks it’s all witty because he’s a priest

But he literally is like “You know what?? I think I will-” And bam he’s got you bent over screaming his name lol

It’s a particularly hot afternoon, and in order to keep group morale up everyone has decided to make a little stop to drink some cool water. Maybe even eat some food if money will allow it. You’re pretty thankful. One more moment in that damn car and you’re sure you’d burst - it’s WAY too hot with both Vash and Wolfwood on either side of you like that.

It takes only a couple minutes for your dark haired friend to saunter up to you and sit down, throwing his arm on the seat behind you. Not close enough to touch you, but close enough that you can almost smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. He’s, thankfully, curbed the habit of smoking inside. With a sucker popped in between his lips, he lets out a small sigh.

He doesn’t like sitting still, you know that. He hates when the group decides to take breaks like this. If it were up to him, you all would be moving non-stop into the dead of night. Thankfully, it’s not. So he’ll just have to live.

“Feeling restless?” You ask, knowing the answer already.

“What do you think, angel?” he sighs again, his voice slightly horse.

You smile softly at the nickname, a bit unsure why he calls you that still. He told you once before that it all started when he saw your worried face after he was hit by a car.  He said you looked innocent, and pure. He’d find out minutes later that you definitely weren’t- yet the nickname still rolls off his tongue like it belongs there.

“Why do you call me that?” you ask, looking up at him. “You know why.” His answer is simple. He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, craning his neck. He’s too tall.

“Yeah I know why you started calling me that- but why still call me that?” you clarify rolling your eyes. He knew what you meant, he’s just being difficult. “I’m not really the most holy individual.’ You point out. He laughs and shakes his head. “Trust me I know.” He mumbles, that smirk still present on his lips as he looks forward. “You’re the biggest sinner I know.” he jokes. He really walks into this one. He should know, with how much he jokes about being a priest, that this joke was always in the back of your brain. Always waiting for the right moment. Yet here he is, giving you the perfect opening. It’s almost like he’s begging for it.

“Oh? Am I a bad girl, father? Should I get on my knees and confess my sins?” You ask with a sneer. He freezes immediately. “Are you gonna punish me?” You go on, leaning in close. Man, this is a gold mine. You’d probably keep going too, if he doesn’t stand up and yank you out of your chair.

You let out a small yelp as he starts pulling you along, through the room, and into a little storage place that is probably only for employees. He throws you in, softly of course, and you stumble forward slightly. “What hell are you-” You’re interrupted by the door locking as he turns to you, shrugging the Punisher off his shoulder. He leans the giant cross against the wall, and sighs.

“You’ve got the naughtiest mouth angel, I can’t fucking stand it anymore.” He curses sauntering up next to you. “All you do is tease me, and yeah it can be pretty funny. Then you go off and say shit like that- and you have no idea what it does to me.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “And you know what? Maybe it is about time you get punished.”

A few moments later and his lips are on yours. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, open mouthed and messy. The sucker that was dangling from his lips falls against the dirty ground. You can’t help but moan into the kiss, as he devours you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever eat. His tongue invades your lips, and roams around every inch of your mouth. He drinks in your taste, and when he pulls away he’s got this shit eating grin that stretches across his lips.

“What do you think, angel?” He whispers, his hand sliding to the back of your head. 

Like you even have to think about this- Wolfwood is quite literally the hottest man you have ever been given the privilege to meet. Plus he’s endearing, and sweet when he wants to be. Plus that kiss was just about the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I have been pretty naughty.” Is your answer.

His grin widens, and his fingers dip into your scalp, pulling your hair so your head tilts back. You gasp, and he takes that as an opportunity to slip his tongue back into your mouth. You’re not sure if it’s even really a kiss at this point, but if the noises that leave your throat are anything to go off of, you really don’t mind.

After a while he pulls away, his cheeks red. “Are you gonna make good on your promise and get on your knees, angel?” he whispers, lips dangerously close to your ear. Your cheeks instantly heat up. You just now notice something hard pressed up against your thigh, and you wonder how easy it was for him to so worked up on your teasing alone. 

You bend at the knees, and slowly fall to the ground. The floor is a bit sticky, but whatever. You have bigger things to deal with right now. And with the way he’s gripping your hair, you’re not sure if you can stop yourself from what’s to come.

He grunts as you slide your fingers into the waistline of his pants, and drag them down. His black boxers are already dripping with precum  from just the thought of what's to come. It makes your mouth water.

You press your lips against the fabric, and he growls softly. You take the hint, and slowly rid him of the undergarments. His dick flies free and you have to pinch the skin on your legs to keep from freaking out.

He’s big. Thick. Uncut and freaking beautiful.

“Like what you see, angel?” He asks, pressing your face forward. You nod, and reach a hand out, delicately tracing your fingers along the shaft. His hips jerk forward slightly, but he’s quick to let you know who’s in charge by pulling on your hair. You moan and lean forward, placing your tongue towards the middle, and licking a line up to the head. You look up at him, eyes wide, before quickly wrapping your mouth around the tip.

“God-’ He mumbles softly. “So perfect. Those lips are so Goddamn perfect angel.” He groans. You can tell he’s holding himself back, so you slide your head down and take in bit by bit slowly. He grunts and moans softly, clutching onto you for dear life. 

“Just like that angel, take it all in. You’re doing such a good job.” His praise ignites a fire in you, and you let out a soft whimper. The vibrations against his dick make the man freeze for a minute. He’s getting closer to losing control. But he wants you to take your time before he face fucks the life out of you.

“You like that angel? Like when I praise you?”

You try your best to nod, lips still wrapped around his cock. He gets the idea, and lets out a soft chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He mumbles, and his touch feels a bit softer for a second.

You continue on your journey of giving him the best blowjob of his life, licking and sucking as you see fit. One hand wrapped around the bottom of his dick, moving in unison with your head. You find the courage to finally slide it all the way into the back of your throat.  A cry escapes your mouth, followed by a gag, and tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. The moment you deepthroat him, his hands grip the back of your head, and keep you there for a few seconds. 

