#and thinking about the tattoos..... and i felt. inspired

[concreteangel92]

The Angel Of The Night

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: smut, PiV, oral (female receiving) praise kink, slight obsessive/stalker elements (this is based off of the ghost of the opera house himself 🤣) talks of the death of loved ones, dark romance, I’m pretty sure that’s it

So this has been in the works since August when I watched the phantom of the opera in Greece on my first night there haha I’ve always loved this show (west end and film!) and I even have a tattoo dedicated to it so it was a no brainer to me that Noah would fit perfectly into this aesthetic!

The mask (especially the new one!!) the glove, his voice all mixed with an old theatre and gothic aesthetic and atmosphere? Hell fucking yes!!

Remember that this is an inspired fic so you’ll see familiar names, themes, etc but it’s not the actual whole story! But if you’re a fan of the soundtrack, you may recognise a few lyrics here and there 🤭

I hope you all enjoy it, it’s a long one so grab yourself a cuppa and I’ll see you on the next fic. Also please let me know your thoughts!! I’d love to know what you all think as this is definitely the longest I’ve ever spent writing one story haha let me know, you can always message me anonymously if you’re shy 🖤

Tags: @triedbimsoblu333 @I00na24 @iluvmewwwww75 @veronicaphoenix @tosoundlessdarkistare @specialstay @dsireland86 @philomenie @clingylittlebun-blog @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lilcrazy011

Masterlist

You’d been with your theatre company since you were a child, having lost your parents at a young age, the opera house is all you have ever really known.

You loved it here, the old theatre was your home. You knew every wing like the back of your hand, every creaky floorboard backstage, how the orchestra pit echoed when no one was in it, you knew the creepiest parts that no one like to venture into. You loved it all, it was your sanctuary.

There was something about the theatre that made you feel at peace, standing up on the stage in front of a huge audience, hearing their cheers and cries that made your heart swell. The heat of the spotlights, the magic you felt as you danced to beat of the live music, everything about it made you feel so alive.

The year was 1870 in Paris and you were currently playing the leading role in the current opera ‘Hannibal’

It was your debut as the leading lady and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

You walked quietly around the empty stalls of the theatre, taking in its musky smell, the beautiful architecture of the building and the huge crystal chandelier that hung high above your head. You ran your fingers across the old red velvet on the chair in front of you and sat yourself down in one of the seats near the pit.

The stage was empty but you could hear the hustle and bustle backstage of the cast and crew getting everything ready for opening night tonight, although there was still hours to go, there was still much more that needed to be set up.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously in your lap, taking a deep breath, you couldn’t help but speak aloud softly.

“Please….please let tonight go well”

You kept your eyes closed as you leant back in the chair, allowing a moment for yourself to process the evening that you knew lay ahead. You were certain you had been alone….until you heard his voice.

From high up above your head, in the gods, you heard his beautiful, ethereal voice humming down to you.

With a small gasp, you opened your eyes and looked up into darkness, and there amongst the ropes and pulleys of the backdrops and lights, you saw his silhouette and instantly a small smile appeared on your lips.

“There you are”

Your words were barely a whisper, your angel of music was right there with you. You should have known he wouldn’t be far away.

“Y/N what are you doing down there? You need to get ready for tonight!”

You tore your eyes away from your mysterious friend and saw your teacher/guardian Madame Giry standing in the wings on stage left.

“Yes Madame”

You casted up eyes up once more to the heavens to see that he was gone, like a ghost who was never there in the first place.

•••••

He was nicknamed the ‘Opera Ghost’

No one in the theatre ever questioned that box 5 was always left empty so no customer could use it, people ignored the eerie echoes of his angelic singing that seemed to come from no where all around the old building. No one had ever seen him fully, only catching glimpses of his shadow in the night.

No one, but you.

You were the only person to have had any interaction with the ghost. He had started visiting you when you were a child, you were 8 years old when your parents had met their tragic end and you were fated to the theatre. It wasn’t long after that you started to hear his voice in the night.

It started off with just singing, he comforted you when you were crying yourself to sleep, not having come to terms with the loss of your parents and the change that was about to happen within your life. You had felt so alone, you hardly knew anyone within the company, the only reason you came to be here was because Madame Giry was a close friend to your mother and she had agreed to take you in when they died.

But in those long, lonely first nights and weeks, his beautiful voice helped you drift off to sleep.

As the years went on, the beautiful voice became deeper and he started to talk to you quietly from within the walls, the mirror, you never knew exactly where he was but you always knew he was there.

In recent years, he had been singing your songs with you, helping you train your soprano skills, a patient teacher and a loyal companion is what you knew him to be.

Although you knew people had dubbed him the ‘opera ghost’ you felt that wasn’t a suitable title for this angelic creature so you called him your very own ‘angel of the night’ which was a nickname you often heard him whispering back to you.

Your angel wasn’t just a teacher to you anymore, he had become a friend. You told him all your hopes, dreams and your darkest fears. You’d talk to him until you heard the faint sound of the birds chirping and saw the first rays of the morning sun rising over the horizon through your window.

He would still sing you to sleep on the nights you struggled, when the past traumas returned in the forms of nightmares, he was always there to help take your fears away.

His voice was like nothing you had ever heard before. He sounded almost like a siren calling out to his awaiting victims and just like one, you felt the pull within your soul every time he called.

Tonight was the opening night, your big debut, but that wasn’t the only reason for your nerves. You knew he’d be there, watching from box 5, hidden within the shadows, but always there.

“Will he be impressed? Will I be everything he hoped for?”

These thoughts plagued your mind as you walked down the corridor, your heels clicking with every step, until you reached your dressing room/living quarters.

You wrapped your hand around the old doorknob and turned it so your door swung open with a creak.

In front of you was your dressing room, your bedroom was through the door at the back of the room, the walls were a beautiful shade of red, almost matching the seats in the theatre stalls out front. There were beautiful paintings in gold frames on the walls of your favourite artwork, a huge mirror that took up one wall, a rail of costumes and props lined another, you had your changing screen next to that and then you also had your beautiful make up vanity, surrounded by candles and all your make up and jewellery that was laid out for you on the counter.

But what caught your attention was the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, roses of the darkest red lay across your chair with a hand written piece of paper on top.

You walked over and picked up your present, inhaling their beautiful scent while you read the note.

‘To my beautiful angel’

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you knew it was him, he had left you a good luck token in preparation for tonight.

You felt your nerve’s ease, you knew you could do this, as you knew your angel would be watching over you.

•••••

The sounds of a standing ovation, loud cheers and clapping filled your ears as you took your final bow, flowers of all kinds being thrown onto the stage around your feet.

The show had gone without a hitch, your solo performance had been an absolute triumph that brought the audience to their feet. Throughout the production you had tried glancing up at box 5, hoping to see a glimpse of him but of course, nothing. Just the sight of the curtains moving gently when it was take to take the bows, almost like they had been caught in the non existent breeze.

Your vision was blocked completely as the main house curtain fell to the stage, muffling out the sounds of the audience still cheering from the other side.

You felt yourself being embraced by your fellow cast and crew members, all congratulating you on your performance.

“That what incredible!”

“Bravo!”

“Y/N you were sensational!”

You felt your cheeks go warm at all the compliments, the adrenaline still fully pumping through your body as you tried to catch your breath.

You thanked everyone and helped pick up the flowers littered across the stage to take back to your dressing room.

“He was there, I know he was! I wonder if he liked it?”

You felt butterflies start in your stomach at the thought, you would never want to disappoint him, you craved to know how he felt. You couldn’t wait to get back to your room.

You once again gave everyone your thanks and made your leave, half jogging down the corridors behind the theatre.

Once you entered your room, you put down all your flowers, taking note of even more bouquets that had been sent here from different admirers that were now spread around and all the lanterns and candles were burning beautifully, giving the room a beautiful golden glow.

You walked behind your changing screen and started to remove your heavy dress, a costume you were relieved to be out of, finally feeling like you could breathe normally once the corset was gone. You settled for a simple white lace dress that fell to floor. You removed all the pins from your hair and allowed it to cascade down your back. You were about to remove the make up on your face when you heard a knock at your door.

You called out for them to enter and you looked up into your mirror and saw Madame Giry standing there with another body behind her.

“Sorry to disturb you Y/N but there is someone who would like to meet you?”

You turned around and glanced behind and saw a handsome young man standing almost nervously on the spot with his top hat in his hands. He had short dark hair, was an average height and was wearing a formal dinner suit fit for the theatre.

You nodded and Madame Giry stepped aside so he could walk forward.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you”

You smiled politely, stood and offered your hand for him to grasp in his own as he bowed his head gently.

“My name is Henry Edwards. Do excuse my intuition miss, I was just so captivated by your performance that I wanted to give my congratulations in person. I’ve actually seen many performances here at this theatre but tonight was by far the best I have ever seen”

You smiled wider at his words, his face definitely looking more familiar now that he’s mentioned he’d been here before. You’d often seen him admiring your dancing in previous productions.

“Thank you Mr Edwards, you are too kind”

“If I was to be so bold Miss Y/N, I would love to be able to discuss your performance further, perhaps over tea or a stroll around the park?”

You were taken back by his proposal, not used to men being so forward with you or even desiring you at all really.

“Oh erm…yes, I…I think that would be a lovely idea”

You panicked, you knew you weren’t particularly interested in the man in front of you but what harm was there to be courted for an afternoon.

Henry looked very pleased as he fumbled over a thank you, his next words were lost on you as you suddenly felt a presence within the room, the presence of someone who wasn’t happy at all.

You turned your head to the big mirror behind you and watched as a few of the near by candles flickered angrily before going out completely, leaving nothing but whips of smoke behind.

“Mine”

The word was whispered so low and dragged out that it almost sounded like the wind, but you knew better, the realisation sending chills down your spine.

You turned back and caught Madame Giry’s gaze, it was as shocked as your own, she knew.

“Well Mr Edwards, I’m sorry but that will be all for tonight, Miss Y/L/N is extremely tired and needs to rest her voice. Come back in a couple days to arrange this meeting?”

Madame had already started pulling gently on his arm and gesturing for him to leave, he looked baffled at first but soon composed himself.

“Oh erm…yes, yes, of course. Goodnight Miss Y/L/N and I’ll pop by in a few days?”

You nodded with a forced smile as you watched as he slipped his top hat back upon his head and walked out of the room, Madame Giry giving you one last look before shutting the door behind her, the sound echoing through the empty room.

But you knew you were far from alone.

You turned around to face the mirror, staring at your own reflection, the sound of his quiet humming started once more and you felt pulled towards the mirror.

Almost like you were in a trance, you stepped forward, your eyes glued to your own reflection until you noticed another pair of eyes staring back at you from over your shoulder.

You should have been afraid, you should have called out for help, but you didn’t.

Dark almond eyes gazed back into your own, his face becoming more clearer the closer you got. But it wasn’t his whole face you saw. It was covered by half of a white mask, almost like he was trying to hide his true identity.

You stood frozen in place as your angel came fully into view, it was like he’d appeared from the mirror itself, like he truly was a mystical creature from another world.

His song was hypnotising, the melody causing your head to feel so light and airy, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looked up in your dream like state to see him standing in front of you.

You reached your hand out without a thought and was met with a hard, firm chest, your angel was truly here.

Taking in his appearance, he was even more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. He was tall, extremely tall and towered over your small frame and was just as broad in his chest and back. You could see he had shiny, brown hair that was falling down to his neck, it looked so soft that you felt the urge to run your fingers through it.

Your angel was wearing a black suit with a long black cloak over the top and of course the half mask, you had never wanted to remove something so much in your life, his face was absolutely perfect, why would he hide? His eyes appeared darker now he was in front of you, he had the most intense stare that you’d ever seen, it was like he could see into your very soul and read your every thought.

The last thing you took note of was his tattoos that were peaking out over his collar and on his right hand, his other being covered with a black leather glove. It was unusual to see a man around these parts that had tattoos, you’d never seen any before.

He moved around your body slowly, his hands running up through the air next to your arms, not touching but still your skin felt like it had been set alight. As his hands came up near your face, he gestured for you to look ahead.

“Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside. I am your angel of music”

You inhaled deeply as you took in the sight of him standing directly behind you, his whole presence was consuming you.

His face suddenly looked angry as he whispered his next words.

“Insolent boy. Does your young suitor really think that he can take what’s mine?”

You turned to face him, the thought of your angel being angry with you was too much to bare.

“Angel my soul is weak, forgive me! Yours is the only one that calls me”

He stood staring down into your eyes, like he was trying to find a lie but he would find none. You knew your heart belonged to him, it always had.

“Hide no longer from me”

Your words were hardly audible but you knew he’d heard. No words were given in return, all you could hear the was sounds of his beautiful song again as it’s filled your mind. He walked back around your body and backed himself up towards the mirror, that was when he held out his hand to you, you took it without hesitation.

Your head light as a feather, you followed him willingly, you hardly paid attention to where you were going or how you got there, all that mattered was that you were with him. His siren song never once stopping as you made your way down the dimly lit corridors heading down to the catacombs beneath the city.

The walls were lined with candles, all lit up, the air was damp and cold against your skin.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Your beautiful angel in front of you, he could have been leading you to the pits of hell and you wouldn’t have cared. He kept looking back at you every so often, as if to make sure you hadn’t vanished.

Coming up to the waters edge, you noticed a small boat ready, he stepped into it first and one again extended his hand out, you took it and stepped into the boat after him.

The foggy feeling never left, you felt so free, so light, like nothing could touch you ever again. It was almost like you’d become a spirit of another realm, not of this earth but not quite moved onto the next.

You continued to listen to his voice, just as he always had done, he soothed away any of your fears. You took note of all the burning candles, the way the water lapped up the sides and casted a beautiful rippling reflection up on the walls.

As you rowed further into the catacombs, you saw your destination. This could only be his home.

It was breathtaking, even more candles lit the area and it was living space in the middle of the caves. Artwork, statues and musical instruments of all kinds surrounded you. And roses, dark red roses everywhere.

You closed your eyes as you felt the inner peace of contentment washed over you, you couldn’t describe it any other way, it was like you were in a dream.

The sound of his voice gently stopped as he got out of the boat and you stood to follow, allowing him to place his hands on your waist and lift you easily onto the floor.

You started to turn your head around to take in your surroundings but you felt his fingers grasp your chin gently but firm and pulled your face back to meet his.

You tilted your head and glanced down at his lips, wondering if he would lean down into you.

Gazing up into his face, you really took in his features, he was absolutely perfect. Your eyes wandered to the mask and your hand reached up slowly to push it off of him before you even truly thought of your actions.

Your hand was stopped by his gripping onto your wrist sharply and tightly, his eyes first the first time showing any sort of vulnerability as he shook his head slightly.

“Why do you hide from me angel?”

He brought your hand back down gently and took a deep breath.

“Because I would repulse you, you’d run from me”

You brought your free hand up and held onto his cheek, the pads of your fingers gently caressing his smooth skin.

“I could never, you’re my guide, my guardian…my friend”

His eyes soften at your words, you watched the candles fire reflecting and dancing deep within his irises as you waited for his response.

Your angel stood slightly straighter, he let go of your hand and he reached up until the base of the mask was between his fingertips. He hesitated for a moment before he ducked his head down and slid the mask off, his hair falling back into place as it was removed.

When he looked back up, the sight that greeted you was a shock. The whole right side of his face and into his scalp was burnt and had deep scaring. You would have believed it to be painful but it was clear to see that these were not fresh wounds.

You gasped quietly but you didn’t recoil. Instead you raised your hand and held the right side of his neck gently and leaned up and kissed his jagged skin softly, not missing the low moan it pulled from his throat as you did.

“Those that have seen your face draw back in fear. I do not”

“I do not frighten you little one?”

You shook your head and continued to gently stroke his scars.

“Never. Please tell me angel, do you have a name?”

“Noah”

His name left your lips in a whisper, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him. It was a beautiful name that was well suited to the man before you.

His hand came up to brush your hair from your face, you couldn’t help but softy sing his own song back to him, not missing how his eyes darken.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams”

Your eyes fell shut, the next feeling was his lips upon yours, gently moving with you.

It was electric, both of his hands came up to cradle your neck, holding close as he pressed his body into yours.

Pulling away, his hands slowly wandered down your body, your breathing was starting to quicken within your chest.

“Trust me?”

You nodded without hesitation, your eyes never leaving his. Noah then picked you up bridal style and carried you over to a huge king size bed that was covered in red sheets and was surrounded by a black lace canopy.

He set you down onto your feet and moved behind you to start undoing the ties on the back of your dress, letting his fingers trace the skin beneath as he did.

“Where does your soul long to be?”

You turned to face him, your dress loose over your shoulders.

“With you, I belong to you, I have always belonged to you”

He lowered his head down to you and once again captured your lips between his own, this time more passionate than before. Noah slipped his hands into the fabric at the top of your dress and continued to slide it off your shoulders as he moved his head down to start ghosting kisses along your collar bone.

You moved your hands into his hair and finally felt how soft it really was, it was like silk moving between your fingers.

You felt your dress starting to fall off of you, fully aware that your top half was completely bare underneath. You felt the material pool around your feet and his hands settled onto your hips as he continued to kiss and gently bite your skin, moving further down.

Your stomach was starting to tighten, the feeling that was washing over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he started to moved his head lower and gently sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, feeling his warm tongue flicking over the harden bud while his hand came up to caress the other, rolling that nipple between his fingers.

You tried to hold back the noises that your body wanted to make, feeling self conscious of how you must have sounded, something Noah seemed to pick up on easily.

“Savour each sensation my little angel, let me hear you, let your darker side give in to me”

You watched as Noah stood tall and removed the cloak from his shoulders and his jacket and carelessly let them fall to the ground, he then moved you back until your legs hit the bed and he guided you down onto the plush mattress and your body sank into the pillows, his body following yours swiftly after.

You felt his hands running up your bare legs up to your underwear, toying with the waistband teasingly before pulling them off slowly, he was clearly savouring every noise or squirm your body was making under his touch.

“You’re mine my little angel, you belong to me”

You nodded, unable to form any words due to the feeling of him ghosting his lips across your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart slowly.

“Say it”

“I’ve always been yours Noah”

The sound of his name felt so right, he had always been there and you had always been his.

Noah used his hands to push your legs further apart, opening you up for him. A low groan came from deep within his chest as he leant down and licked one slow, long strip up your centre, the feeling sending shock waves through your body and your back to arch off the mattress.

You felt his fingers move to your outer lips to part them gently so he could flick his tongue inside, loving tasting you for the first time.

The sensations that were flooding your body was nothing short of pure ecstasy, Noah continued to eat you out slowly and let his thumb move upward so he could start rubbing firm circles against your clit.

“Oh my….Noah, please!”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, your body felt alive, your stomach was twisting beautifully and your hands found themselves running through his hair, pushing him closer into your centre.

The pleasure that you felt was overwhelming, your thighs were starting to shake, tears were forming in the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t stop the cries that left your mouth.

Noah didn’t stop, he moved his fingers faster and continued to devour you until your legs squeezed around his head and the breath was pulled from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you and you felt like you were floating and falling all at the same time.

Once you started to come back down, you saw that Noah had stripped himself of the rest of his clothes and was settling himself down in between your legs. The sight of how many tattoos he truly had was astonishing.

“I’ve waited so long to feel you around me my little dove”

Noah reached down and gripped himself and ran his head along your folds, your wetness gathering onto him, before he slowly pushed his hips forward, the feeling of him stretching you open was almost sinful.

Your head fell back into the pillows and his head fell into your neck as he growled from the feeling of you. Your hands came and found themselves wrapped around his arms as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re perfect…it’s like you were made for me”

Your cheeks became warm at his words, his praise making your core throb with need.

Noah started moving his hips against yours, it was a torturously slow and deep pace that caused you to feel every inch of him against your walls, your body instantly reacting to his movements.

“You feel incredible around me angel, fuck…you’re so fucking perfect. My perfect little angel”

You moaned loudly, his words mixed with his deep thrusts was intoxicating, your heart was swimming with so many emotions, you never wanted this moment to end.

You reached your hand up and placed it onto his scared skin, wanting to show him that he was beautiful in your eyes. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started to thrust harder, a layer of sweat had now coated both of your bodies and the room echoed with the sounds of your cries and skin slapping onto skin.

“Noah…I..I feel…”

You couldn’t finish your words, you didn’t need to, Noah knew you were near your end. His hips moved faster, the motion pressing your body into the mattress as your nails dug into the skin on his back as your body wound itself up tighter.

“Cum for me, I want to feel you”

Noah’s own hips started to falter as your body was suddenly convulsing underneath his and you screamed out his name, you squeezed your eyes shut as you rode out the waves of your high, feeling Noah’s release deep inside of you as he groaned loudly into your shoulder.

You felt Noah kiss your skin softly as he slipped himself out, the loss leaving you feeling so empty. He brought you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he was frightened you’d leave.

“Stay with me?”

You looked up with a smile and kissed his lips.

“Forever”

Noah smiled back and he pulled the covers over your naked bodies and he started to hum his song once again, the song that you’d known since you were young.

It was beautiful, it was haunting but most of all, it was comforting. You snuggled into his side and allowed your angel of music to sing you into a beautiful, deep sleep.

[plaest2k]

hey, im a young nz artist too and i like making comics/want to do something bigger when im older, and i think your stuff is genuinely so fucking cool. i love it so much. i was wondering how you pursued art after highschool, like did you go to art school? if so, where and what was that like, and if not, how’d you find the time to continue doing it? its always felt like my opportunities for a career in art specifically seem smaller living in nz, but idk your stuff inspires me to think otherwise. thank you :)

kia ora!!

thanks so much for asking, it's truly so flattering that a young nz artist would ask me for advice! <3 sadly i might not necessarily be the best person to ask...

First of all, it's been a loooooong time since i've been a young artist hahaha I'm 32. After high school, I studied architecture at university because, as you're probably aware, we don't really have art schools like our peers do overseas. But after studying for a few years, I had a major depressive episode and dropped out. After that, I ran away to Korea to teach english for a year before coming back to work in cafes for about 6 years. Back then I was pursuing a career in editorial illustration cause that's what all my favourite artists were doing but I didn't realise that it was a dying industry at the time and there weren't exactly lot of full-time professional artists here who could have warned me...

So after about 10 years of trying to piece together some kind of profession in illustration, I ended up looking for a tattoo apprenticeship which was looking pretty promising but my bosses turned out to be not-so-great people. I tried to keep tattooing on my own but that was around the time COVID hit which wasn't (and still isn't) great for a job that requires you meet face-to-face with a lot of people. So, since the pandemic began, I've just been subsisting off of jobseeker, chipping away at comics and the occasional illustration gig.

The whole experience had me perpetually burnt out for the past ~15 years and made me realise that art as a career really just shouldn't be a thing. Under capitalism, it requires either an embarrassing level of compromise, privilege or luck to pursue. All the household-name artists you know in NZ either come from privilege or got unbelievably lucky. I don't say this as a value judgment or anything, most of them are truly wonderful people, it's just what I've learned about them as colleagues who've worked together a few times over the years.

I don't fault anyone for wanting to pursue that, but if you want to make uncompromising art that makes you feel fulfilled, you can't stake your livelihood on it. Art is supposed to be a by-product of life well lived, not content to be sold.

It's why I'm making plans to go back to uni next year to switch careers into a cushy office job because, as you've observed, even if you still want to pursue this as a full-time career, opportunities for artists in Aotearoa is extremely limited.

Having said all that, there's still a lot of nuance to this whole thing that would take me too long to cover in a tumblr post, so if you'd like me to elaborate or anything or have more questions, you're more than welcome to contact me through my email: plaest2k@gmail.com!

And this offer extends to literally anyone who might be looking for advice or just wants to talk about art <3

Final thing: the thought of studying something else at college/ university and keeping your art as a hobby might sound bleak when you're young, but life is so much longer than you think. You might feel like you have limitless creativity and ideas at the moment but when it becomes your entire life, you burn through it all faster than you'd think. It's because you need fuel to inform what you make and you can't get that from just making art. Like I always say, art is a by-product of a life well lived; You need life-experiences; You need to love, hate, care, be hated and loved to make art and you can't do that if you're too busy to do any of that. Those 3 years you spend on a bachelors is nothing in comparison to a lifetime of staring at a blank page, agonizing over what to make next.

[just-one-more-beer]

Rain scene; Rindou x Inupi (smut) MDNI

Art by @rinupi

Inspired by @rinupi and their undying love for this ship.

@rinupi writing prompt that struck a vein of inspiration: "Rindou shows up to Inui's house, soaking wet from the rain". ***

It was a steaming warm summer night. It was usually warm during the summers but somehow it felt like the temperatures wouldn’t stop climbing today. Inupi wiped sweat from his forehead with the little space on his forearm that didn’t have any motor grease on it and glanced at the clock. It was already getting late and he had expected him to show up by now. But it had started pouring relentlessly and the water was already gushing over the edges of the rainpipes. He wiped his hands on the cloth hanging from his overall pocket as he watched the massive amount of water coming down. He undid the top buttons to his overall and tied the sleeves around his waist, tossing his hair out of his face. And right as he was reaching for his pocket to check his phone for any messages he heard the door chime go off and someone came sloshing into the back of the garage. 

“Jesus fucking christ, are the gods trying to drown me?” Rindou cursed as he leaned forward, allowing most of the water to run out of his long hair. 

Inupi felt his breath catch in his throat and his heartbeat pick up as Rindou righted himself. He was soaked until the last thread. His white blouse sheer as it stuck to his upper body, giving him a glorious view of the enormous half-torso tattoo that curved and twisted across his muscles. And his blouse wasn’t the only part of his outfit that had gotten clingy, as his already fitted pantalon had clung to his legs and crotch. The heat made the cool rainwater steam off him in the fading light. He managed to scrape his throat a little as he couldn’t take his trembling eyes off the sight in front of him. 

Rindou pulled back his shoulders and walked up to him slowly, arms spread wide in confidence. “Hmmm? Are you admiring the view?” He hummed in a low, grumbling voice. He grinned as he paused a couple steps away, popping his hip out and putting a hand in his waist. 

“Y-you devil, coming in here looking like that,” Inupi muttered and despite his reluctance he could feel his cheeks glow even hotter. 

Rindou chuckled, closing the gap between them with a couple long strides. “Devilishly handsome, I assume?” He said, clasping Inupi’s chin between his thumb and fingers, forcing him to look up at him. “Are you liking what you see, babe?” He growled as he brought his face closer. 

Inupi tried his best to keep his grease smeared hands and overalls away from the pristine white blouse but he could feel himself stumble backwards. “You’ll get grease all over you,” he tried, glancing up into Rindou’s piercing, violet eyes. 

Rindou squashed him up against the wall. “You think I care about that right now?” He asked, a determined grin dancing across his face.

Inupi felt more than just his cheeks glow hot as he watched drops of rain water seep out of his hair and across his face, dripping into his neck. He could feel his self restraint slip through his fingers like sand as he was pushed up against him like this and he grabbed a fist full of Rindou’s hair as he pulled his head aside, taking his time to lick the trails of rainwater from it. 

Rindou bit his bottom lip and tilted his hips, for there was no point at hiding that he was getting hard as fuck by now. 

Inupi flinched a little as the corner of Rindou’s shoulder holster poked into his ribs and he skillfully found the buttons and ripped it loose. He could feel Rindou’s abs tense as he braced against his pull to allow the leather strap to come undone. The weapon sank to the floor with a heavy thud and hands found their way across those chiseled abs, leaving dark smears all across the fitted shirt. 

“I would step into the shower with my clothes on more often, had I known it would have this effect on you,” Rindou joked sarcastically. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Inupi groaned as Rindou trailed his slender hand down the inside of his thigh roughly. 

“Oh?” Rindou sang in a velvety voice. “I’ll shut you the fuck up,” he continued before savagely kissing him. Inupi wasn’t the only one getting more than steaming hot by this.

Inupi couldn’t deal with the sticky fabric that was so adamant to cling to his lovers body like it did. He did not have the mental clarity for this anymore. He only wanted one thing. Needed one thing. He ripped open the shirt as he gasped for air. Buttons clattered down and bounced away and he pushed himself up against the now bare but incredibly warm body under his hand. He was barely allowed to catch his breath as Rindou’s tongue already found it’s way back to his lips. And frankly; how could he back away from that?

Rindou groaned against Inupi’s lips. His hard-on was becoming uncomfortably tight in the sticky pantalon and he pushed himself off the wall, grabbing the sleeves that were tied around Inupi’s waist as he staggered back towards the couch. He allowed himself to fall backwards over the armrest and quickly pulled Inupi on top of him, squeezing his ass as he rolled his hips against his crotch. 

Inupi fell forward on his hands as he struggled to think straight. The feeling of their still contained boners rubbing against each other was as frustrating as it was delicious. “This couch-,” he gasped as Rindou ripped the knot out of the sleeves. “It won’t hold,” he managed in a strained voice as Rindou’s hand found his way into his overalls. “Fuck-,” he gasped. 

“Want me to stop?” Rindou taunted him with a satisfied smirk as he glared up at him, his hand firm around Inupi’s cock now. 

Inupi noticed his head becoming more hazy with every jerk. 

“Do you?” Rindou growled as he pushed his hips up but pulled his hand out of Inupi’s boxers.

Inupi’s eyes shot open as he looked down in utter shock as Rindou had let go of him. 

“Getting desperate, huh?” Rindou said as he folded his hands behind his head, shaking his soaking hair out of his face. 

Inupi’s eyes darted across Rindou’s body, frantically looking for ways to make him continue and then it struck him. He resolutely grabbed the edge of Rindou’s pants and got it open quicker than he’d thought he would in this state or hazy lust. He yanked the soaking fabric down. And for the second time he had to thank the rain as Rindou's boxers had already come off along with his tight pants because it was such a soaking mess. He buckled forward and without warning took Rindou’s penis in his hand and mouth. 

“Fucking hell-,” Rindou gasped, whipping his hands back out and grabbing Inupi’s hair with both hands. Not to pull him off, but to push him onto himself even firmer. He groaned unrestrained as Inupi’s tongue whirled around him and his grip intensified. He couldn’t help but rock his hips with every thrust. It took every ounce of restraint to not fuck him like he was taking him from behind. But he couldn’t bring himself to bruise Inupi’s handsome face. He glanced down and watched Inupi’s mouth move around him and he felt himself get even harder. The pressure was already building so high he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But he couldn’t look away even though he wished he could drag it out a little more. There was something so insanely hot about the desperation in Inupi’s eyes while they both were too fucking eager to take their time. “I want to see your face,” Rindou demanded, pulling Inupi’s hair to get him to break away from him. For just a moment Inupi’s grip on his cock weakened a little, but he was proud to feel how his baby grabbed onto him again almost instantly. He grabbed Inupi’s ass and scooted him closer so he could grab his still rock hard penis in his hand while simultaneously moving Inupi’s hand around his own up and down again. He groaned and rocked his hips against Inupi’s thighs and fist as he locked eyes with him. Inupi’s eyes had gone all dull with sheer lust and even though he seemed to try he couldn’t hold back his moans as he was jerked off with firm, long and well timed movements. “Squeeze me like you’ll never let go,” Rindou groaned as he could feel his orgasm boil in his groin. 

“Love,” Inupi gasped. 

But Rindou picked up his pacing mercilessly, feeling how Inupi’s cock tensed even further against his grip. “Give it to me, babe,” Rindou growled and he barely finished his sentence when he could feel the same thing happening with his own against the inside of Inupi’s fist. “Fuck,” he let out in a whistling moan. The mental clarity vanished and the space for snappy remarks obliterated. For a moment it was just clenching and jerking hands and thrusting hips accompanied by mutual moans of pleasure. He did his absolute best to drag it out as long as he could but he could feel Inupi struggle in his hands as his thighs twitched against him and he pushed his hips forward, causing the pressure on his own dick to increase even further as well. “Come on me,” Rindou moaned as he glanced up through half lidded eyes and as he sensually brushed his free hand up Inupi’s thigh and abs he bit his bottom lip as he felt how he had sent him over the edge, his sperm warm and sticky on his chest and hand. “Ride it,” Rindou demanded as he kept moving his hand around Inupi’s penis, feeling him shudder in the release. But he gasped and almost bolted upright as Inupi’s grip tightened around him and suddenly, Inupi’s green eyes turned clear again, his grip confident and resolute. No one had mastered moving with the slight curve in his dick as well as him. Knowing exactly when to squeeze and when to back off. 