“Fuck- angel-” He grunts before releasing you. You slide your mouth off of him for a second. “I can’t hold myself back. You feel too good- can I fuck your pretty face angel? That okay?” He asks, his hand dropping to your chin for a second. You nod, and he smiles.

And then, he grips your hair so tight you might scream. Before you can even make a sound, his dick is in your throat again, as he slams his hips against your face at a dead pace. It’s rough, but not aggressive enough to make you uncomfortable. And the noises he makes are insanely hot.

You can’t help but choke and moan as his dick slides into your mouth. You try your best to move your tongue around it, but it’s hard to think straight. You’re almost drunk on his cock.

“Fuck- you’re being so good for me angel.” He coos. His soft voice is a pleasant counter to his rough grip on your hair. 

Finally, his movements begin to get a bit clumsier, and you can tell he’s close. “Angel, shit, I’m close.” He grunts. “You gonna swallow every last drop? Gonna let my cum clean your filthy mouth, angel?” You cry out a yes against his cock, nails digging into his thighs.

That’s all it takes for him to unload into you, letting out one final curse as his seed drips down your throat. He keeps your head pressed against the bottom of his dick until you’ve swallowed the last of it. He lets go of your head, and you fall backwards, knees starting to hurt.

After a few seconds, once his pants are back on, he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you back up softly. He lets you lean against him as you get your strength back in your legs, and kisses the top of your head softly. His arm is around your waist, his touch now soft and loving. 

“You okay, angel?” he asks, his mouth presses against the top of your head. “Of course.” You hum, and lean into his embrace.

[ravenna222]

Weaving the web

Hanamiya Makoto x Fem!Reader

time skip: hanamiya and reader are in their late 20s; reader has a child

Warnings: smut, post-breakup, dacryphilia, heavy degradation, oral (f!recieving), threatening, edging, physical abuse (reader gets slapped in the face), toxic! hanamiya (lmao what were we expecting), emotional manipulation, reader is implied to have an abusive past, fluff if you squint

P.s. This is my first time writing smut, so the actual nsfw part might not be too satisfying, but I hope the storyline makes up for it, even tho it's kinda rushed

How long has it been? Hanamiya thinks back, reminiscing his relationship with you. It's been 3 years since he's seen you, and god this was not what he was expecting. You sitting by the seaside cradling a baby.

The breakup was messy, whenever you remember it a stench of nausea fills your guts. Makoto was never a nice man, you knew that from the start, everyone knew. From the first time you saw him in highschool you knew he was trouble, gliding down the halls with that unsettling smirk plastered on his face deciding who to taunter next. He waiting the day it was your turn, gosh he was like a flee, trying to mess up your relationships, tearing up your friendships. Yet nothing he ever did seemed to be enough to break you. You were intelligent, sure, he could give you that, but you were no where near his level; however that wit infuriated him to no end, dare he say you're wittier than him. Perhaps it was that that lured him in. He was so endowed into weaving his spider web that he had entangled himself in it. Hara would tease him about it during practise, how he always fixated on you, how out of everyone know one got on his nerves just as much as you did. Soon you both started talking more, less bickering, you were getting closer to eachother. Even if you weren't as intelligent as him, he found your shared conversations the most interesting. He was never bored around you. Sometimes he thinks that his intellect, as much as it is a gift, is his own damnation. School was too easy, apart from ruining basketball as a sport, tormenting people and playing darts nothing was fulfilling. Sure he's an avid reader, but he couldn't always read. With you he felt as if his brain found enough tranquility to switch off all the unending noise.

He remembers the moment you two had sex for the first time: you were both 3rd year students close to graduation, about to write a new chapter of life. You were together studying in the library, or at least supposed to study, when you decided to ditch the boring essay and go to his to play darts. You were surprised, not by the fact that he enjoyed throwing darts but by the fact he was willing to teach you. He was never patient with anyone. During that evening was a complete failure for you, guess the dart board wasn't on your side.

"Stupid, if you keep your arm in that stance you're never gonna hit the center, or the board for that matter."

"Yeah, well maybe if you actually decided to teach me and give me a few tips like you said earlier I wouldn't completely suck!"

"Ugh, you're such a pain you know? Whining all the time. Here, let me show you." Standing right behind you, a hand slip over your waist while his other grabbed your hand to change your position, he guided it to throw the dart.

"Huh, what a suprise, it landed on the board this time." Damn that sarcastic tone of his. If you could you'd throw him out of his own bedroom.

You stayed in that position for a few mere moments before he started kissing your neck, left hand making it un to your breast whilst the other slid down your torso.

You both will never forget that night, he was sure of it, nor will he ever forget the years you spent together in university. He was studying to become a lawyer, more specifically a criminal defence lawyer purely to piss people off. And to no one's suprise, he became a phenomenal one. Criminals from all of Japan, and some overseas, would come searching help from Hanamiya.

Maybe it was the work overload, maybe it was the fact that he refused to admit that it was too much, or perhaps fame. He became even more petty and angry towards everything. You understood it was bad when even his own mother told him to take some time off. But he wouldn't.

The night of the breakup was messy to say the least. "You're a masochist", "seems to me you enjoy the pain I give you."

Done you were, you told yourself, done. You swore to yourself that you'd never speak to him again. Not even holding a positive pregnancy test would make you crawl back to him for support. No, you'll get rid of this baby, you told yourself. But you didn't, you didn't find the courage to do so. You blamed it on the societal expectations of women, that every woman was destined to become a mother, the brainwashing of young girls letting go of their big dreams to settle down and bear children. Not that that automatically ment a big career was over, but it was hard. They made it hard. You didn't have family to turn to, Hanamiya knew that, he knew of your broken family and that's why he was so perplexed to see you by the seaside holding a damn baby in your arms.

Hanamiya chuckled as he watched the horror washed over your face. No, no, please, anyone but him.