“I’ll fucking ride you,” he growled out of breath and he flicked Rindou’s hand off him and scooted close against Rindou’s cock, rubbing it against his lower belly while increasing pace and pressure. He rocked his hips against Rindou’s and he raised his chin in defiance as he noticed how Rindou struggled to keep his face smug. “Give it to me, love,” he taunted as he rolled his balls against Rindou’s. And by the jerking in his hand and against his legs he knew very well the time was close. “Come on, fuck me, damnit,” Inupi growled as he cupped Rindou’s ass and pulled his hips up against him tight. 

Rindou closed his eyes and pushed his hips up against the inside of Inupi’s thighs as he felt the heat boil over. He let out a hearty moan, grabbing onto Inupi’s ass and pulling him onto him as he was milked for every last drop that was willing to spill out over his partner's hand. He clenched his teeth and gave Inupi’s fist one lasting hip thrust before allowing himself to sink back into the couch. 

Inupi pulled the cloth from his overalls pocket. It had surprisingly stayed put. And as he wiped his hands, his cock still hard, he looked down on Rindou, smugness returning to his face. “Devilishly seducing, I meant,” he joked with a grin, tucking his dick back into his boxers as he got off. And he handed Rindou the cloth to clean himself off at least a little. “There’s an overall for you to wear in my locker,” he gestured as he kicked aside some of the buttons he had ripped off, shaking his hair out of his face. 

[yanlei-a]

@deathfxnds have a smol thing because your art got me thinking about the tattoos... i love you cyn ♥️

It is an old rite, by now: a pledge, remade every time he seeks the dark power kept within the box. Within that simple object lies enlightening darkness, old secrets and terrible truths, made from the shadow of shadow, the magic in the world that had been deemed too dark.

But darkness is a natural state same as light, Zed had come to understand. The mantle of night is but one of myriad examples, the reason why the luminescence of celestial bodies shone so brightly. Proof of that single truth: balance requires two opposing forces to meet, equal in strength, lest there be no equilibrium at all. It became his mantle, his willingly carried burden. 

For the light to shine, it ought to cast a shadow.  

There is no bitter taste as the ichor is absorbed; its bitterness lies in the dark truths it reveals, a harsh view of the world that demands only the strong survive. Power has its uses, of course, a currency more necessary than riches. A lure, too, all its own (what couldn't one achieve, if only he wielded enough power?). The first time he claimed the shadows as his own, Zed had been forced to reckon with all it revealed on his own, piece together the truth worth clinging to and shunning the temptation insidiously poised alongside it. He was not called master out of any lofty sense of self-importance, nor any aggrandizing notions his defiance ought to earn him respect; that most important of titles had been earned by his own merit, as he had dominated the shadows rather than allowed them to dominate him. 

His younger acolytes are to be accompanied by the priestess, the keeper of the box, cryptic though her advice may be — but when he undertakes the ritual, it is alone, the room entirely his, no noise but the nigh imperceptible sound of his breathing. In the penumbra, he would stand before the object (accursed, some would say, though he disagrees; there are many dangers to the world, some of its own making, yet this is a corruption only the weak fall prey to, exposure of what already laid within), and he would pause ere reaching for it. A moment to brace himself, always taken, but significant nevertheless. Not hesitation (he had surrendered himself to the darkness long ago), but rather taking the time to meet his ambitions and his hatred, his anger and his guilt, and make his peace with the feelings he carries within his chest.  

Only then would calloused hands slide open the lid, allowing the shadows to pour from the box as if possessing a will of their own. In some form, Zed thinks, they do; all things do, in this part of the world, alive even when lacking sentience. Writhing darkness would fill the room, a greater amount than most would be capable of taking without losing themselves irrevocably. To him, they are intimately known, after years of careful study and excessive practice. He knows what is to come even before the flavorless shadows enter his mouth, the odd something and nothing of the sensation familiar. He knows soon enough it changes, expands, becomes that of limitless ambition as he sees the truth beneath everything, feels the power course through his body, allows the shadows to envelop his mind. 

He knows what is to come, of course — but Kayn does not.

Though the standard practice became leaving the acolytes under the care of Ysdra, he accompanies his pupil himself. Sentimental, Shi had condemned; you treat the boy as a son rather than a student, ready to hold his hand in the face of a test. Zed had sharply retorted he was merely interested in assessing his best student’s progress himself, since it was the first time he would truly make use of the Tears beyond meager droplets to be consumed. These would stain his skin, etch it in patterns as they saw fit. Many could not hold them, most not more than a small amount, and despite his unparalleled skill, Kayn was still young. If he wasn’t ready, the experience would take a heavy toll on him. And Zed was his master, was he not? A good mentor would not abandon his pupil at a crucial moment and leave him to handle the consequences. He was going to be a better master than the one he had, a quiet promise, sworn long ago; Kayn wouldn’t need to shoulder on his own any burden he wasn’t ready for.

Her criticism wasn’t new, nevertheless, and if it ever possessed any bite, it had long since lost it. Zed had taught him the base for every weapon he had mastered, the foundation of their principles, their purpose and their techniques; but so had he kept the child company in his sleepless nights, made sure he was properly fed, braided his hair when it grew too long. There had been walks through the wilderness, intent on making Kayn know the land and let Ionia know him in return, nights in festivals Zed would not have set foot in again if not for the boy, determined not to deny him anything. 

Wherever you were born, he said, the day Kayn had formally become his pupil, you belong to that place no longer. We are ionian. This land shall be your land, your home, your mother. Respect it, and it will respect you in turn. Embrace it, and She will love you as one of Her own.

Fatherhood and mentorship simply stood divided by a blurred line, he had always justified it. He taught Kayn for the Order, as his master, but he would not leave his pupil without support. Now it was no different. It is a crucial moment, and though Kayn bears himself well, Zed can see the hint of too much tension upon his shoulders, the uncertainty of not knowing deep beneath the defiant confidence of his amber eyes. He always did have more defiance than sense, the master thinks, expression softer as the shadow of a smile plays upon his lips. He can do this, though he poses the question nevertheless. “If you would rather wait and further prepare —”

“No!” The protest is as immediate as it is filled with fervor, interrupting him before the last chance to back down is truly offered. Kayn catches himself before continuing, apologetic in his words if not in the stubborn protest in his expression as he looks up to meet his master’s gaze. “I’m sorry, master — but I can do it. I’m ready. I won’t fail you.”

No trepidation remains in his eyes, Zed notices, accepting his pledge with a stoic nod. “Stay calm,” A lesson repeated, learned from his own master. “But if you cannot do that, run toward your fear.”

“You have to be certain if you are to be precise. This power is dangerous, Kayn, as all power is. But without strength, we cannot protect that which needs protection, and without ambition we are rendered incapable of reaching for the strength we seek. Master it, and you will have an array of weapons at your disposal that can do far more than steel.” Crimson eyes turn away from the boy to approach the box, placed on a small stone altar. He stands on the opposite side, hands upon the lid, though not yet opening it. 

Kayn’s gaze follows his hands, examining the box with no small amount of curiosity, standing as if eager to open it himself rather than wait a moment longer. Wait he does, nevertheless; patience, too, is an important lesson, one every assassin had to learn to make use of the best opportunities. Their trade was not gruesome slaughter; they struck where they ought to, fatal in their precision, saving the many with the deaths of the few. An old lesson, one he is certain his student has not forgotten. What taste for blood the boy possessed, it had never been directed to purposeless killing. His dedication is without equal, his skill bound to surpass Zed’s own; a worthy successor, one day, if he successfully made use of the shadows. 

That he needs not to know, for now. It wouldn’t do to add more pressure to an already difficult trial.

“But remember, my student, that no power comes without a price, the most dangerous of all to be found within yourself,” He continues, piercing gaze not softening as he looks at Kayn. The time for gentleness, albeit subtle, has passed. The darkness will not offer him sympathy, after all. “Do not be greedy for more than you can pay. Remember strength is to serve your purpose, not for you to become a slave to seeking ever more of it. Know the shadows will show you many things, terrible and wonderful and true — there is enlightenment to be found in them, if you are wise enough to see it, and utter doom if you are not.”

Rather than another long pause, Zed continues immediately; sowing doubt in the boy’s heart is not his intent. His hands leave the box, falling to his sides, before one moves to grip Kayn’s shoulder. “I know you are ready, Kayn. There is nothing to fear.” Retracting his hand, Zed crosses his arms. “Go on. Gaze into the shadow, and make it part of you.”

A nod in agreement, and the younger reaches for the object, no hesitation before he opens it. Immediately, the Tears writhe and pour from the box, darkening the room. Kayn opens himself to them, recites the words as he had been taught, and a portion of the shadows flow towards him, eliciting a surprised gasp as they are ingested and the surge of power travels through his body. Half a second later, it truly hits him, the truth the shadows keep: with enough strength, one can not only survive but shape the world around him — strength now within his reach, every muscle made more resilient, his body faster and more powerful. Never again would he need to be powerless, a certainty felt more than thought, even as marvel mixes with dread and the mystical forces prod at his uncertainties, fan the flames of his rage, make him incandescent with turmoil. Darkness dances across his mind to an unsung melody of everything there was and is and will be; he cannot understand everything, but this is having the universe at his fingertips, he knows, and if he can control this, then he can control anything. Greatness lies on the horizon, should he be bold enough to claim it. 

Impetuousness demands Kayn claim it now. He wants to, and he wants to devour the darkness and dominate it as he had every weapon, one more tool in his arsenal; but his successes had not been built on foolishness, reckless though he may be on occasion. You do not sacrifice a finger in your eagerness to master the sword; neither do you surrender yourself to the power you seek to claim. 

Soon enough the inebriated state of trance begins to fade, alongside the terrifying power he would scarcely be able to control. It is still there, Kayn notices, except less… raw. Not muted, but more somber, a well to tap into rather than an ocean to drown in. He feels the light, cold brush of the swirling patterns forming from inside. Dark ink-like matter etches itself from the base of his thumb, circling his wrist. It is a relatively thin pattern, not going much beyond that. Insignificant compared to his master — but more than many veterans of the Order successfully claimed so far, he notes, with an inevitable sense of pride. There would be more, eventually, he is certain. One day, he would yet be Master Zed’s equal.

Crimson eyes remain watchful as it all unfolds, expression neutral. It belies what is in his heart, momentarily fearing the boy would go too far, incapable of starting slow. Kayn proves him wrong and his worries unfounded, nevertheless, exerting his will when it’s time to stop. The master of the yánléi watches as the tattoo forms, dread replaced by pride. Not for a moment did he sincerely doubt the boy’s capacity, but this was no meaningless feat. 

“How are you feeling?” The question seems to almost startle Kayn, as if only upon hearing his master’s voice he recalled he did not have the room to himself. Wide-eyed surprise does not last, and glances at his right arm again, turning it briefly to examine the pattern. 

“Strong,” Kayn replies, no mention made of inner conflict or revelations found amidst his trance. Zed does not pry; it is not his right to know if his pupil does not wish to share, not this time. “You know, I always wondered if you chose the patterns yourself.”

The commentary catches the master off guard, casual as if he spoke of clothing rather than the damning power behind the rift between their order and the Kinkou. A brow raised in question, the disbelief is not entirely kept from his tone. “You expected me to have come up with the way the tattoos are arranged?”

“It wasn’t impossible that was the case,” The boy argues, even as the last of the ichor withdraws back to the box that keeps it, Kayn closing it right after. “Doesn’t it sound more absurd the shadows simply chose a certain pattern?”

“Not when you know they are part of Ionia’s natural magic as much as the magic we witness freely shaping the land,” As serious as he meant for the reply to sound, Zed doubts it truly comes across as that. If anything seems absurd it is that this is Kayn’s chosen topic; he can’t help but wonder what lies concealed beneath the collected demeanor his pupil exhibits. It will be days before he truly settles, no longer feeling the need to keep a watchful eye, to ensure Kayn is truly fine, even if the younger refuses to say it. Yet there is one small thing he can do, to acknowledge his student’s effort, to praise his success (to ensure he knows no matter what comes, he will not have to face it alone, never again to be left behind or discarded as if merely a tool). 

Mentorship and fatherhood share a blurred line; yet neither as master nor as mentor would he ever look at the boy as mere weapon when he is so much more. “You did well today,” Sincere and open, as he always strives to be towards the boy, regardless of how challenging that can be. “I am proud of you, Kayn.”

[impossible-rat-babies]

freaking like. eshka is getting into gender stuff that’s like. hmmmm this is really uhhhh Close and Personal huh

[userkoo]

in other news, i think i've finally!!!! planned out and fully decided on my first tattoo and will be scheduling her shortly

[hurlingdown]

        # BEASTFEAST ! — RYŌMEN SUKUNA.

synopsis. in another life, they only knew you as his guard dog. in this one, he's yours to own. or, alternatively: sukuna misses his mate so much that it begins to physically affect his vessel's body. they set off on a little mission in search of you, only to find themselves walking riiight into your waiting jaws. wc. 4.2k

tags. dom beast! reader, bottom! sukuna. reader has a cock. oviposition (eggs), size difference, large cock, i'm not joking around that thing is fucking ginormous, belly bulge, monsterfucking, cum inflation, breeding kink, mpreg, knotting, biting, rough anal sex, warning: sukuna's huge tits, appropriate amount of clothes-ripping, multiple orgasms, creampie, sukuna's hole leaks slick, soft & needy sukuna.

a/n. inspired by this ask. thank you for the wonderful thirst <3

Sukuna was a predator. He did not fear, did not run from measly little things like monsters, because hardly anything could be more terrifying than he was. 

But for the first time in his life, he felt like he was prey. 

Hulking, sharp teeth bared, and with four piercing slit-like eyes, you rose to your full height, a low growl sounding at the back of your throat. Primal hunger radiated from your entire being as you stalked closer and closer, horns lowered in a position ready to strike, your tail whipping the jagged ends of the cave, sending little sparks alive. 

“S-Sukuna, I think we should leave...” Yuuji stammered, starting to back out, but his cheek split open at once and a mouth appeared, snarling out a command to stay. 

“Let me take over,” Sukuna muttered. “I will handle this, brat.” 

Yuuji looked hesitant about giving up control on his body. Still, there were little options to pick and choose from at the moment, and the beast, you, was approaching them with haste. Each heavy step you took announced your presence, causing the ground to quake, crushed rock particles raining down like fine powder. 

Your eyes narrowed in onto the human at the mouth of the cave, no larger than one-fifth of your size, nor taller. Something coursed through you, sharp and warm and instantaneous, like static electricity. 

Familiarity. 

You came to a halt in front of him as tribal tattoos materialised on his skin, stretching across the expanse of his handsome face and dipping into his clothed chest. Two dark bands wrapped themselves around each of his wrists, and you watched intensely as he raised one (not six)—slowly, as to not threaten you, fist unfurling into a gentle hand to press against the side of your muzzle. 

Dark red eyes stared up at you with a bored expression. 

“Silly dog,” Sukuna cooed, fond. 

All of this was familiar territory, and you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck. He was looking at you like he knew what you wanted, too. 

“Sukuna,” you growled, nuzzling into his hand, and he shuddered. 

Closing his eyes, he curled a palm around one of your horns, bringing you down to press his forehead against yours, wanting to be close. You obliged easily, feeling his warm breath against yours, his touch surrounding you. The thrumming of his very much human heart against your lesser human one. You supposed it was a kind of feeling that no other living being could fathom. It wasn’t love, gods, no. It was something much more than that. 

It was something that only the two of you shared. 

“I made you wait,” Sukuna breathed, stroking the side of your face, and you snorted out an agreement. 

He had made you wait for centuries. Centuries of spending night and day in a cold wet cave, alone. You used to spend weeks lying awake at a time, waiting, hoping he would come back, sharp instincts perking up at every slight noise coming from outside the cave, only for it to be a bird or a stupid human traveller. You had hoped so desperately before that hope died with your will to live, and if not for your curse of immortality, you would have ended it all. You hadn’t even bothered to make a proper nest, for all these years. It didn’t matter if your mate wasn’t there to appreciate it. 

He had left you empty of meaning. 

“... I don’t suppose you will want me to apologise for that.” 

You stayed quiet. You weren’t looking for an apology. But that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with him. 

“Words?” he said patiently, looking at you. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“Nest,” you told him, and he watched helplessly as you shrugged his grip off and stalked past him, out of the cave and into the bright sunlight, for the first time in ages. 

You gathered nesting materials as swiftly as you could, taking whatever you could find in the forest—dried-up twigs, leaves, bark strips, bird feathers, all the sort. They didn’t have the softest texture, but they would do for now. 

You returned to a sweet, heady scent seeping out from inside the cave, each whiff sending delicious quivers down your spine. It was the kind of aphrodisiac that omegas in the wild would release if they wanted to attract an alpha, but these things did not matter to you much. Mate, your mind supplied. Breed. You shook it off as your body not being attuned to the unbearable warmth of the outside world. It was getting all your instincts mixed up. 

Inside the cave, Sukuna was sitting on your poorly-made nest like it was a grand throne, thighs spread and arms hung out, exposing his most vulnerable parts—his neck, heart and belly—to you in such a casual manner that it set fuel to the burgeoning fire you had been trying to ignore in your abdomen.

He gave you a lazy look as you noticed, a smirk beginning to stretch across his face. 

“You are back.” 

You felt your fangs itch. 

“I was going to rip these off,” Sukuna continued when you made no reply, pinching his clothes with a look of near disgust. “But I figured you would want to do it yourself…?” 

You growled. You had been suppressing the urge to rip off all his clothes since the moment he emerged in front of you in those markings that you had recognised as yours, and somehow, he knew it. 

“Sukuna,” you said. There was nothing else to say. You could feel yourself trembling with desire. Even he wouldn’t be able to take it, not in this weak form, no. “I need… to fix the nest.” The words came out flimsy and weak. An excuse.

“Take me,” he rasped out, as though reading your mind. He gestured to his stomach. “Forget the nest. I want you inside me. Right here.” 

He watched you, a hint of desperation behind his stern gaze. You looked away. 

“I am angry at you,” you confessed, the real reason for why you were so hesitant. It came out in a growl, and Sukuna shivered, baring his neck with a low whine. 

“I can tell,” he murmured, breathless. “Take it out on me.” 

It was tempting, really, having your mate spread out in front of you in your territory, willing and pliant, with only a thin, negligible barrier between you and what was yours. No, what used to be yours. You glared at his unblemished neck, now empty of a mating bite. It didn’t feel right, and the growing heat within you was telling you to either bite or break something. 

“No.” 

Sukuna cocked an eyebrow. “No?” 

Trying your best to ignore him, you lumbered over, starting to rearrange the nest into something more presentable. As you got closer, the sweet scent intensified, like a field of blooming red roses, each one making you dizzy with desire. Mate, your instincts were telling you. Make him round and heavy with our offspring. Keep him here forever. Who knows where he’ll walk off to the next time we lose sight of him. 

You could feel your cock sliding out from its sheath, steadily hardening as you pretended not to know where the smell was coming from. 

Sukuna eyed you coyly as you moved closer to stuff a few feathers behind him, arching his back subtly as he settled into a more comfortable position, one that exposed the wet patch between his legs. He pulled down the mouth of his shirt to show his right pectoral, the thick black lines enticing you to trace them with your tongue. 

Your cock swung heavily with every slight movement, and you could feel his hungry stare on it. 

He opened his mouth. You stopped and stared back at him, daring him to speak. He sneered. “Your dick clearly disagrees—” 

Sukuna yelped as you ripped his shirt open with your claws in one smooth movement, fully exposing his plump chest. 

“Beautiful,” you growled in appreciation, flinging the shredded shirt away, and he panted out a victorious laugh, eagerly pushing out his tits for you to examine. 

“Fucking finally.” He moaned unabashedly as you groped his pecs, careful not to graze him with your claws, but just as rough nonetheless—just the way he liked it. “Knew you would give in, haah.” 

“Sukuna,” you warned, baring your teeth, but he only arched his neck in response, trying to get you to bite already. 

“Put it in,” he whined. “Want your prick in me.” 

You ripped his pants off next. 

Your gaze raked down his body—this new, unfamiliar body of his that you should despise, because it was so human, so unlike him—but instead of feeling revulsion, you could only taste hunger. Saliva rapidly gathered in your mouth, threatening to spill out from the gaps of your sharp teeth. 

If he belonged to you, then every form and body that he chooses to possess would belong to you, too. And naturally, this one did. 

“Here,” Sukuna panted, reaching a hand between his legs to scissor his hole open for you. Viscous, syrupy slick dripped out, dousing your nest with his sweet smell, and all of this only served to drive you crazy with want. “Fuck me, ruin me, come on—” 

The universe unravelled before you the moment you grabbed him by the hips and seated him on your cock in one violent thrust, and you groaned out loud and guttural, heavens and the earth be damned. You could have never forgotten how it felt, not since then, and never now, a sweltering, almost electrical connection burning through your bodies and sealing them together as one, like you were made to fit inside him, like he was made to be yours. 

Sukuna was letting out a string of broken whimpers, face contorted in absolute bliss and pleasure as his rim stretched impossibly wide around your thick girth, his stomach bulging out to allow such a large intrusion. You yanked him further down the shaft of your cock, and he cried out, body convulsing as came—cock messily spurting on his chest. 

“Shit,” he cursed, trembling as you began to move again. “F-forgot how big this thing is.” 

You snarled. Guess you would just have to imprint your dick inside him to make sure he would never forget again. 

You manoeuvred your grip to the back of his knees, supporting him in a secure hold, spreading his thighs wider so you could slide in deeper with his back pressed against your chest. You wanted to feel every inch of him, wanted him to sheath you, wanted to carve a space inside him that only you could ever breach. Sukuna howled out a profanity, throwing his head back to rest on your shoulder as pleasure overwhelmed him in waves. 

He reached back to grab at your shoulders, horns, anything, struggling to push himself into a better position as you started to slowly thrust into him. Vulnerable was the first word that came to you. The second one was fragile, but that wasn’t the word for it, either. He was so little now—you could fit one hand completely around his waist, and you should be more gentle with him, really, but you knew he could take more. 

“Look,” you said, peeking over his shoulder. Sukuna looked up at you, teary and confused, but before you could clarify, you reached a clawed hand to press against the obscene bulge on his navel, and his eyes rolled back with a loud, shuddering cry as he jerked in your arms, pressure immediately increasing tenfold. 

“F-fuck,” he sobbed. You could feel the slick gushing out from around you and dripping down your thighs as he stared down for the first time, throat dry and unbreathing. “It’s too fuckin’ big.” 

You applied more pressure, just to be cruel, watching as he choked on a moan, thighs quivering uncontrollably. He stared back up at you, as though searching for a reason for that, and couldn’t resist looking down again, at the huge swell over his stomach and abdomen—the print of your cock marking him as yours. He slowly pressed his hands over your larger ones, whimpering as he felt just how deeply you were buried inside him. 

“It is not that big,” you sneered. “You are just small now.”

Sukuna scowled at your taunting words, shivering as you gently stroked his stomach. “Brat. That does not- ah- does not mean I cannot take you.” 

You bared your teeth, trying for something similar to a smile. “I know.” 

You knew that more than anyone. He was the strongest creature you had ever known, and would ever know. The only one you would ever bow down to, the only one you would serve and recognise as king.

You lapped up his tears, and Sukuna leaned heavily into your touch, like he had been starving for it. 

He was starting to roll his hips impatiently, forcing the head of your cock to rub against his walls, lustful whimpers slipping out as he watched you move inside him. “I guess it has been a long time,” he heaved, trying to catch his breath as he worked himself up and down your shaft the best he could. “I am gonna—cum. Again. Hold me.” 

It wasn’t an order as much as it was a plea.

You lifted his thigh high up to your chest, your other arm wrapping protectively around his waist as you violently slammed up into his tight hole, stuffing him full as he screamed. Strips of white painted his chest as he came all over himself, and you hooked your jaw over his shoulder to dutifully lick them up. 

It took him less than a minute to recover, hips jerking in your grip and whimpering pitifully to get your attention.  

“Fuck me,” he sobbed, way too sensitive as you started to move him up and down your cock again, canines grazing his neck. “Fuck me harder.” 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t letting you do this only because he wanted you to let you take out your anger on him. He needed it himself, craved it, even—the violence, the overstimulation, the release. Centuries of not having you beside him. Centuries of being sealed up in a dark, empty space without the comfort of your warmth, the solace in your touch. He needed it now, more than ever, and you needed it too.  

Ignoring his protests, you pulled him off your cock, setting him gently onto the nest on his hands and knees. Yanking his hips up, you forcefully pushed your shaft into him again, shoving him down by the neck when he tried to see what you were doing. He only moaned at the rough treatment, arching his back for you. 

“Let me,” you told him, gently. “Let me take care of you.” 

Sukuna panted, his two left eyes watching you with a strange reverence that only revealed itself when the two of you were alone and being intimate. It wasn’t exactly a promise to behave, but it was enough for you to start again. 

Your tail curled around his thigh possessively, guiding it to spread wider as you rammed your hips against his repeatedly with heavy thrusts, the wet slaps deafeningly loud as they echoed through the cave. Sukuna had stopped trying to fuck himself on your cock, instead laying there and allowing you to position him as you wished, moaning lewdly every time the tapered tip of your cock forced itself against his sweet spot. He was squeezing deliciously around you with every thrust, his insides squelching as slick coated the entirety of your shaft, easing the stretch and glide. 

“Gorgeous,” you growled, entranced by the way his hole greedily swallowed up your length, and he whined brokenly at the praise, trembling hands reaching back to spread himself open for you. You groaned out at the sight, driving yourself deep in before pulling out until only the tip stayed inside, and slamming back in again to drink in his pleasured cries. Somewhere in the middle of that he had cum again, spilling heavily into the nest as his knees gave out, legs shaking with overstimulation. 

“So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna whimpered, no longer himself in the haze of his third orgasm—face smushed against the nest as he drooled. “Missed this—missed you so much, ah—” 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the edges of your vision blurring as you snapped your teeth together, focused on getting him off as much as possible first. Something strange and heavy was churning deep within you, being slowly dragged out from your depths and solidifying at the base of your cock—a feeling you hadn’t felt for a long time, you almost forgot what it meant. 

You didn’t even know if it was possible to impregnate him in this form. 

“Fill me up,” he sobbed out, cockdrunk already. The stutter of your hips had given it away—it didn’t matter if it had been centuries—his body could recognise it coming from a mile, like he was conditioned to be bred by you. “Want your eggs.” 

You let out a hungry, animalistic whine at his words, claws digging into his hips and thighs as you towered over him in a proper mounting position, pounding harder and making guttural sounds of pleasure and want as you blindly chased your release. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned wantonly, exposing his throat in a clear sign of submission, showing you that he wanted this, wanted you to stuff him full until he was bulging with your offspring. 

“S-Sukuna,” you managed, wanting to bite, wanting to mark him, cock slamming directly into his sweet spot with reckless abandon, as though wanting to mark his insides as yours too. You could feel a knot bloating at the base of your shaft, heavy and swollen with solid weight, an unbearable pressure pushing and growing insistently somewhere down there, slowly travelling towards the rim of your cockhead. It was too much, too good, and you wanted to push deeper, deeper, make him feel it all the way to his throat. 

“Knock me up already!” he wailed, pushing his ass back against you desperately as if that would speed things up. “P-Please. You know I want it. Been waiting for so long. I want it, please, please—” 

He was begging so much that it was driving your instincts into overdrive, sight blurring, breath coming out in rapid, hot pants—he had rarely, rarely ever acted like this even before the two of you were separated—tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried his heart out for you to permanently mark his body as your own, distraught and broken like the only thing that could fix him was you. 

It tore your soul apart to see your mate like this. 

You fought to concentrate, but an invisible force was prying your jaws open, trying to get you to bite, clamp down on his neck and shoulder, taste his blood and drink in it. 

“Bite,” you wheezed out with difficulty as your hips continued to pound into him of their own accord, and you tried your hardest to tell him that you were going to lose it any time. “Please—can—I?” 

“Yes, you fucking fool,” Sukuna choked on a sob as you brutally shoved your knot into him, stuffing him full until he felt like he was bursting. “Mark me up, show me that I belong to you—” 

And you did, jaws latching onto flesh and skin as your teeth punctured the juncture between his neck and shoulder, fangs sinking in deep, snarling, shaking, a burning heat exploding at your core as your vision whited out, emptying everything into him—ecstasy consuming your very existence. 

When you came to be, he was whimpering weakly.

You could feel the cum steadily trickling out of his hole and down the back of his thighs—you had come so much that even the thick knot couldn’t keep everything inside—but you didn’t think that was the reason. 

You could feel a heavy pressure present from your crotch to the gaping rim of your cockhead, pain and pleasuring splitting you apart, and you let out a wounded noise as you pushed the first egg into the body of your mate. 

“S-shit,” Sukuna croaked out, thighs trembling as the egg settled into him, straining at the sudden heavy weight in his stomach. “H-how many are there?” 

“There are two,” you hissed out, and his eyes widened. “Two more.” 

He let out a pained whine, eyes fluttering close as he waited for the next, and the next. “Brat,” he managed. “I might not be able to stay awake.” 

You pulled back the best you could, manhandling him gently so that you could rest him on his side, knot still lodged inside him. “It is okay,” you told him, softly. “I will take care of you.” 

Sukuna couldn’t remember, for the life of it, the last time that he had felt so heavy. 

He blinked his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of his swollen stomach, now stuffed with three whole eggs, and at least a gallon of your cum. He sighed with contentment, wriggling to settle comfortably into the warmth of the nest, hands settling on his stomach. 

Yuuji was going to try and kill him, no doubt. Not that his vessel would ever come close to succeeding. He found himself grinning evilly at that. 

Sukuna was about to fall asleep again, before he noticed a lack of body heat behind him.

He was breathing in your scent as the entire cave was drenched in it that he hadn't realised immediately, but you were nowhere in sight. A hollow feeling swept over him in waves at the thought of being used and abandoned, and he bit back a whimper. Stupid, useless instincts. He hated how weak you made him.

“Brat,” he called, softly, too tired to sit up. “You are here?” 

You grunted. 

You had been sitting at the far edge of the nest for the past hour, gaze locked onto the entrance of the cave, guarding your now pregnant mate from any foolish intruders. That was… one of the two reasons. The other reason was to guard him from yourself. 

Sukuna called for you again, and you could not resist stealing a glance.

The sight before you was making you light-headed with desire that you could not afford to have, not right now. You stared down at him just as he looked up at you, swollen and bulging with your offspring, mindlessly stroking his huge stomach with cum still trickling down his ass and thighs. 

Fuck. You were so hungry. You would always be hungry for him.

Sukuna’s face split into an arrogant smirk. “Why, after all that, and you still want more.” 

“Do not,” you warned lowly, trying your best to look away, even as he shamelessly spread his legs, showing you the mess you had made between his thighs. “Sukuna. Not now.” 

“Why not?” he leered, taking pleasure in your distress. “Scared you will break me?” 

You growled. “Yes.” 

“Weak,” he taunted. “I do not remember picking a weak fool as my mate.” 

“I am not weak.” You bared your teeth at him, and he simply laughed at you. 

“So easy to rile up,” he hummed. “Come here.” 

“... No.” 

He looked even more amused. “Come over, brat. I will not do anything vile.” 

“So you know you are vile,” you said, and despite your words, begrudgingly strut over and buried your face into his neck, ignoring the dull heat persisting in your lower abdomen. 

Sukuna sighed as you lapped affectionately at the fresh mating bite, closing his eyes and basking in the heat of your body. “I never- ah- denied it in the first place.” 

You pulled back to glower at him, clawed hands settling back on his hips where they belonged—now carrying the weight of your offspring. He reached up to cradle your face now that you were steadying him, unfazed by your glare. 

“And you still love this vile creature?” he murmured, gazing at you with an expression no less than tender.

“Love,” you repeated, like it would make sense if you said it a second time. You felt more for him than just love. If love only made your skin feel warm and your heart beat fast, like the mortals have told, then this feeling was something much, much more than love. 

Sukuna merely grinned, and you knew he felt the same. 

kinktober masterlist! masterlist!