"Hey love, longtime no see. Care to explain this nonsense?"

He didn't need an explanation, it was his, how could it not? He could tell by the baby's eyes, they were an exact resemblance of his.

"I don't need to explain anything to you, Hanamiya." You bark back. You said you were done with him, you swore it to yourself, yet here he is standing infront of you with that humouring glare.

Why the hell was he in Okinawa? Shouldn't he be in Tokyo working?

"Oh please Y/n, cut the formalities, it doesn't suit you. You know, I finally listened to ma, took that holiday, and look who we have here. I wondered where you had gone off to, couldn't reach you, didn't try really, but here you are."

God hates you, you're certain of it. God hates you more than he hates Hanamiya.

"This is a suprise, can't say a pleasant one tho."

He sat beside you, taking a closer look at the baby. It was a girl, a baby girl, he had a baby girl. Fuck, he almost couldn't bring himself to believe it. As much as he wanted to hate it he couldn't.

"If you're going to be a bother then leave. Ayame and I are trying to relax. Get your ass away from us."

Ayame huh.

As you were trying to woosh Makoto away Ayame opened her eyes, as her vision landed right onto Hanamiya she clapped her hands. Finally her Daddy's home.

Sometimes you hated Ayame's little brain, if there is one thing certain about her, it's that she inherited her father's high iq. She didn't need you to tell her who he was, one glance is all she needed, one glance, and she knew.

"Dada!" She started to wriggle uncontrollably tempting to get to Hanamiya. Dada Dada Dada, she repeatedly whispered. The one thing you feared happening is happening, and there was nothing you could do about it. Sure, you could run someplace Hanamiya wouldn't reach you, but his image would be engraved into Ayame forever. She would never forget him.

"C'mon, pass her to me." You're reluctant but you do as you're told.

Strange feelings pass over Hanamiya, he wasn't sure what to think of this other than the obvious: He's a father now.

As the sun set, you all went back to your place to have dinner. You agreed that he'd spend the night as he hadn't booked a hotel, or so he told you.

After dinner you put Ayame to sleep, now all that was left was to make a deal with the devil.

Hanamiya is sitting on your couch, watching you unamused as you sit next to him.

"You really expected that I'd have told you about her?"

No, he didn't.

"You're hilarious my dear, you would have saved yourself so much trouble if you just had the courage to pick up the phone."

He's infuriating, you just want to kick him out and leave him on the streets, oh how you'd love to, but you couldn't. You didn't want to.

"Fuck off Hanamiya."

"What did we say about formalities Y/n?"

"Alright, Makoto. You stay the night, but when I wake up I better not see you, otherwise I'll get a fucking restraining order."

"Baby please, I'm a lawyer. You couldn't win a case against me even if you tried. But what would Ayame think? Are you always this inconsiderate about her? As she grows older, what would she think of her lovely Mommy not letting her see her own sweet daddy, hmm? Think carefully Y/n."

"You bastard! How dare you-!"

Before you knew it he pinned you down on the couch under him, his knee between your thighs, rubbing at your core. Fuck, this wasn't supposed to turn you on the way it did, well... fuck him for knowing you too well.

"Not gonna lie, I did miss this."

"Fuck you. Get off me you bastard!"

"Quit the tongue Y/n, it doesn't suit you."

And with that his lips crashed against yours in a heated kiss, all the passion that was sealed throughout the 3 years of not being together bubbled up to the surface. You hated yourself for this. You never wanted to see him again but here you are under him, putty in his hands like you always were. Nothing has changed.

"Quit the lies too, if you didn't want me here tonight, you wouldn't have offered me to stay here, we both know I earn enough money for a decent hotel. You want this, tell yourself all of the above, but you can't deny it, you can't deny me anymore sweetheart, you're not getting rid of me any time soon."

You start to panic, it was true, once he entered your apartment you knew what was going to happen. Pathetically lying to yourself isn't going to make it better.

Slyly he unclips your bra and slides his hands under your shirt, clasping your left breast. He curses to himself, he missed this a bit too much. He tries to convince himself, and you for the sake of his arrogance, that he just missed the sex, but you knew otherwise.

He proceeds to pull your shirt over your head and take off your jeans, leaving you bare only for his eyes to see. Trying to hide yourself by grabbing the closest blanket, you feel a sting on your left cheek. "Nah-ah, you're not getting all shy on me now stupid girl" his whisper sends a chill down your spine,"where'd all that fight go, hmm?" Ending with a lick on your ear he turns to your neck. You knew by the end of this you'll be all bruised up, covered in hickeys. Worry hits you, what if Ayame sees the marks? But it doesn't matter, you like it this way anyway, you like it when it hurts.

"Ah!" He bites down nearly drawing blood. Makoto has always been sadistic, he once told you he started rough play when he was 12, always laughing at the pain of others, you're no exempt. On the contrary, you're his prime victim, your pain tastes like honey to him, sweeter than any he's tasted. As he sucks on your neck his left hand finds its way to your panties, white ones huh, when did you become so pure?

He starts circling your clothed clit slowly it almost hurts. His lips leave your now ruined neck and make their way back to your mouth. You groan into the kiss as he smirks.

"More more Makoto, 'want more!" He lets out a scornful laugh whilst kissing your abdomen. You sound like a bratty child throwing a tantrum, and you know what happens to brats? They need to be disciplined.

"So impatient and we're just getting started, ah~ , how did I find myself such a slutty brat?" You want to protest, but soon you feel a hot breathe graze your damped panties. Hanamiya moves your them aside and gives your clit a quick lick and a delicate suck that makes your legs wriggle in delite. Oh how sweet you can be, forgetting the sour nature of Hanamiya Makoto. Nearly instantly you can feel your panties covering you clit.

"Fuck-ah!-" A slap lands on your pussy, "watch your mouth" he warns you. Ah! Another slap and Makoto wastes no time to dive in and smell the wet heat of your core. He begins to lick your clothed pussy. It's not enough, it's definitely not enough, but when is it ever enough for you. Finally after a few whiny moans he slips you panties off, feeling a tongue beginning to lap around your folds. There was no questioning Hanamiya's oral performance, his silver tongue is able to give you high after high when he's generous.

"Ahh~, Ma-uh~, M-makoto hmm!" You manage to blurt out, hearing the slurps turns you on more and more. You can sense a knot forming inside. Hanamiya grins, he knows your body dangerously well, he's well aware of your upcoming climax. He starts to tongue fuck you as his right hand reaches your chin and plunges two fingers into your mouth making you gag.

"Mm-mmh!" The gagged moans were his favourite, fuck they were so slutty to him. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and puts his index inside you.

"Cummin' m'koto" you slur out. A few seconds pass, but when you finally are going to release all motions stop, he pulls out his finger and slaps your pussy again. You cry out, how could he deny you?

"I don't think you deserve it. You know you've been such a whiny bitch to me, you don't even deserved to be touched you stupid slut." Another sting, but this time on your right plush cheek. "I find out you had my child and you didn't fucking bother to tell me!" Another slap, this time right across your face.

" I'm sorry I'm sorry! I- I-" tears threaten to fall. You do feel guilty, you kept the father of your child out of her life. Maybe for a good reason? But you can't reason, not when Makoto rams 3 fingers into your aching cunt catching you of guard.

"And you were planning on never telling me, you know you'd be the reason she would have felt empty, pain, asking you where her daddy is? When he doesn't even know she fuckin' exists! You stupid whore, you're a terrible mother."

Hot tears stain your face, this is why you left him, but you can't seem to think straight at the moment, not when you're about to cum all over his fingers.

"C'mon mommy", he taunts, "cum on daddy's fingers." His voice, that's all you need to reach your climax.

Suddenly he flips you over, one foot on the floor for support and the other firm on the side of the couch to reach in deep enough.

"You really thought you could get away with this? You're fucking delusional. Sooner or later I was gonna find you, track you down. I have connections, the ones that wouldn't mind beating up a few dozen people to find a stupid fucking slut. And here you are, safe and sound in Okinawa, and look! I found you! Maybe destiny is real." He knows it's the insanity talking for him. Destiny, fate, none of that shit exists. He was going to find you eventually nonetheless, it was only a matter of time. He's a criminal defence lawyer for fucks sakes, he's made friends here and there who'd gladly repay him with a favor if he'd ask faster than a blink of an eye. Realistically, he doesn't think he would've done such a thing. Or maybe, who knows. But there is something everyone knows, you know it too well: Hanamiya's unpredictable.

[froms8nsashes]

Crime Down 10

Read it and weep suckers!

I'm joking. I'm currently watching Gotham and have a fixation on Batman, his family, and his rogues, and all media pertaining it. I highly disliked the most current Batman movie but that's irrelevant. So my friend said, hopefully jokingly, that if I were in Gotham crime would be down 10% so I decided why not write about it yk.

Reader giving my favorite rogues (from gotham) the care and affection they so desperately needed to lead them away from the life of crime, or hopefully lead them away. I don't truly believe that love and affection will ever change a criminal but this is strictly fanfiction and yeah.

Edward Nygma

You were new to the GCPD.

They needed a medical examiner because the previous was suspended. You would have figured they would pick anyone other than a forensics student, but you were surprised.

There wasn't anything of yours to bring into the office so you figured you would get acquainted with everything. Some officers stopped by but due to the awkwardness of a barely passable conversation they'd written you off as weird and strange. Normally, newbies in the joint were all talk and left very little to the imagination but you didn't exactly like talking to them. Didn't look them in the eye, and whenever someone would stop by you started tapping your fingers either on your arm or the counter, missing your ring finger.

"What do you answer even though it never asks questions?" Ed didn't knock or say hello, he just started with a riddle. A nice, neat looking man. He was holding files. A big smile on his face.

"Huh?" You stopped tapping your fingers. Your brain switched back on from dissociation as you tried to fish for the words that were sadly muffled in your ears.

"Do you give up?"

"I didn't hear you."

"Oh." His eyes seemed to light up, the smile got brighter. "What do you answer even though it never asks questions?" He asked again.

You muttered it again to yourself.

"Is it a phone?"

"You sound unsure."

"Okay, then it is a phone."

"Final answer?"

"Yeah, a phone."

"Correct!"

That's how the conversations have started since. All because you enjoyed answering his riddles he's become a friend. You noticed that on top of the gcpd officer's treating you like a nuisance they also treated Ed like a nuisance. It wasn't really a problem until you realized that no one really stopped by the medical examiner's office other than Ed, and at first you just figured most people were busy.

You didn't hate spending time with Ed. He was kind, and mostly as passionate as you were about the things that interested him. He especially had a passion for dead things and riddles, two of your favorite things, although dead things topped the cake.

Nor did you expect to find yourself falling for him.

It actually hit you like a brick. Something that was least expected.

Once you figured it out your gaze filled with love and admiration once you'd finally realized for yourself that you really did like him very much.

So you decided to give him a riddle of his own.

"It's mine, but you can only keep it. What is it?"

He was working in the lab when you entered, it was a habit to refrain from knocking. So, when others knocked on his door he knew to put on that mask of his when talking with others that aren't you. His face lit up once he realized it was a riddle.

"Oh, this one is too easy. It's... It's..." That cute smile dropped from his face, he started to scratch as he wracked his brain.

"I'll let you think over it a bit."

"Well, it can't be a physical object because one cannot own it if it's manufactured in a factory..."

"Do you want a hint?"

"No, no, I can figure this out."

"I know you can, Ed."

Then there was a knock at the door causing both of you to look up. It was Kristin Kringle, holding some files. You knew the way Ed looked at her, but couldn't help wishing that it was different.

His posture had already changed, that mask slipped back on unnoticeably, but those puppy dog eyes were hard to hide.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"

"No- "

"Yes! I was just asking Ed, here a riddle. You haven't quite answered yet."