[midnightorchids]

i am frothing at the mouth at firefighter!Jason🤤

I’ m imagining Jason accidentally bumping into reader who so happens to be a school teacher and he can’t help but flirt just a little bit whilst the class of kids he’s educating on fire safety look at them both with wide eyes😃

I absolutely love this idea so much! I wrote something based off of this ask and low key went a little overboard with world building, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Field trip mornings always created an exciting buzz amongst your students. Their gentle chatter filled the chilly parking lot of the old school and you giggled at their enthusiasm.

The moment brought a sense of nostalgia, it engulfed your heart in a warm embrace. It reminded you of your days in elementary school. The memories of bitter autumn mornings and your teacher’s frustrated attitudes played before your eyes. You smiled thinking about your past and how those small experiences inspired you to pursue a teaching career.

This field trip was a special one as it happened to fall on Halloween Day. The children complained about having to come to school on the holiday, but as soon as you mentioned that they could come costumed, the excitement was back. Your third grade class did not disappoint, they were all dressed in bright costumes for their first ever visit to the fire station.

The bus ride was fairly normal. The children were a mix of both calm and rowdy. You intervened every once in a while when their noise level got too loud, otherwise the students were well behaved.

Entering the fire station was like entering a dream. The foyer of the building was warm and inviting. The heat radiated off of the walls and it made you slip off your coat. There were Halloween decorations coating the pale walls and you watched your children ooh and ahh with excitement.

Your eyes were still scanning the room when a tall man walked over towards you. He wore his uniform around his waist with a black compression shirt that hugged his body. You could see a sleeve of tattoos on display and a thin silver chain peaking through from under his shirt. Despite not wearing your coat anymore, you still felt your body heat up.

You stared at his name tag—Jason, it read. You recalled the name from the numerous emails and phone calls you had exchanged in order to make this tour happen. You always thought his voice was sweet, but you had never imagined him looking like this.

He was attractive—breathtakingly so. His eyes radiated a bright shade of emerald and were full of life. He had heavy bags under his eyes, which, you assumed, were from working long hours at the station. His facial features were sharp. His cheekbones stood high and his hooked nose sat perfectly poised on his face. He looked like a Roman sculpture. Your eyes trailed down to his lips and you noticed a small scar on the right side of his mouth. You felt your fingers twitch, almost as if they were itching to trace the mark.

Jason cleared his throat, pulling you out of your deep trance and you felt goosebumps trailing your skin. You quickly spoke up, trying to ease the tension.

“Hello, my apologies, I completely zoned out, it’s been a long morning,” you said, desperately hoping that he believed the poor excuse you made to justify openly checking out the man.

You suddenly felt even more uncomfortable, you looked to your side only to notice all of your students staring right at you. You felt yourself getting flustered again, but quickly moved past the feeling. You extended your hand to shake Jason’s calloused ones. His eyes raked your figure and he gave you a sly smile.

“It’s okay,” he responded gently. “Shall we get started with the visit,” he changed the subject quickly and you couldn’t be happier.

Jason turned his attention towards the children and greeted them with an enthusiastic expression, his passion for his job clearly reflected in his way of speaking.

He led your tiny class towards the breakout rooms of the fire station. On the way to the rooms, Jason pointed out one of the girl’s Wonder Woman costumes and he shrieked in an endearing sort of way. He kneeled to the girl’s height and handed her a small sticker. She smiled, thanking him. Jason then locked his eyes with yours and called the girl pretty, and you knew at that moment that the comment was not only for her, but for you too. You felt a rush of heat run through your cheeks and up to your ears.

The breakout rooms were similar to the foyer of the fire station. There were little skeletons propped up against the whiteboards and small jack-o-lanterns on each desk.

Once the children had settled, Jason handed the rest of them with fun stickers and pamphlets about fire safety for them to take home. He joked with the kids, and managed to sneak in a fire pun every now and then. He was a good listener, he paid attention to everything the children had to share. You turned your head to the side and silently admired his ability to work with the kids; not everyone could handle a group of eight-year-olds first thing in the morning.

Jason quickly gave the class a presentation about the dangers of fires and the importance of protecting yourselves when dealing with hot objects. It was odd, he wasn’t even trying to hide his flirtatious comments, he’d stare right at you upon the very mention of the word “hot.”

You noticed Jason had a habit of walking around the room, maybe it was to keep the students engaged or maybe he did it for his own reasons. But it had got to the point where he’d brush past you, almost purposefully. The parts of your skin that made contact with his body were on fire.

After the presentation, Jason decided it would be best if the kids got a quick break before continuing the tour of the fire station. You happily agreed, needing a break yourself.

You sat on a chair close to the exit, when one of your students came to you on the verge of tears—the culprit being a paper cut. You cooed at the child, gently cupping their much smaller hand and guiding them to your first aid kit. Unknown to you, Jason was watching the interaction play out.

He hadn’t known you long, but he thought you were stunning. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the way your features sat against your skin, and the way you spoke with such eloquence. It was everything he found attractive, but seeing you showcase such patience with the “wounded” child, made his heart race. Not only were you beautiful, but you were kind—to Jason, in the very little time he had known you, you felt like an angel.

“Do you like them,” a small voice suddenly spoke. It was the Wonder Woman from earlier and Jason smiled.

“Ah the lovely Wonder Woman is back,” he replied, ignoring the child’s question. The little girl giggled.

“I think you have a crush on my teacher,” Jason raised his eyebrow. What did this little girl know about crushes? The child laughed again and said, “I think she might like you back.”

“What makes you say that,” Jason inquired, now suddenly interested. The little girl shrugged and made a face.

“I dunno,” and with that, she ran off, leaving Jason confused.

After the break, Jason guided the students to the main hall to show them the fire trucks. The energy was high in the room, the kids were beaming with excitement. The tension between you and Jason only seemed to rise though. With every passing flirtatious comment and every lingering look, you felt yourself getting more anxious. How inappropriate would it be if you asked for his number at the end of the field trip… you caught yourself thinking.

It was as if Jason had read your mind because at the end of the tour, he pulled you aside to thank you for bringing in the children and letting him have the opportunity to teach them. You grinned and also expressed your gratitude. You began to walk towards the students, when Jason grabbed your wrist and held onto you gently. He slipped a piece of paper into your palm and sent you a quick wink before heading out.

You stared at the small paper and slowly opened it.

Inside, the words read in messy lines, “call me,” with a string of numbers. You looked into the direction that Jason left, and smiled to yourself.

You were definitely going to call him.

[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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[yeyinde]

preacher's daughter (Ethel Cain inspired) and biker Ghost would go so hard. all that corruption, religious trauma/catholic guilt, and small town gothic misery, you know?

sheltered daughter meets violence personified. the devil and the sacrificial lamb. you meet him when you wander up to the motorcycle club on the outskirts of town with a pamphlet about salvation clutched in your trembling hands. he leans his big, intimidating frame against the door jamb, and with his arms crossed over his broad chest, says must be good on your knees, aren't you, birdie?

(you answer with an earnest yes, sir, i worship on my knees everyday and pretend the heat that flares in your belly when he groans is from the too-hot sun; the first of many sins.)

later that evening, your daddy tells you that he's an honest and good man, but sometimes he prays that God strikes that vile place right down. you bite your tongue and nod, but sneak out at night and meet him there where you slip into silk lingerie and dance on stage just for him. he tells every man there that if he catches them staring at you, he'll stab them in the eyes, and you think it's the most romantic thing you'd ever heard.

it's love letters carved into the sunbleached bones of a half-submerged deer left to rot in the stagnant bog just outside of the abandoned white chapel. something watches you from the dark stained glass windows as he runs his tattooed fingers over your skin, leaving smears of gunpowder and soot.

(someone set the old man's car on fire—the who leered at you while you stood in the choir, wearing your lily white dress and sang glory be while you tried to forget what those tattooed hands felt like when they slipped under your skirt and between your thighs.

the old man was still inside—)

they call him a ghost. a demon. you call him Simon and daydream during bible study that you'll run away together. hop on the back of his old Harley and forget this place ever existed.

a daydream that quickly turns into a nightmare when your sordid relationship comes to light, and your daddy threatens to have him locked away for good. there's a gun in the safe upstairs. you think about the time Simon dragged you into the woods to shoot at cans and lose your faith under the sweltering sun when you pull the trigger.

"for us," you tell him, breathing in the dank church air ripe with sin and the stench of blood. "i did it for us."

it's leaning on the back of his Harley with your fingers threaded around his thick waist as the town grows smaller and smaller in the distance. staring up at the endless blue sky and grinning wide because you finally got your monster of a man wrapped around your finger.

(and all it took was a little deal made with the thing that lives in the abandoned church.)

[pitchsidestories]

cat lovers II Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1565

a/n: hi readers, the oneshot is inspired by this request, enjoy. 🤍🖤

You and your cat Boo were inseparable.

You had gotten her when she was still a kitten and you had just moved into your own apartment in Barcelona.

You named her Boo because she liked to follow you around like a small ghost, leaving her white fur on all your clothes. She was a curious little thing with blue eyes whose favourite spot was the backrest of your sofa. You learned quickly that just like you, she had a mind of her own and liked to wander around. So far she had always found her way back home.

Only this time, she had been gone for longer than usual. Worry turned into panic as the evening threatened to approach and there was still no sign of her.

Unsure about what to do, you decided to ask your neighbours if anyone had seen her around.

You knocked on doors and rang doorbells but to no avail.

On the third floor of your apartment building, a young woman with a neck tattoo and a septum piercing opened the door. Her hand were buried in the pockets of her sweatpants.

She looked only threatening for the first few seconds. Then her eyes widened in surprise and she greeted you politely: “Hola?”

“Hi, I’m uhm… looking for my cat. The neighbours said you might have an idea where she is.“, you explained, way too fast and filled with nervousness.

The woman narrowed her eyes as if in thought: “Uh… is your cat all white by any chance?”

Your heart started to race in your chest, filling with hope. You nodded quickly: “Yes, she is!”

“Well, then I know exactly where she is. Come on in.“, she smiled and took a step to the side to let you in.

“Okay.“

You followed her through her surprisingly clean and tastefully decorated apartment. You immediately felt a little self-conscious thinking about the pile of laundry sitting in your bedroom.

The woman stopped in front of a plushy cat bed in the corner of her living room. Boo was cuddled up against a jet black cat, purring quietly.

“She’s here, cozying up with Bagheera.“

You could feel a smile forming on your face as you watched the two cats, the previous stress slowly shrinking into nothingness.

“Oh my god. There you are!” You kneeled down to pet Boos head.

“Yeah, you need to be careful… the streets around here aren’t very safe but your cat is always welcome at my place.“, the woman said from behind you.

You said nothing and slowly got up again.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. What’s your and her name?”, she suddenly added.

You froze. You had totally forgotten to introduce yourself a few minutes ago. How embarrassing.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n and this is Boo.“, you replied, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Beautiful. Do you want a cup of coffee?”, the woman who introduced herself as Mapi offered.

You politely shook your head: “No, don’t trouble yourself. I will just get her and leave again.“

“Alright.”, she nodded.

“But thank you. And thank you for taking care of her.”, you smiled gratefully at her.

“You’re welcome.”, Mapi returned the smile. She paused before adding. “I hope I’ll see you and Boo again soon.”

“I live on the second floor, feel free to come for a visit.”, you suggested boldly.

Her beautiful brown eyes lit up when you made that offer. “I’ll come back to it.”

“Uhm y/n, do you like football?”, she ran her fingers nervously through her open hair.  

“Football? I’m not a fan, don’t ask me for any players but I do enjoy watch the occasional game. Why?”, you frowned confused.

“Well, I might leave some tickets at your door if that’s okay?”, Mapi asked all flustered.

The woman who intimidated you at first was seemingly nervous which you found equally amusing and heart-warming.

“I .. But I owe you something for finding my cat.”, you protested.

“I’d love for you to see the game and afterwards you could do me the favour of drinking a coffee with me which would be on you.”, she grinned innocently.

“How can I say no to that?”, you questioned smirking.

“Please say yes.”, the woman requested charmingly.

“Yes.”, you agreed.  

“Amazing.”, Mapi commented satisfied.

“I guess.. I’ll see you at the game then?”

“Yes, I can’t wait.”, she replied matching your high excitement.

Unseen by you once you had left with Boo Mapi started to dance around the living room with Bagheera in her arms. Now the defender anticipated the upcoming match day even more than usual knowing that you’d come to the game too.

You meant what you said you really didn’t have a clue about football teams despite it being such a big thing in the city you moved to. So, you were caught off guard when you realized that your neighbour played for Barcelona’s women team.

“Mapi!”, you yelled her name after the game has ended with a glorious victory for her side.

“Y/n!”, the football player’s eyes searched for you in the stands, when she found you, her face started to light up.

“You didn’t tell me that you’d play for Barca! I thought you played just for fun!”, you shook your head.

“Well, I play for fun and for Barca. Did you enjoy the game?”, Mapi wanted to know.

“I did.”, you confirmed happily.

“Great. I’ll quickly shower and when we can go to the coffee shop.”, your neighbour responded.

“Take your time. I don’t mind waiting for you.”, you declared. There was something about the way the defender looked in her jersey that made your heartbeat faster and felt you incredibly distracted by you hoped the effect would lessen when she was in her casual clothes.

“Okay.”

Mapi really didn’t keep you waiting for long. She appeared within minutes, baggy jeans and a plain white shirt on. Her hair was still dripping wet. She looked absolutely gorgeous.

To keep yourself from staring at her, you asked: “Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.“, she confirmed with a smile.

“I guess I’ll just follow you?” It was half statement, half question.

Mapi nodded: “Yeah, let’s go.“

She took you to little coffee shop close by. The brick walls were covered in hanging plants, vintage leather sofas lined up against it. It was nice but it gave you the impression that you had been here before.

Mapi ordered coffee and cake for the two of you and you immediately began talking. Yes, you were still captivated by how incredibly cool she looked but you felt more than comfortable talking about her love for football, when she had adopted Bagheera and what you did for a living.

In fact, the two of you kept chatting away while you paid and walked back home. The sight of your apartment door suddenly felt you with unexpected dread. It was the first time since the end of the game that you went quiet.

“I really enjoyed tonight.“, Mapi said. She looked happy, content with everything right now.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye yet, still you smiled at her: “Me too, Mapi.“

“Maybe we can do it again soon…?”, the football player suggested carefully.

“I would like that.“, you nodded with happily, relived that this wasn’t over yet.

Mapis smile brightened even more: “Me too.“

You casually turned the key into the lock of your door, expecting Mapi to say goodbye and take the stairs to her own apartment. But when you opened the door slightly, Boo slipped out through the gap and darted towards Mapi. Purring, she rubbed her head against Mapis legs.

“Oh shit. Sorry. Looks like Boo wanted to say hi to you.“, you laughed apologetically.

The defender didn’t seem to mind. Without hesitation, she kneeled down and petted your cat: “It’s fine. Hi, I’m supposed to tell you from Bagheera that she misses you.“

You chuckled: “Aw, she does?”

“Yes, I think she fell a bit in love with her like…“, Mapi paused her explanation and looked up at you.

“Like?”, you asked, your breath catching in your throat.

She got up from the floor, her eyes fixed on you.

“Like I fell for you.“

“You… you did?” Your heart suddenly felt too big for your chest, you tried to calm your breathing.

Mapis cheeks turned red. She grimaced, part regret, part shame. “Y-yes, sorry if… You can forget that if it makes you uncomfortable.“

You felt yourself essentially melting into a puddle. How could someone so hot be so sweet?

“Mapi… don’t apologize. I like you too.“, you assured her softly.

“Wait. You do?” There it was. That perfect little smile that made her whole face light up. It was infectious.

“I do.“

“Breakfast at mine tomorrow? With the cats?“

You nodded: “I’ll bring Boo and some fresh croissants.“

As promised you showed up with the pastries the next morning. Mapis apartment already smelled like freshly brewed coffee and on the table were glasses of orange juice and bowls of cut up fruit. If she wanted to impress you, you had to admit it did work.

Boo and Bagheera nestled up next to each other in Bagheeras cat bed again. The white and the black cat fitting into each other like missing puzzle pieces. You smiled to yourself as you sat down with Mapi and secretly thanked Boo that she had the same type as you.