"Right, right. Your riddle." Ed clicked his tongue.

"That's okay, I just came to drop these off for detective Alvarez." She chuckled awkwardly, adjusted her glasses, and then left rather quickly.

"I give up... I'm not quite sure as to what it is. I'm sorry."

"My heart."

"Uhm... Excuse me?"

"That's what the answer is."

"You uh... Are- What does this mean?"

"Ed, I like you. I figured I would tell you in a way that you would enjoy, mostly because you almost always are telling me riddles every day. I'm sorry. Should I have been straight forward?"

"I don't..."

"I'm not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"This isn't rejection, but, erm... Can we discuss this after work?"

"Of course!"

Oswald "Ozzie" Chesterfield Cobblepot

He worked in that night club across the street. Always out in the Gotham rain with an umbrella. The bigger guys would hurt him, kick him while he was down. He had this little waddle to him.

He was bloodied and bruised in the alleyway beside the bakery. You loved how quite and quaint the bakery was. The last thing you wanted to see was someone bleeding out in the rain, blood mixing with the water and running down the sidewalk.

Now, it was bad enough already that he was out here, but getting your apron bloody and dirty because you wanted to pick him up and move him inside was another story entirely. Another bad thing.

When he opened his eyes and saw a ceiling that wasn't at all like the sky of Gotham he got a little panicked and started to freak out.

When you carried in a tea tray with breakfast he stopped struggling with the blanket and fell off the bed.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold on. I'm not the best at dressing wounds so I don't think you should get up!" You set the tray down and quickly helped him back into bed.

"Who... Who are you? Why'd you do this? What did you do?"

"Relax, I found you on the sleep and helped you."

"You... You helped me?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh, my friend! How I hoped someone as kind as you could find me!" He tried to leap from the bed but he was immediately holding his side and wincing.

"Hey, hey. You shouldn't just get up yet! I have to... to stitch the wound closed."

"Oh-" His smile sank.

Then Oswald wouldn't leave your side.

He was stuck to you like glue from then on. Like, he would not let you go somewhere on your own. All because you helped him when he was hurt. It was odd, but you didn't mind.

Thanks to Fish Mooney's place, not many customers came by the bakery leaving you alone to make new pastry ideas and such. So it was nice to have some company.

Of course, you taught him how to decorate pastries since you were afraid that if he tried to make them with the machine he would almost kill himself. He started off easy with simple cookie and cupcake designs.

He was always in your line of sight while you worked on your little project. It was a bird themed line of pastries, currently you were working on penguins, all kind of penguins though. There were so many types and you wanted to make each on unique. Emperor penguins were on cupcakes, Gentoo penguins were on cookies, Chinstrap were on truffles, and Adelie on brownies.

You noticed he was blankly staring at the penguins on your work bench when you looked up from the cookie you were desperately trying to get right. You'd printed out a picture and stuck it to the wall next to you. At first you thought he was just being creepy and staring at you but, no, he was staring at the penguin made out of icing.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't like penguins?" He tensed up at that. Looking back down at the cupcakes he was decorating, the frosting was a nice purple color in a large swirl.

"I can do them in another room if-"

"No, no! It's okay!" You were starting to get used to his little outbursts but it still shocked you how loud his voice could be. "You- You can keep working! I don't care!" He was shaking.

Then he avoided you after that. It was a small place so it wasn't like he had anywhere to go, especially because he didn't want to go back to Fish.

So you approached him later that night, he was sitting on the couch holding his umbrella. When the floor board creaked he had gotten up and brandished it like a weapon.

"It's just me!" You held your hands up like he was pointing a gun at you.

"Oh, you." He sounded so deflated, unenthusiastic. His demeanor changed so quickly.

"You think I'm a penguin just like the rest of them. Don't you?" You didn't say anything so he took the opportunity to speak. His voice was level and he wasn't shouting, at least no yet.

"Huh? You think I'm your flappy, flippered, defenseless friend?!"

He raised his voice but didn't move. You didn't either.

"No... I just think you're Ozzie..." You hesitated.

"You're the only one who does, well, except for my mother." It was apparent he seemed to calm down, setting his umbrella to lean against the couch.

"Do you want some tea? Maybe we could talk-"

"I really like you. So it hurt when I thought you were like the others."

"Oh, you're talking about Fish and those guys that beat you up."

"I don't want you to leave. You're so nice, and so kind unlike all the other rotten souls in Gotham. Please, I'll do anything for you to stay!"

"I'm not going anywhere, just in the kitchen to put the kettle on." He'd hugged you around your middle as he pleaded with you. You didn't think he actually was crying until now.

"I don't want to go back. I don't want to see her again. Let me stay! I can be useful!"

"Ozzie, I like you too, which is why I'm not kicking you out. I'd rather you stay here then see you get kicked and punched out there." You didn't try to move because he had a grip like a snake on your mid-section. You stood there and petted his hair softly as he sobbed into your clothes.

It wasn't a lie, you actually did really like him and didn't want to see him go back to getting hurt. You knew nothing about the crime of Gotham, mainly because your dad dealt with it all to keep you innocent and naive. He was gone now, so this was the situation you're in.

"Can- Can you make some tea?" He was sniffling and pulling away awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll make some tea and then we can talk."

"Talk about what?"

"What's going to be happening from here on out."

[sp4rkzzy]

I'm gonna bawl Everytime I go on tiktok I see moots of mine complaining and and hating hazbin hotel. Like I get that you don't like it.. but it's a popular ass show and you ain't think maybe your mutuals MIGHT get into a POPULAR fandom. It happens everytime man you can't like SHIT

" Vivzie's trash" or " The writing sucks "

Erm. Okay. If vivzie's problematic.. you don't think that everyone who's been watching since the pilot doesn't know that..? We literally know but. Let people enjoy a media for fucksake

Like oh no I watched their show!! This means they're going to go kill a family LIKE IT DOESN'T AFFECT THEIR ACTIONS THEYRE GONNA ACT THE SAME.

And just because you watch it, doesn't mean you support them. " But she makes [bad] jokes. " Yeah, and I don't like that, and I'm not going to agree with those, but I can't stop her from making those.

This isn't even just hazbin hotel btw. If you like even ANYTHING the amount of SHIT you will get is insane. Like, guys!! When you make a post saying "don't be a hater" THAT MEANS IN GENERAL!!! LITERALLY NO EXPECTATION!!

Like how you gonna make a video saying that but you still gonna hate on MFS WHO like gacha, or hazbin/helluva, or TADC, or MFS who have emojis in their name (specifically the ones for Tally Hall, Miracle Musical, And Lemon Demon)

GOD there's more.

" erm, isn't (media) (insert a bad thing). " I FUCKING get that GOKUSLEFTNUTSACK (joke)

You think I ain't hear about that 50 times before!!! I get that. I can't PICK what my brain decides to fixate on.

And yes. The show is bad, there's horrible writing, horrible jokes, but like. It's literally like every adult swim cartoon I've ever seen. And I don't see you canceling MFS who like South Park or Moral Oral, or Robot Chicken, or Even Rick n Morty even though there's a ton of sex jokes, gore, adult content (In some I know, Im not rlly fans of these)!!!

The series is about HELL and it's literally over all like 15+ & 18+. HELLUVA BOSS LITERALLY STATES IN THE TITLE/INTRO ITS 18+ HALF THE TIME. THIS IS PEEK ADULT SWIM BACK IN THE DAYS

LIKE "they curse too much" do you HEAR how much people actually curse irl? In literally two sentences I can hear 5 curses from some kid at school. Besides they're DEMONS. SINNERS. THEYRE IN HELL. THEY ARENT GOOD PEOPLE.

And then some are also pissed when ABUSIVE characters *are* ABUSIVE..

"It's a dookie representation" Abusers are literally different and act completely different.

You can dislike the series and shit, by all means I completely get that but GOD

Let people enjoy something damn. I hate how I got fixated on hazbin hotel, honestly. I knew the hate, I knew how bad overall vivziepop is known to be, but it still happened. And come on. It's a show, it's a event, people are gonna grow outta it in like. A month. Just let it happen, it'll disappear just like TADC, just like Welcome Home, just like Anything that gets popular.

[greensagephase]

Dropping this at your inbox and then running away…

Haha no but seriously

I’ve talked to you about how I’m trying to work on Peter and his looks, I’m still figuring out how to draw him on my own style…

But in this case while I was looking for references I found a picture of the model on whom Peter Parker of insomniac videogame is based on and I just thought he looked so freaking cute there I melted 😭😭😭, im actually now obsessing over him , and I decided to try copy the picture (although the drawing it’s not that close to the style I’m focusing on my Peter drawings, it’s a lil bit different cause also I don’t know how to stick into a style yet I’m still figuring it out).

Anyway my thoughts just kept leading me on the fact that this would be a perfect picture that my Spider would have on her wall, one of the many she has of her Peter, it would probably have been taken by her on a date night where she took an improv picture of him looking at her softly 🥺🥺🥺🥺 or smth like that, idk I keep picturing lot of soft scenarios for Peter that I think I’m going insane.

So I drew a picture frame over it and her hands caressing the picture (?) Poe maybe giving it a kiss before putting it back on the wall, like it happened on one of the chapters of NVC, cause I’m a sucker about all those sweet tender moments where she remembers Peter, means so much to me, cause even before all these Spiderverse things and hyper fixations over Miguel, Peter(Spider-Man) is my favourite super hero so he has a special place in my heart.

So yeah here it is, a lil rendition to my Peter, that can change when I figure more out his style rather than basing him that much on the model hehe

No, the way I opened the ask and saw the drawing - let me just give you a mental picture of me - just imagine a woman sitting at her desk and looking at her laptop and then opening this and she just starts banging her fist on the desk and trying very hard not to scream too loud but also hyperventilating BECAUSE THIS IS SO FREAKING CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!! AND TENDER, AND SWEET AND ANA YOU GOT ME INTERNALLY SCREAMING AND REALLY CRYING!!!!!!!!!

The actor/model for Peter in the insomniac videogame - I think I'm going to start obsessing over him, too, don't mind me because HE'S SO CUTE!! Talking about him with you also makes me want to play the videogames even though I suck at those type of games but I'm seriously considering playing it!! (I've tried just swinging around and it was so much fun, hehe!!)

You got me CRYING over how this would be a photo of Peter on your spidersona's wall - you're SO RIGHT!!!!! And the little backstory on how this would be taken during a date night and reader capturing this moment randomly and the way it would be just one of the many, many, many times of Peter just staring at reader like this, with such pure love and adoration for her - I'm not doing well at all, I have REAL TEARS in my eyes right now just thinking about it!!!

🥺😭 It's so so crazy and I mentioned it so many times before to @sunsetdoodler but I never imagined reader's Peter to become so important to me - like, I'm fully attached to this character even though he's not an active character in the story but every time I write about him, my heart melts. PETER AND READER LOVED EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!! Their love was so beautiful and special - and I'm rambling now but I love talking about our Peter so much and seriously, this is so freaking sweet, tender, and beautiful to think about. I mentioned it in my message but sometimes I get the urge to write something about Peter and reader - like a regular day in their lives and how they interacted before he passed away in a one-shot but I swear - I don't think my heart could take it. I would be crying the entire time, I think 😭😭

AND OMG READER GIVING IT A KISS LIKE SHE DID IN THAT PART my brain can't think of which part specifically rn but I know which one you're talking about and I'm crying even more now when I have a mental image of what that picture looks like!!!!! I'm not doing well but in a good way, I swear!!! 😭😭😭

Also, I feel you so much!!! Peter (Spider-Man) has always had a special place in my heart even since I was a kid. Spider-Man was the first superhero I watched on theaters (Tobey Maguire's Peter) and ever since then, Spider-Man has been one of my top favorite superheroes!! No matter what new superhero pops up, Spider-Man is always there for me!!!