[aquaticmercy]

Of Black Ink and White Lilies

Summary : Bucky wants to get a tattoo, so he asks you for advice.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) (written with tattooed!reader in mind.)

Warnings/tags : fluff. Tattoos. Angst if you really squint.

Requested by : myself!

Word count : 1.6k

Note : Not many of you on here know this, but I’m quite heavily tattooed! I have a sleeve and the top half of my chest is filled. My legs are quite full, too. My irl boyfriend also has tattoos, but he has significantly less than me, so he often asks me for advice on what to get next. This fic is inspired by him because he gives me Bucky vibes lol. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

Bucky Barnes had been through so much in his lifetime. Since witnessing the horrors of World War II, the brutality of mind control, and eventually finding his freedom in the 21st century, he was bound to have changed, grown, and healed more times than he would ever care to admit. For a while, he was convinced that he overstayed his welcome. Until he met you. 

When he met you, he felt more alive than he ever did. You gave him something he had not found in the modern world: meaning.

Which is why— for the past few weeks at least— he’d been glancing at your tattoos with more interest, more intent, than he usually did. He loved your tattoos, he always had. 

It was fascinating how you viewed your skin as a canvas of colors and lines. Every drop of ink that lived into your skin seemed to tell a part of your life, and he admired how you wore them proudly, loudly on display for the world to see. From the intricate patterns that wound up your beautiful body, to the shapes that danced along skin, every piece was personal, intimate, and a wonderful confirmation of the life you had lived.

And Bucky is now realising that he also wanted part of him immortalised in ink. 

One problem: he didn’t know where to start. Until very recently, he never considered getting a tattoo. Hell, back when he was young, tattoos were something most people didn’t have, and he was sure Steve would probably give him a raised eyebrow if he got it in the 40s. It was a taboo— only sailors and bikers, the ultra-macho type had them. 

It was something he had to unlearn while adapting to modern life. You definitely sped up the process for him. Seeing ink on such a lovely human being — who he thought was extremely easy on the eyes — made him think twice about his old-fashioned views on ink. 

Every time he glanced at you, sprawled out on the couch reading your latest favourite novel or cooking pancakes for breakfast in one of his oversized shirts with all your body art on display, he felt the urge—heard the little voice in his head that said maybe it was time he etched something permanent onto his own skin.

That evening, you did what you always do on a lazy day— you were both curled up on the couch, tangled in each others’ presence. You were just admiring your boyfriend’s features when you noticed his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, particularly focused on the ink winding up body. You were used to him admiring your tattoos. He often traced his fingers absentmindedly over them, but this felt a bit different.

"You're staring again, Barnes," you teased as you nudged him gently. He blinked, your words pulling from his deep thoughts. He gave you an almost shy smile.

"Sorry, doll," he said, his fingers tracing a line of ink. "M’ just thinking."

"About?" You asked, tilting your head inquisitively. 

He hesitated for a moment longer than he had meant to. When he finally spoke, his voice came out a little softer than usual. "Bout’ getting a tattoo,” he answered.

You raised your eyebrows, unable to hide your pleasant surprise. Bucky had never mentioned wanting a tattoo before. You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned closer. "Really?”

"Really,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. His metal hand rested on your knee, rubbing your skin. “I mean… I think so. I’m not sure what to get."

You had to admit, the thought of him even thinking of getting one made your heartbeat a little quick. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Until now you weren’t sure that day would ever come. 

“Get something that means a lot to you,” your voice adorably squeaky with excitement. “Something personal."

“There’s a lot that means something to me,” Bucky considered it, “but I don’t know what would be right. You have all these beautiful pieces, and they seem to fit you perfectly. I don’t know what would do that for me.”

"It will fit if it feels right to you.” You placed your hand over his and squeezed gently, “I’m sure if you think about it, something’ll stand out."

Bucky was quiet for a moment, like he was deep in thought. You didn’t press him; this was something he had to decide for himself, and any form of pressure wouldn’t help. After all, you wanted it to mean as much to him as yours meant to you.

"You think I should go for something small to start?" His voice was thoughtful as bright blue eyes lifted up to meet yours.

"That’s up to you.” You said, putting your hand on his, “But that might be a good idea. You can always get bigger ones later."

"One step at a time, doll." Bucky found himself chuckling at the thought of getting more than one tattoo. 

You smiled. "Whatever you choose, I know it’ll be perfect." You leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

—

A week passed since that conversation, and Bucky hadn’t said a word about the tattoo. You figured he either wasn’t ready yet or maybe still hadn’t made up his mind. 

It wasn’t until one evening, on a particularly rainy day, that the topic even came up again.

You came home that day, finding him waiting patiently in the living room. He had a small, shy smile on his handsome face.

"Hey, sweetheart," you greeted, placing your bag onto an armchair.

Bucky stood there almost awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. He was shifting his weight slightly like a high schooler that was about to ask his high school crush to prom. 

He was brimming with anticipation, or nerves? 

“I did something," he said, his voice a little smaller than usual. He was so cute when he was nervous.

"And what might that be?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Not answering, he instead reached down and lifted the hem of his t-shirt. He revealed a newly inked tattoo on his left side, just above his ribs. Your breath hitched as you saw in the delicate black and gray flowers that now decorated his battle-hardened skin.

Lilies.

The same flowers he had brought you on your very first date. 

Your heart fluttered as wildly as a baby bluebird taking flight for the first time. Your mind flooded back with memories of that day. It had been a wonderful date, simple and extravagant at all. He took you to dinner and a quiet walk along the waterfront, where you ended up talking for hours.

That day, Bucky had shown up with a bouquet of white lilies, their sweet smell filling the air as you had greeted him, and it filled your apartment for the entire week, making you think of him every time you’re home. The scent had made you think of Bucky so much that he had given you a lily-scented perfume for your first anniversary— and you knew it wasn’t cheap to get.

On that first date, the flowers were such a small gesture, but one that had stayed with you all this time. 

"Bucky…" you breathed out a sigh. Your hand reached out instinctively to touch the tattoo, but you stopped yourself, knowing it was still fresh. 

He read your emotions like an open book as his lips tugged into a small smile. "I remembered how much you liked them. How happy you looked when I brought them to you that night.” He put a hand on your waist. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. Of us."

Your eyes misted over, swelling with joy as you studied the delicate design. 

The art was perfect— elegant, simple, yet brimming with memories. You could see the care that had gone into choosing the design. The thought he had behind it. 

Bucky wasn’t the type to do things lightly and this tattoo was a perfect example of that.

“I can’t believe you chose this." You said, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s smile softened, gazing at you with an admiration you recognized. He gently pulled you into his arms, careful not to press his side against you. "You told me to get something that mattered the most to me.”

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes, caressing his cheek gently. You were overwhelmed by how sweet a man that had so much wrong done to him can be. "I love it. I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You pulled back slightly, wiping your eyes. "How was it?"

Bucky chuckled, “Kinda stings, but worth it."

It seemed silly to you, that a man who was so used to pain even thought of the ache of getting a tattoo, but then you realized this is possibly the first time he was willingly inflicting pain on himself, and it was to commemorate your relationship.

You stifled a sob at the realisation. "Careful babe,” You shook your head. “Next thing you know you’ll be getting full sleeves."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "You wish."

You pressed your lips to his, your heart full of fluttering content.

Bucky smiled against your lips. He may have been the Winter Soldier once, but now, he was simply Bucky— a man in love, with lilies inked into his skin to prove it.

“And maybe,” Bucky whispered quietly, already considering his next tattoo. “If you’re lucky.”

-end

[sansaorgana]

— THE PROPHECY

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!Reader

SUMMARY — After failing to protect your tribe, its members leave you behind to die according to your customs. When Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen finds you, he immediately knows you are a daughter of the desert that was promised to him in the prophecy. Just like you were promised a man from the stars to come for you.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I changed the request a little and I hope it's fine – I just had this idea and I really wanted to write it but the request itself inspired it! 💛 By the way, this request was sent in April... 🙈 I am so ashamed of myself and it's not even the only request like that because I still have one left to write with Feyd... Please, do forgive me... 🙏🏻 I know nothing about Fremen customs and I didn't bother to Google them because I had this idea in my head and I liked it so I didn't want to change it either way. Therefore, keep in mind that I treat The Fremen culture pretty loosely here. Reader is a Princess (I don't think they have royalty at all in canon), she has ritual tattoos on her body (not as many as Lady Jessica but still) and she has blue eyes from the spice (which is not even mentioned I think 🤔) but other than that I did not describe anything about her looks.

WARNINGS — mentions of slavery, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut), mentions of suicide, Reader gets beaten up badly in the beginning by The Harkonnen soldiers

WORD COUNT — 4,200

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE PROPHECY

In other worlds, noble families had all the possible privileges alongside the burden of responsibilities. In other worlds, Princesses were spoiled and insufferable creatures who had all their whims and wishes fulfilled. But it was no other world – it was a cruel and harsh Arrakis. It was a hot desert filled with nothing but sand and spice and your tribe expected that your parents would help them to survive – no matter what price.

Everyone had the same duty to keep the rest alive – your father, your mother and even you, a simple Princess. The Fremen were not rich, therefore you were wearing the same clothes as everyone else. But even if you tried to blend in with the crowd, everyone would recognise you because of the ritual tattoos covering your skin. The noble blood was nothing but poison running through your veins – it was unwanted. Every failure was blamed upon you and you would drink the collected water as the last because your job was to make sure your tribe would live.

You had lost your mother first, even before the new Harkonnen invasion and the oppression of The Atreides. But your father died recently, in the very same ruins where your tribe left you to die in the ashes and heat before they attempted to run away. You were their Princess and your family had failed to protect them – the tough custom was to leave you behind and let the desert take care of you. It would either swallow you whole or you would prove yourself by digging yourself out.

But in this case – it was leaving you behind for The Harkonnens to find you and take care of you. It was worse than death in the desert. Perhaps their ways of murder were quicker and more sophisticated but they were unnatural. You were a Fremen and if you were to die, you wanted to do it by slowly decaying in the sand.

“Mercy… Mercy…” You begged quietly in Chakobsa language when they found out that the body laying amongst the ruins was still alive and breathing.

One of the Harkonnen soldiers pulled you up by your hair and you could see them all through hazy eyes, in their black uniforms covering their unhealthy pale white skin. 

“That bitch is alive,” one of them drawled out. “Are you going to talk?” He leaned in to ask you but you didn’t answer. You had no physical strength to answer him but also no spiritual motivation to keep going.

You were already prepared to die and you felt so indifferent that their punches and kicks did not bring you any pain at all. They dragged you by your hair and bruised your skin, they threatened you and cut you in a few places but with each drop of blood, you also felt your life leaking out of your body and what a sweet relief it was.

You were lying curled up on the ground and completely lost track of time. You could have been there for centuries, long hours or mere minutes only. You had absolutely no idea. You only waited for death to finally release you from this life and from the endless sands of Arrakis.

Your dream was to fly – fly away and see other worlds. See the worlds with greenery and water. To breathe in the fresh air and to be invisible in the crowd, to no longer be a Princess.

Or to simply disappear. That option was not so bad either. Everything was better than this life, certainly.

For now, they left you alone and proceeded to ruin the temple around you. And some part of you grieved this loss of your culture but the other part had no love for it anymore because you couldn’t care less at this point and because this world and these people had brought you nothing but pain and oppression. You loved and hated the Fremen equally.

Perhaps The Harkonnens had left you alone to regenerate before they’d start kicking and beating you again. Perhaps they would let you die in peace – that was doubtful, though. Perhaps they thought you were already dead but you were sure they did not because they were very committed to their art of killing.

When you heard heavy steps approaching you and their muffled voices explaining something to the man who had just arrived, you realised that they had been simply waiting for someone more important. And he was probably the one who would bring death to you. You tried to open your eyelids at least a little to see the face of your killer as you prayed quietly for a painless death even though you knew very well that no gods were listening to you. No gods would listen in a destroyed temple anyway. 

The gods were angry and their anger was always aimed at people like you – the noble Fremen who hadn’t managed to keep their people safe. You were doomed in this life and in the afterlife. There was no escape.

The man who had just walked inside the cave in which you were lying had an intriguing face because he was quite handsome for a Harkonnen. He had to be someone important, too, because his clothes were more elegant. He even had a cape attached to his stillsuit.

“Spy. Left behind,” one of his soldiers informed him and the man finally looked down and spotted you.

You bravely kept looking at him even though you knew already that painless death would be no option from his hands. You even straightened yourself up, slowly and gritting your teeth because you didn’t want to hiss out of pain and give them any satisfaction. Now, you were on your knees.

“No trace of the others,” the soldier explained.

“They’ve gone South to hide in the storms,” the new man commented and his voice made a shiver go down your spine and formed a knot in your stomach. There was something extremely eerie about him in a way that no ordinary Harkonnen could match. He was evil and twisted – even his voice was.

He was given a blade and he examined it as you were examining him, trying to figure him out even though it was pointless since it was the last minute of your life, most likely. Yet, stupid human brain always had to be kept entertained, always needed a distraction – even in a time like this.

“Send this message to The Baron,” the man commanded. “The North is liberated and secure. Harvest spice at will,” he looked back at you as if he was trying to mock you or tease you – so unaware how much you simply did not care anymore.

If it was up to you, you would blow up the whole planet. You would wipe Arrakis out of every galactic map.

“Yes, Na-Baron,” the man behind him bowed his head and then you realised that the demon in front of you was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen himself.

It was quite ironic – he was of noble blood, too. Perhaps it would be an honour to be killed by him if you were a simple girl but you were not. Maybe it was a small mercy of the gods – a small, ironic smile. Yes, they would bring death now but at least your murderer was your equal and not a common Harkonnen scum.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly, clenching his jaw and your own sore muscles tensed, expecting another kick or a blow or things much, much worse. You just kept sitting there and looking up at him, too weak to even beg for mercy anymore.

And you didn’t want to either.

“She won’t talk,” another soldier of his told him and Feyd-Rautha tilted his head.

After a short while of silence, he crouched down in front of you and he tore a part of your stillsuit off of your body, revealing your arm and one side of your chest. You made no attempt to hide away from him or to yell for him to stop because you knew it would not help you in any way and it would only cost you even more of your dignity.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed body and stood up again.

“She is their Princess,” he pointed out loud. “Her marks give her away,” he added. “She is no spy. She was left to die as a punishment of her tribe.”

You were surprised how much he knew about your customs. Feyd-Rautha turned around to look at you again.

“I do not care about the Fremen traditions,” he informed you. “You will go with me,” he ordered.

You were too weak to move, of course. When two of his soldiers forced you to move up as they dragged you by your hair, you fell down on the ground. They kept forcing you up again and again, until you completely lost consciousness.

A man from the stars. 

You were a young girl again or perhaps you were a visitor in your old memory because you could see yourself sitting there, inside the dark cave deep under the temple with a Reverend Mother and a few other veiled Bene Gesserit women. A young girl with tears still in the corners of her eyes from the painful ritual of marking her body with the black ink. She had just become a Princess and she already knew it was a path of pain and sacrifice. Now, she had been tested with Gom Jabbar – another suffering filling this small body of a little girl. She hadn’t asked for any of this.

“A man from the stars,” the Reverend Mother said to her. A prophecy.

“What about him?” The girl asked, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hand, forgetting that they were sensitive now. The tears burnt her freshly-inked skin and she hissed. Bene Gesserit women smiled contemptuously. It was the Princess’ punishment for shedding tears and wasting water.

“He will come for you,” The Reverend Mother found her eyes through all the chains in her veil. Little girl felt a chill going down her spine at those words and she was not sure whether it was a promise or a threat.

She never told her parents about this prophecy and soon she forgot about it anyway. She grew up to be too big to believe in fairytales.

When you opened your eyes again, you gasped and sat up rapidly as the water splashed all around you. You looked down, terrified, and realised that you were naked inside a bathtub, surrounded by a few terrified maids who had moved away at the sight of you awakening.

“Wh-what is happening?” You asked them. Some of them were clearly Harkonnen with their white skin, big black eyes and bald heads. Some of them were Fremen slaves but they were not from your tribe because you couldn’t recognise any of them.

“Na-Baron asked us to clean you up and take care of your wounds, my Lady,” the Harkonnen maid informed you. She was not sure how to address you but you couldn’t care less about that. What shocked you the most was…

“Water!” You yelped and tried to get out of the bathtub although you were too weak to do so. “You are wasting water!”