Ana, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THIS WITH ME 😭❤️ It's made my night and even though I'm crying, they're happy tears!! Also, I'm so excited to continue to see your Peter take shape as you work on him and find your style drawing him. What I've seen already has a chokehold on me !!! 😭 THANK YOU!!!!!! 🥺❤️

[knickynoo]

I think one of the more interesting things in Family Ties, in regards to the personalities of the Keaton family, is how extremely similar Steven and Alex actually are.

Like, despite them being close and having an overall great father/son relationship, so much of the dynamic between them is built on their differences. There's a lot of mention of how they don't agree politically, often have conflicting priorities, are on very different levels emotionally, etc--and all that's true--but they're also SO ALIKE that it's comical when you really start to notice it.

I mean, you sit there watching Alex, going, "What is up with this guy? Why is he like this??" but then you really look at Steven and it's like, "Yeah, okay. Makes sense." And I'm mostly referring to Alex's quirks here because...he absolutely got them from his father.

Alex's "all or nothing" way of handling things? Steven is the same way. When he goes all in on something, he is ALL IN. And when he doesn't like something or is upset? He's all out.

The way that Alex goes from zero to completely obsessed, unable to think about or do anything else except for his current fixation? There are literally Steven-centered storylines about him doing this exact thing. (The episode where all he does is obsess over the family's energy usage, and one where he has his very intense "magician" phase are just 2 that come to mind)

The fact that Alex cannot handle any change in his life, big or small, and needs very structured routines? Yeah, hi; let me introduce you to Steven Keaton--who also gets immediately weird at even the mention of a potential change. There's a whole two-part episode where his storyline centers around his life basically falling apart when Elyse and the girls decide to remodel the kitchen. The man also once broke into a rash when Elyse bought a different brand of napkins. So, suddenly, Alex's whole, "Something in my life is slightly different, and I am DYING," mentality makes a little more sense.

And I love noticing all those things that connect them in that way and the fact that it makes you go, yeah, they are definitely related. Like father, like son. Lots of Brain Weirdness between those two.

[natsmagi]

(future au anon) OKAY BE READY BC IT'S VERY ANGSTY me and my friend loves angst wayy too much lol

So uh first of all tw suicide :')

Yeah hum i guess you can guess where it went with that

Basically Tsumugi unalived himself yeah-

Which traumatized Natsume and their daughter, Marisa (i was the one who made her!) pretty hard and now they're suuuper overprotective of eachother in fear anything happens to the others like calling each other VERY often Marisa would even get late to practice sometimes (bc ofc most kids are idols too and with time we decided ES accepted girls and other genders too) and Marisa often sleep at home too instead of the ES dorms and like if Anything remotely bad happens to his daughter Natsume would go MAD

It also affected Marisa personality a lot since she was pretty young when that happened so now she's SUPER parano and anxious about her loved ones wellbeing and like she would cling to her friends a lot and always ask them if they're okay bc she always worries they ever..you know. Do what Tsumugi did

Also Marisa is a big nerd (is that the term) she's super into books, animes/mangas, games and such and also a looot into the magic stuff her dad does teehee she also likes drawing and i like to imagine she's the one designing her unit clothes

ANYWAY but its time i actually explain why Tsumugi did what he did. So uh very basically me and my friend decided Eichi died of his illness to give the Wataei family angst which well ended with ES in a MESS since Eichi is like. An important figure in it yk. And so Tsumugi as he now became President of NewDi OR WHATEVER YOU CALL IT got super stressed and pressured with stuff (also grief of Eichi dying) and also with time the idol industry became much more strict and uh. Overworking? Idk how to explain but uh yeah all that was just too much for poor Mugi

It might be ooc idk,,but i decided to not have any mercy to the Eccentrics in this au (i mean do we have mercy on anyone really) and so uh oopsies Natsume i took ur husband away

Damn i ended up rambling a lot sorry i got excited,,i love this au i lot i would love to tell u more if ur ever interested?? :')

IM ??????? WELL THAT WAS NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING THATS FOR SURE

BUT IT IS A REALLY INTERESTING PREMISE........ im not the angstiest guy myself sorry im a big fan of happiness and joy and love but id say this is a very good foundation for the story ur telling from what im hearing !! and given the circumstances of everything i can see these events taking place....... BUT I CANT STOP THINKING ABT THE EMOTIONAL TURMOIL NATSUME WOULD GO THROUGH. like given everything theyve been through, all their promises together, baby tsumugi vowing "lets become happy together, you and me" to natsume-chan when they were kids, now even forming a family together, thinking theyve gotten their happy ending, only for the man he loves to then take his own life due to stress and anguish. im very fixated on the feeling of "i wasnt enough/i didnt do enough" natsume would be suffering through. the amount of regret he'd face. maybe wishing he'd been nicer to tsumugi. had put in more effort. given him a stronger sense of love and security while he had the chance, but now hes gone and the only memory he has left of him is marisa. This au sure is getting the brain juices pumping THATS FOR SURE

[wiktorianala]

Ma yapping about a game I just finished if anyone would care (and probably at some point getting out of topic, so just starting to talk about other stuffs)\/