“We have more than enough water here in the palace,” the Fremen slave woman told you and you calmed yourself down although you couldn’t help but feel angry about the injustice.

Of course they had water in the Arrakeen’s palace. The Harkonnens, The Atreides… People like them never suffered – even in a place like this.

You allowed the maids to go back to cleaning you up. When you were as fresh as never before, you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror. Even your skin looked a shade paler because it was no longer stained with the sand. Your hair was shining and the skilled hands of one of the maids braided it before your wounds were patched up and your body was covered with a semi-transparent dress. It was very feminine and quite revealing and the colours were all hues of orange.

“Na-Baron wishes to see you now, my Lady,” one of the maids bowed her head at you and two other maids took you by your arms to help you walk down the corridor to join Feyd-Rautha since you were still too weak to walk.

He was sitting by the big table that was filled with so much food you had never seen in your life. The colourful fruit filled with juice and water made your mouth drool.

The maids let go of your arms to bow down in front of him. You did not bow down but he did not comment. He had his legs placed up there on the table’s surface and he smirked at you, beckoning you over with his finger.

“Come, Princess,” he mocked your title and you limped towards him. “Leave us,” he ordered the maids and they left the room with their heads kept low out of fear and respect.

You finally reached the table and you grasped the edge of it for support as you moved even closer to Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You were not scared of him because you were not scared of death anymore and his title did not intimidate you because you were of noble blood, too – even though in his eyes you had to be a dirty savage anyway.

His face fascinated you because it was so unnaturally beautiful in a way that no Harkonnen should be. But still, you kept staring at his face with nothing but pure hatred.

“You must be starving,” he pointed out at the chair nearby. “Treat yourself.”

“Thank you,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth and took the seat, too hungry to dismiss such an offer.

You were devouring a grapefruit, allowing its sticky juice to run down your chin when Feyd-Rautha put his legs back on the floor and leaned in over the table to take a closer look at you.

“What do they call you, Princess?” He asked in a low, raspy whisper. “Have my men hurt you badly?”

“(Y/N),” you answered and looked deep into his eyes, showing him that you were not scared of him. “I can handle that.”

“That is a pretty name for a strong woman,” he commented. “You will be my slave,” he said casually and leaned back on the chair.

You didn’t know what to say to this, really. You knew that protesting was foolish – you didn’t want to lose the opportunity to keep your stomach full and it was obvious from the beginning that he hadn’t brought you to the palace as a guest anyway. Still, it felt wrong to quietly accept such a fate.

“I am no maid,” you only said.

“Not like that,” Feyd-Rautha smirked. “Not a maid. A special slave,” he explained but you kept staring at him in silence, killing him with your gaze only. He found it amusing as he chuckled. “You know, Princess, you are a daughter of the desert,” he pointed his finger at you and you raised your eyebrow at him. “I was told by a Bene Gesserit witch that a daughter of the desert would give me a strong heir who shall inherit the Empire. The Harkonnen and Fremen bloodline could not be further apart and that is why mixed together they will create the most powerful species of men. An ultimate man,” Feyd-Rautha explained.

“You are the man from the stars,” you mumbled out, feeling weird with the fact that your prophecy had been true, after all.

Feyd-Rautha was taken aback by your question and he had no idea what it meant but you did not feel like explaining.

“You want me to be your whore. You want me to push out your heirs but they will not be any powerful, ultimate beings, Na-Baron. They will be pure chaos. That is the only thing that can ever come out of our bloodlines mixed together,” you pointed out harshly. “You poison my world, you oppress my people, you killed my family. And now you’re asking me to be your concubine.”

“I must have missed the part where I am asking,” Feyd-Rautha clenched his jaw. You were getting him angry and it was nearly funny how spoiled he was that he really had thought you would agree to such a proposition after such a past.

“Kill me,” you requested and put the grapefruit down. “Kill me because I will be no use to you. I will never be your whore and I would rather die than give birth to your sickly bastards.”

“Why are you loyal to the people who left you behind to rot in the sand?” He asked, tilting his head. He was no longer angry but simply curious.

“That is the custom,” you only answered.

Your relationship with your tribe and your world was of a difficult kind but Feyd-Rautha did not need to know about it. He was an intruder, an outsider, an oppressor. He didn’t deserve to know your heart.

“You can’t run away from your prophecy, Princess,” Feyd-Rautha reminded you before leaving the table and leaving you alone inside the room.

When he left, you went back to eating – as much as you could and as fast as you managed. You felt like an animal and a savage indeed but there was no one to witness that desperate act anyway and you could not remember the last time you had something in your mouth.

Feyd-Rautha did not bother you personally but the maids were following you around and even though you were given your own room with a beautiful view of the desert, you were never truly left alone. You had beautiful but pretty humiliating dresses to wear and you were given baths every day which felt like a profanity for a Fremen.

You were well fed but most of the time you were bored. You knew that Na-Baron was awaiting your answer. You just hadn’t been told how much time exactly you had to make a choice.

Choosing death was simple and easy. Choosing to be his slave-concubine meant betraying your people and betraying who you were, even though you had always felt like you did not fit in with the Fremen and you always wanted to leave Arrakis. It had been a distant dream, too foolish and impossible to even be mentioned to anyone. But now, it could be true. As Feyd-Rautha’s new pet that he seemed to already be pretty fond of, you would be able to visit other worlds.

Your prophecy had claimed, after all, that the man from the stars would come for you. His prophecy had claimed that the daughter of the desert would give him a powerful heir. If it was true and you would become a mother of the future Emperor – well, that was quite tempting, indeed. No matter the price.

Staring at the desert behind your window, you were hugging yourself and biting on your lower lip while you were spending your evening overthinking – it had been your only occupation lately.

You had a feeling that this evening Feyd-Rautha would join you because you were left alone by your maids which was unusual. And indeed, a few moments later the doors opened again and he walked inside. His steps were heavy and confident as usual. It would be your first conversation ever since the one after your arrival.

“My Princess,” he greeted you in that harsh voice of his as he stood behind you and put his hands on your arms in quite a gentle but still very possessive manner.

“I have not made my decision yet,” you only said.

“Decision?” Feyd-Rautha was surprised and then he laughed. “You do not get to choose. Do you think I would let you choose death when I know that your womb might give me an heir that has been promised to me in a prophecy?” He lowered his voice and his words sent a chill down your body. His lips were brushing your neck and earlobe and you tried to get away from his grip but he tightened it and you couldn’t do anything about it.

“I should have killed myself,” you drawled out through gritted teeth.

“I suspected you might do so, therefore I ordered the maids to invade your privacy all day and night, my Princess,” he smirked. You could feel his lips curling on your skin.

“I’m going to kill every child you put inside of me,” you threatened.

“You can try,” he kept smirking but his grasp tightened even further.

“I will not be your slave,” you protested and kept shaking your head even though you knew it was pointless.

“Concubine,” Feyd-Rautha tried to convince you as if he really cared for the transaction to go pretty smoothly. And, apparently, he was in a mood to bargain. 

“Wife,” you spat out and a long silence occurred. His grip loosened and he took a step back, eyeing you up and down as he let out a deep laugh. You turned your head around to look at him. “I won’t push out bastards,” you stated.

“I have no desire for a wife,” Na-Baron dismissed you.

“And I have no desire for a husband but that is the only way I see it working,” you explained. “Of course you don’t need my permission to do anything with me. You might use me, imprison me to make sure I won’t get rid of your spawn and then you can kill me. But I am not as weak as you think of me, I am a daughter of the desert. I will change your life into hell and I will make you regret every hour, every day until I eventually die but believe me, I will make this time pass by very slowly,” you threatened.

“And why would I want to marry such a woman?”

“Because I have not described a wife. I have described a slave,” you explained. “Do you wish to know what kind of wife I would be?” You raised your eyebrow and took a step further towards him. He seemed to be intrigued as he tilted his head and you smirked to yourself. It seemed to be working – your plan to tempt him and convince him.

You had to secure your future and your position and since he was your oppressor, you felt no guilt about using manipulation to get there.

“You might think of me as lower than you but I am a Princess just like you are a Na-Baron and only our customs differ. Imagine taking me back to your world, your exotic war prize from Arrakis. You can dress me up in those pretty dresses and show me off, swollen with your special heir. I am a savage to the outsiders but couldn’t you turn the tables and make it an advantage? Your wild, savage wife that nobody knows anything about and who everyone fears?” You whispered, seductively.

“I know what you're doing,” Feyd-Rautha breathed out but even though he was aware of you trying to manipulate him, he was visibly giving in anyway. “You’re going to kill me in my sleep,” he added, looking intensely into your eyes and you chuckled at that.

“Perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “But isn’t the prophecy worth the risk?” You asked.

After all, you were sacrificing and risking a lot, too. And it would be only fair if the transaction costed you both the equal amount.

“You are the jewel of Arrakis,” Feyd-Rautha chuckled and raised his hand to undo your braids and watch your hair let loose.

“And you are its poison,” you remarked as he smirked, eyeing you up and down.

“Together, we can rule over the worlds,” he whispered.

“Or destroy them,” you added.

Na-Baron shook his head but the smirk remained on his lips. He found it amusing that you had an answer for everything and how gloomy they all were. However, so far, it was entertaining for him. He brushed your collarbone with his fingertips.

“I surely have more experience in destroying them than I have in ruling over them,” he confessed but the hunger in his eyes was a clear message to you that he did not mean only Arrakis but also women overall.

“Some are too wild to be ruled over and too wild to be destroyed,” you informed him and he found your eyes again after staring at your chest and neck. For the first time, you saw that he was genuinely intrigued. Perhaps he finally saw you as a challenge. A riddle. A savage to tame.

Whatever would keep you alive and in a position of power.

Because no matter how much you were trying to convince yourself that you were ready to die, this life stubbornly seemed to keep you alive and there must have been a purpose in it.

Therefore, you were ready to receive everything this new life had to offer for you now. As if you had died in that temple and now you were given a second chance.

MASTERLIST

[satoruhour]

a/n: boss moved a few days ago and i got so much inspiration just from one of the movers calling her 美女 WOW !

warnings: perv!geto, mover!geto, reader has a deadbeat husband boooo, gojo listens in i guess? sex in a TRUCK, cheating, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, fingering, p -> v penetration, unprotected sex, doggy, chokehold, creampie / breeding kink, panty stealing, n*sfw under the cut

thinking about…

mover!geto who gets notified on a job to some suburban neighbourhood to assist in a move, known for his fast team of workers and efficient way of packing. he’s surprised when he’s connected to a woman’s voice, greeting him cheerfully before setting up a meeting.

mover!geto who finds his eyes flicking down to get a look at your tits when he reaches your place, accentuated by the low cleavage of the sundress you’re donning in this heat. you’re also sneaking glances at the other, eyes travelling over his inked arms and tied hair but geto doesn’t notice because your voice is even more hypnotic in person, bringing him into the house to show the various furniture that’s about to be packed up. by now he already would’ve mapped out the best way to transport everything out, but the way your hips sway and your ass looks makes him giddy.

mover!geto who lies and says he needs a few more visits to your house to finalise everything, noting down how your husband treats you like crap, bosses you around and does nothing but laze around all day. and so he slips in little hints, your husband should get into guiness from how much he sits in front of the tv, and initiates small brushes of his fingers on yours, a hand on your back as he passes.

mover!geto who calls you with a pretty girl! when he needs to know which furniture to bring and which to dispose of, making your heart skip a beat — because how else would you react when there’s an attractive man in a bun with arms decorated with tattoos calls you? all the while his jumps from how quickly you answer, scampering over to him to nod with your bright eyes and big smile, no matter how shitty your husband was being. you truly didn’t know what you did to him, mind wandering to wanting to see your breasts bounce in his face while he flipped up your dress to fuck you.

mover!geto who orders another truck to be brought to your old home, getting confused looks from his workers when everything could already fit except for a few small things and he doesn’t tell them it’s already on the way with his best friend in the front seat. and of course your husband is ready to make his way to the new home immediately to continue doing nothing, leaving the both of you.

“you got everything?” geto asks, prompting you to look around at the barren house, a place once filled with love which turned sour and stagnant, but now is no place for those memories, nodding with a soft smile towards geto who only guides you out the front door.

“yep, think so. thanks again, geto-san!” the move only shoots you a small grin, and asks you to call him suguru instead, helping you to carry the smaller chairs and items for the last truck, noticeably smaller than the others. he stretches out a hand for you to ride at the back of the truck, almost collapsing from how soft your hands felt. if only he could feel them around his cock. his best friend, gojo, who’s also from the moving company shoots a salute in greeting, predicting what’s coming with a knowing look in his eyes as he slides the partition close.

mover!geto who has you on your back a few minutes after the truck takes off for the new house, you clutching onto the cling wrap for some stability while the long-haired mover laps at your clit, large, rough hands spreading your legs further and further while your moans echo throughout the large truck. you’re getting wet so easily as your body shakes from the sensitivity, feeling the other grin between your legs.

“feeling good, pretty girl?” you manage a whimper, knuckles turning white from how tightly you were balling your fists and he simply grabs them, keeping his eyes on you as he places them on his hair, already all unkempt.

“use me, baby,” geto groans lowly when you pull just slightly to see his face better, barely seeing the glint in his eyes and the shine of your arousal on his face in the dark truck, “use me like you fuckin’ mean it.”

all suguru can do is groan out when you push him down onto your pussy, continuing his abuse on your puffy clit while you grind your hips into his face, clearly unsatisfied with your husband. your mover’s tongue just feels so damn good on your neglected core that you can’t care about consequences right at this moment, gasping in surprise at the finger that draws circles around your hole. 

“cleaned it earlier, don’t worry that pretty lil head of yours, okay?” geto reassures as you nod, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks his thick finger in so easily. it pulses around its tip, feeling your thigh shake beneath his hand while it’s pushed right to its hilt. you’ve never reached this deep with your own, body already craving more when it moves against him. 

“oh, needy baby. bet your husband doesn’t do shit, hm?” you pout and shake your head, hand closing around his wrist to get him to move and he chuckles, barely warning you before he inserts a second finger slowly. the stretch feels so good and you whine with a tug to his hair that’s already falling apart, breathless moans leaving your mouth.

“he’s shit,” you have to calm yourself before you mumble, a hand goes through his hair, eyes fluttering close when geto starts to move his fingers, “shit at everything.” geto coos at that, head dripping back down and the combination of his tongue and his fingers make your eyes roll back, lips finally muttering out a suguru and geto moans into your perfect little pussy, loving the way you tense and clench around him.

mover!geto who gets a knock on the partition, fifteen minutes, gojo says and geto has you on your hands and knees quicker than you can blink, easing into your warm, dripping pussy with his hard cock. he sighs in relief when he’s finally in you, willing himself not to cum like a virgin just from being in your cunt.

“s— suguru… s’big…” you moan out, head hanging low as you feel the pain morph into pleasure and you’re moving your hips back onto his. geto still has to catch his breath for a minute, but the way you turn behind to look at him with teary eyes and downturned eyebrows and with a desperate plea, “show me how much you’ve been wanting me, suguru,” geto snaps his hips into yours, a loud groan leaving his lips at how wet your cunt is, essence dripping right from your core onto the truck.

“i’ll show you, pretty baby,” he starts a pace, waist bruised from how tight he holds them while he fucks into you. you’re just as tight and warm as he imagined, and pliant, too, cock twitching in you when he sees how obediently you take it. “show you how fucking much i’ve been meaning to bury my cock in you.”

“c’mon, spread your cheeks for me, mama,” geto whispers, a whimper leaving him when you do just that and he has a front row seat to your wet cunt sucking him in so well while he slams into you like an animal, not caring at the way your face brushes up against the harsh bottom of the truck, mouth going limp with multiple mewls filling the space.

“oh— fuck yes!! right there, right t—there suguruuu…” a hand goes to rub at your clit and the sensation sends you reeling, along with the musky smell of sex in the air and the pap! pap! pap! of geto’s hips against yours. you can hear just how wet you are from the way geto rams into you, pre-cum and your juices mixing and squelching each time his length disappears into you. he yanks you up, looping an arm around your neck and another ’round your waist, the arch of your back allowing the other to go deeper.