Ok, so I just finished dsaf3 "good ending" and... what the fuck. Just to make things straight I accually replayed it 2nd time now, because 1st time was few hours ago, in the morning with no sleep so my brain was almost turned off, so ending seemed, not really interesting, nor emotional, at least not as much as innternet maked it seem, so that's why I just replayed it from last save (I just woke up so brain working just finey) and OH MY GOD WHO LET THIS MAN COOK? Like I've gotta say, I thought that I was "crying" hard over "evil route" (because honestly it not really made me cry but rather left me sad as fuck and not knowing what to do with myself), but holy shit after this thing I genuelly was in front of screen crying like a little fuckin baby (and stil left not knowing what to do with myself). I don't really think any game ever made me cry this hard, nah I bet I could say any piece of media. Gosh even now I want to cry again. Anyway I honestly was suprised that part that mostly break me was not the after battle with henry on flipside, but rather, at the end just thos tumbstones and all. Maybe because it all just cumulated at the end, I dunno. Honestly it's surelly gotta be for me one of thos games, for which I wish I could erase my memory, just to expirience them once more for first time. Closest to this might be when I'll finally get out of phase for it, for a longer time, just to replay entire serie again. Gotta say that arter palying all mayor routes from all 3 games (+ quite a few smaller ones) this serie surelly jumps into "fave games" category, right under portal2 (which is hightest place a game for me can go, because srry, but I hold very nostalgic connection for portal, and even if I'll find a game that I'll like more, thare's just like, I dunno a part of me saying "nostalgia at first place" so I can do shit about it), and that means I really fckn enjoyed it, because for now my faves only had "tier one (AKA. portal2)", and "tier two" wich was rest of my fave games, and now it has tier one (still the same), tier two which now include dsaf and tier three which is rest of faves (and if someone's interested "how much games are then here rn in total", answear would be... lemme check, It's five games in total on my fave list or more like "tha ultimate fave ones", and it's not because I play not many games, but rather that I rarelly find games that strike me in the way that, I don't know how to put it into words. I guess I just rarelly find "that one" type of stuff). Wait... didn't I get off topic? Hard to say. Ok, so anyway I really enjoyed it despite all of the cryies that occured ( and by this I mean not only 3rd game but honestly entire franchise because on "good ending" in 2nd game I broke too, and on just as I said somewhere before on "evil route" in 3rd too (on first one not thought, but it doesn't make me like it less) ( but no matter what 3rd is surelly my fave out of all)). And when I'll put my mind together , I'll think about concept for fanart (just like with evil route, a fanart directly of an specific ending) and maybe in spare time will make some doodles ( I'll have to think about in which art style it'll be(or wich one will fit it the best)). I know- I know I tend to make quite a lot (at least for my standards) arts from dsaf, BUT IT'S MY CURRENT FIXATION SO, I'M SORRRRRY. I guess next game I'll be playing will be dialtown, but for that to happen i want it to get on sale (just, so I could buy base game with dlc in price of just base (I know it don't work that way but I don't care))Yeah so ummm, that's all? I guess yes. Just like last time I bet noones reading that(and I don't mind it, after all I'm the one who decides to don't add tags to any just txt type of post, just so it won't pop up at any random person page, god it would feel awkward, especially looking at the point that I'm just writing the way that I would talk to someone so "first thing that comes to mind get noted" so after some amount of time, stuffs that I write feel really stupid/cringey. Shit I'm off topic again) Anyway, Byee~*

[dex-starr]

I admit it. I grew to need you. Far more than you realized, not that I’m ashamed of it. But I reached the point where I didn’t know how to function without you. I just wasn’t willing to say it out loud or show it. Part of my problem was I grew comfortable but not in the sense of like softening up to you, I grew comfortable not rocking the boat. When I met you, when I decided to be with you — when I admitted my feelings to you I decided to become a person who rocks the boat to get what they want. It’s why I pushed, because I had strong feelings I didn’t expect to have. Those kept growing. Somewhere in there something made me complacent in the wrong way. Something scared me or maybe multiple things did and I was reminded of losing things that are precious to me. So I played it safe, I played it so safe it frustrated you to no end. It was an unfair thing to do when our dreams and goals were put very clearly.

Regardless of whatever crisis I’m having — identity wise, career wise, mental illness wise — I didn’t do what I intended to do and that caused a lot of hurt on both ends. Too much to repair maybe. It’s funny — I still feel that drive in me somewhere. I feel that cockiness and assuredness that kept on emerging in me because of you and because I wanted to be with you. I needed you and that was absolutely fine — but I wasn’t letting that occur because I was afraid to put this responsibility on you. That was kind of dumb of me I mean I was supposed to rely on you and didn’t let myself do that. I could still be all these other things but show you the parts no one else sees. But I just lost myself a bit, I mean I’m still kind of lost. Illness made it hard to be me because I was physically miserable to the point it affected my mind and quality of life. My depression was out of control — that’s better now. But man my ADHD is wild and I see the problems it causes. I see how contentious I can be, I don’t need to be that to you or someone who gets that close. I’ll still be like that with the rest of the world most likely. It’s difficult to rewrite almost two decades of shitty experiences.

God I think I can be so fucking great sometimes. When I ride that wave I do things that make people happy and proud and I love it. But when I’m misguided I hurt everyone and lose the things I care for the most. When I get scared I pull away and it seems like I don’t care, but I do I just don’t want to fuck it up even more. That little unhinged don’t give a fuck go for it part of me wants to risk again but very specifically. It’s kind of pointless to though, like you’re not seeing this. You’d doubt what I’d say and what I would do. You have good reasons to, I don’t have a great track record but it’s not horrid. The problem is it’s my word fighting against the wiring of my brain there. CBT helps some but man I need medication. I need it so bad. Not being able to get it due to shortages is killing me.

I can only ride the good hyper-focus and hyper-fixations for so long, it’s much different than what I felt about being together bc like yeah there were a lot of things that sucked about distance. Too many things. Too many things I couldn’t explain well enough. Too many things I didn’t have answers about, too many things that got dropped for reasons I didn’t even know why I was doing it. I was really trying to be good though, I was trying to be good husband material it’s just hard man I don’t have good examples. I learn through trial and so much error. I have reached here, this person I have because of error. Because of the errors I was so afraid to tell you of, the errors I still needed to break. I know I’m good — I could be better and improve a lot but I at least know this.

The only things I can point at that may be bad are my anger at the world and contentiousness because of it. I’m abrasive when I want to be, I don’t fucking care when I want to. I can be spiteful but not act on it. I can be so many bad things. I can let you down so much as a person that is a harsh truth that I have accepted because I want to work on these things. I need to do accept them in order to work on it.