“cumming, s’guru, i’m gonna cum—” everything is hazy and blurred from how good geto sinks into you paired with the irregular bumps of the truck on the road, lightheaded already from the chokehold he has you in. the truck goes over a bump suddenly and the thick cock inside you hits a spot that has your eyes reaching the skies, a loud, choked moan leaving your lips before it gets swallowed up by geto’s, his hand turning your head to meet his.

“good fuckin’ girl,” geto says breathlessly into your mouth, “give me all your cum, darlin’.”  

your whole body is on fire, breaking off the kiss momentarily to whine out profanities until geto’s asking, delirious, “where do you want me to cum, baby?”

and your primal need to be bred takes over, crying out now with tears lining your face as your body still jerks from the mindblowing orgasm. “inside suguru— i-inside, please—!”

suguru just grunts out at your plea, body also reaching his limit before he stills and he reaches his high, shivering behind you as he spurts hot cum deep into your cunt, spilling and overloading until your pussy’s full of his seed. he feels fulfilled, hissing when your hole clenches around him one last time, removing his cock from you slowly.

“keep it in ya, yeah?” geto grins just as the truck begins to slow down and you’re scrambling to appear decent while there’s the hot flow of your mover’s cum dripping out of your pussy, stifling a smile when you see your undies tucked at the back at his pocket and an instruction that if you want it back, you’re gonna have to find me in the toilet and let me fuck you full of my cum again.

mover!geto who finally gets you wrapped around his finger just like he’ll get you wrapped around his cock many, many more times after this.

[lucauali]

princess treatment - michael kaiser

warning: suggestive but not fully nsfw, kissing, sensual touching, groping, kinda bratty attitude but mostly in a playful way, reader wears a dress and heels

this is very loosely inspired by that one tik tok trend about having a princess attitude and it made me think of him <3

205k likes, 30k comments, and 1.7mil views in less than three hours. 

When Michael posted the tik tok featuring you as his one and only, you knew it would probably garner some attention, but not this much. Not only was it a hard launch for your relationship, it also showed bits of pieces of what it was like to be Michael Kaiser’s partner:

-

It was late into the night and all you could think about was satisfying your midnight cravings. 

You got out of bed and slipped on some shorts and a random shirt that you found in Michael’s closet. The plan was to silently leave the apartment and go grab the food you craved before Michael could notice your absence. Said plan, however, fell through as soon as you grabbed the door knob of the bedroom. 

“Mein Liebchen, where are you going?” Michael’s groggy voice interrupted you. The German sat up as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He pat the empty space next to him and urged you to go back to him. 

You felt bad for waking him up, especially when he looked so sweet and precious in his tired state, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep, I’m gonna run out at get a snack. I’ll be back soon.” 

You tried to leave again, but you heard the sheets shuffling on the bed. Michael was walking towards you with his eyes barely open. 

“I’ll drive you. Wanna stay with you.” He tried reaching for you hand and finally found it after a few attempts due to the lack of light in the room. You tried to reassure him that you could manage by yourself and he needed to rest, but he insisted on going with you. 

This led to you being in the passenger seat of Michael’s Porsche as he drove to the closest McDonald’s. His hand was caressing your bare thigh as you both hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio. 

Only Michael would take you to McDonald’s to satiate your spicy nugget craving in the middle of the night. 

-

After another successful victory for Bastard Munchen, Michael wanted to take you out to a fancy dinner. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the after party? I don’t want to take away you away from your team and ruin the post-game excitement.” Michael simply huffed at the inquiry as he adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his button down dress shirt. 

“Yes, I’m sure. They’re probably just going to the club. After all, they don’t have an angel of a partner waiting for them at home like I do.” Michael winked at you and laughed as you rolled your eyes at his last statement. 

You walked over to the assortment of clothes you had as options for tonight, “okay fine, but don’t complain when you get bombarded with texts and calls from Ness and the others begging for you to join them.” 

Michael completely ignored your statement and stood flush to your back, examining your options. 

“Wear the red dress. The one with the slit.” His hands lay on your hips and slowly rubbed up and down your sides. 

“Since you’re begging for me to wear it, I guess I have to.” You let out an exaggerate, but amused sigh as you felt Michael smile against the back of your neck. You slipped into the sleek dress with a pair of heels and applied makeup as quickly as possible. All the while, Michael wouldn’t let you go. Even as you were applying your favorite lip combo, he insisted you do so while sitting on his lap. His tattooed hand grazed tour thigh that was exposed by the slit. 

“On second thought, let’s just stay here.” The sheer audacity to say that as you were getting ready made you side eye the blond through the mirror of your vanity. 

Michael giggled as you simply ignored his suggestion, “I’m kidding, Meine Prinzessin, don’t worry. As much as I would like to keep you here for my eyes only, I want to show you off as much as I can.” He kissed the nape of your neck. You knew that his club manager’s request to keep your relationship a secret was starting to get to him. He had done well to keep it low key for the past year and seven months. 

You turned around so you could see him and  grasped at his pouty cheeks. It was a sight that you hoped only you would ever behold. Placing a gentle kiss on his pouted lips, you leaned your forehead against his. Michael closed his eyes and just basked in your presence and warmth. After a few minutes, he suddenly lifted you up bridal style and made his way to the front door. You giggled as he carried you all the way to the Porsche. 

You’re the only person in the world that Michael would choose to celebrate with in such an intimate way. 

-

Even as you scrolled through all the comments from the video, the buzzing didn’t cease. Thus, your beloved woke up from his midday nap, it’s for his much needed beauty sleep, he claims. Michael lifted his head from your stomach with his eyes closed, as he tends to do. His arms that surround your middle section squeezed just a tad tighter as he groaned and grumbled.

“What are you looking at? Put that down and nap with me.” You ignored his demand and simply turned your phone towards him. It took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes before he started to absorb what was in front of him. The smug grin on his face was expected due to the comments you saw that praised him as ‘god-tier’ boyfriend material. As fast as his smile appeared, it vanished.

Michael abruptly sat up with a mortified look on his face, “excuse me?! Did you see this? User ‘iluvkais3r’ said that you should leave me!” You actually didn’t see that comment, but it still made you let out a full belly laugh. Michael scoffed and pushed his face back into your stomach while grumbling incoherent words. Your hand found its place in his hair and you scratch his scalp. After a few minutes, you felt his breathing pattern even back out. Putting your phone down, you chose to join him in his state of slumber.

[sweetenerobert]

toy story

8.1k | action figure!joel miller x male reader

summary: contemplating throwing out your favorite toy, he comes to life and makes your last night before you leave for college memorable

warnings: MDNI 18+, agalmatophilia, strong language, slight possessive joel, childhood friends to lovers (if you squint) no mention of age besides reader leaving for college, l-word drops, pet names (mostly doll and baby), spanking, dirty talking joel, no description of reader, but joel lifts you (1), oral (m!giving/m!receiving) rimming, spit as lube, unprotected p in a, creampie,

inspired by this post , also huge thanks to @strang3lov3 new tattoo for this fucking idea, i love you so much and thank you for letting me rant to you about this idea that been in my drafts for FUCKING MONTHS

thanks to @minispidey for beta, love you <333

dividers by @saradika-graphics

➴ navigation page/masterlist in bio

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read it on a03 as well

I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS!! SOOO MUCH!!

Moonlight piercing through the cotton curtains of your childhood bedroom, dust dancing through the luminescent shards from your window. Two boxes stacked on each other in the corner of your room, your closet’s life ripped away from the clothes once hung in the small confined space. 

Wiping the sweat that littered your forehead as you huffed a breath, you lay down on the small circular rug that riddled the floor, staring at the ceiling light. You were getting ready to leave for college, and packing up your life seemed more stressful than lifting weights off your shoulders. 

Constant choices about what to throw away or bring with you kept swimming in your brain, and overthinking two simple decisions kept making your head spin, mostly ending with you sitting silently thinking about your answer. This wasn’t one of those situations; you had just finished packing and felt like you deserved a break.

Alone in your childhood home while your parents had picked up late shifts and your siblings were out, the silence was deafening, but you preferred the quiet. It gave you time to process everything. Seeing the stars tapped onto your ceiling made you smirk as you glanced around your bare room.

Eyes catching an object underneath the bed, you turned your body to understand the object better. It was your old lumberjack action figure when you were a kid; it must’ve fallen off the shelf over your window. You don’t remember if it came with a name or you made it up, but you called him Joel. 

That name stuck with you until now, even when you were a kid, when you introduced Joel to your friends as they commented on it. Being a “weird name,” you didn’t care; you loved the name. 

Attempting to grab him from the bed, you realize that it would be easier to grab Joel from your bed. You were quickly climbing up on your bed and scrambling to the side, quickly sliding your hand down the crack of the wall and your bed. Tips of your fingers grazing the fake axe on the back of the action figure, biting your lip as your nail pulls the toy closer towards the wall, retracting your head a few feet up as you see it closer to the wall.

The action figure is in your grasp, sliding your knuckles up on the cold wall while your palm touches the cotton sheets wrapped around your mattress. The toy is now in your hand, and you notice how it’s looked the same after all the years. A couple of tiny patches of color are missing from his plastic hair, and his face and plastic beard stay the same. Joel’s clothes are dusty, balls of lint cover his pants and shirt, and his boots are dustier than anything. You quickly blow a puff of air, trying to clean him off the best you can.

“Hey, Joel. How ya been?’ 

Did I use to talk to this thing? Man, I was a weird kid. 

Joel was your therapist before you even knew what therapy was — telling him about how you finally could spell Wednesday without misspelling it, How you passed each spelling/vocabulary test, and how the boys at school were bullying you. Joel always listened to you; he was your toy, and he didn’t care as long as he was there to protect you – metaphorically.

Loving Joel was easy—he was your first crush—but trying to explain that to a toy was difficult. Bringing Joel with you to live in your college dorm seemed like a hard decision. Glancing at the tiny trash can next to your bed, you glance back at Joel and discard him in the trash bin. 

Wiping your hands on your pants, you looked at the bags and boxes that had cluttered the corner of your room and huffed a breath in annoyance as you decided it would be wise to have your life packed away downstairs.

It didn’t take you long to realize how much you hated your fucking stairs. You were leaning on the top of the stairs – on the handrail, catching your breath. Your bedroom was in your field of view; you would’ve crawled into your room if your knees hadn’t creaked with each movement. 

One of the main things you wouldn’t miss about your house would be the stairs that killed you slowly with each trip up and down the wooden stairwell. 

Slowly getting up from the floor, your feet trudged towards your bedroom door. You were pushing the gateway of your bedroom, earning a creak from its hinges. Your eyes glanced down towards the dark chocolate wood floor with each step into your room. “Finally, I’m ready to lay down in my –” You started to pick your head up, glancing at the figure sitting on your night, playing with a pink eraser he must’ve found in the trash bin.

“– bed.”

"Doll, what's up with you throwin' me away?"

W-what? That one question kept flying around in your head. Not, who is this? Not, what is happening? Just a simple question: What kept spinning around your head?

In the back of your mind, you knew who it was sitting in front of you. It wasn’t a dream, not your imagination; it was real life. Your action figure — your lumberjack, Joel in the flesh? 

He looked real, too real. His hair's curls looked fluffy, and his skin's wrinkles looked defined. His clothes looked like he’d gotten them from a store, with wrinkles littering his shirt and jeans and his boots rubbing against the wood. Your childhood toy was in front of you, alive and in the flesh.

“Too stunned to speak, doll?” 

Shaking your head from the thoughts swimming around you, you look at the male before you. “What?”

“Got my answer. Can’t believe I rendered my doll speechless.”

Joel’s build shocked you as he stood up from his position; his shoulders were broad, his biceps bulging from his flannel – you knew he rolled his sleeves up. Vein’s threatening to burst from his arms and hands. Your former action figure who walked in front of you felt menacing, like his aura made you cower in fear, but instead of fear, it was astonishment. That something you wished for years ago finally came true.

“How is this possible? How are you real?” You quivered. 

“The better question better be, “Why would I throw out such a precious toy?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, doll, y’think I’m stupid or somethin’; I knew y’threw me out. Half m’foot was in the trash can when I started growing.” 

The answer was plain and simple: you didn’t want to bring him with you to college or leave him to give to someone else, so you thought just about getting rid of him would be. Clearly, Joel’s surprise appearance made things more complicated than they should. “I didn’t throw you out,” You quickly spat out. “You fell in there by accident.”

Joel’s tall figure stood tall in front of you, his once plastic hand – now turned flesh and genuine, his thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip. Your body was shuddering against his touch. “Y’know your body betrays you, sweetheart.”

“Just be honest; it doesn't hurt me, jus’ your pride.”

“J-Joel, listen —”

“Ah, now you know I exist; you were treating me like some hallucination,” Joel announced, backing up, sticking his thumb in the waistband of his jeans. 

“You’re aware that this could very well be a hallucination,” You shrugged.

“Slap yourself, then.” 

“Huh?” 

“Slap. Yourself. In. The face. Then.” Joel enunciated. 

“N-No! I’m not going to do that!” You exclaimed. 

“Okay, fine, then. You’ll never know if this is a hallucination then.” 

Groaning, you quickly connected your palm against your cheek, the skin on your palm and face stink earning a wince that you suck from your teeth.”Happy, now?”

“Blessed. I’m pretty sure you have many questions, which aren’t important, because we need to figger out why you threw me out?”

“I told you, I didn’t–”

“Doll, I’m not stupid. I saw you put me in there, now don’t bullshit me.”

The skin on your palm and cheek had been itchy to the point you wanted to scratch your palm and face simultaneously, resulting in you rubbing your knuckles on your face. But you didn’t even want to answer Joel—your childhood toy. Hurting your friend's feelings was something you never wanted to do; imagine how Joel would feel knowing the boy who had played with him since he was a kid didn’t want to take him to college with him.

But it was something that you had to say, something that you would dread telling anyone you love.

Deciding to rip the band-aid faster than slow, you take a breath, look at Joel’s once painted-on brown eyes, and see a soul behind his real-like eyes. “I didn’t want to take you to college with me, and giving you away seemed way too hard even to think about. So I threw you away.”

Joel looked shocked by your confession. He thought he was ready to hear what you had to say, but Joel wasn’t; he was more perplexed than anything. Moving from where he stood before you, he stumbles on the mattress and sits down to collect his thoughts. Joel’s head hangs as you sit down next to him. It was reminiscent of when you were younger and would watch movies in your living room, having Joel sit next to you while you imagined him laughing or getting mad at a character like you were.

For once, the silence in the room was deafening, and you didn’t like it; you didn’t know what Joel would say, which terrified you.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Joel nodded. “Yeah,” He snuffled. “Was just thinkin’ bout somethin’.”

“What was it?’

“Joel, when I’m older, I’m taking you everywhere with me, no matter what. You're going to be with me during college, and even when I get the big boy job like my daddy does, you’ll always be there.”

The action figure you played with your whole childhood quoted what you told him in those peak years of being a kid and had nothing to worry about.

“I said that, I'm guessing?”

Joel nods. “You were always a happy kid, no matter what happened, always smiling.” You chuckle at Joel’s statement. It made a smile appear as you remembered that he was always there with you. But, you had to face the fact that you weren't a kid anymore; those promises you made to a toy — a mere plaything- weren't something you thought about as a hormonal teenager. 

Shaking your head, you snap your head at Joel. “Joel, I was a kid back then. I didn't know that growing up would be so different than what I thought.”

“I- I can't be that same kid again. I wish I could trust me, I wish I could, but I can't.”

“It’s a shame,” Joel starts. “I would’ve loved t’see you grow up.”

“I mean, you technically did, right?”

Joel chuckles, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” 

The cicadas appeared to disrupt the silence in the room when you didn't know what to say to Joel. You hated breaking your best friend’s heart, but being honest was something Joel wanted other than being lied to. “Do you want a hug?” 

“I would love that,” Joel’s southern drawl appeared as you wrapped your arms around Joel, and his arms wrapped you around in a bear hug. 

Hugging Joel felt weird but right – a seemingly impossible wish you fulfilled. You begged to be able to hug Joel, have him hold you in his arms, and melt together, being safe in each other’s arms. “M’gonna miss ya when you’re gone,” Joel grumbles against your head. As you hugged Joel, questions began to swim in your mind as you squeezed his waist; it felt like you were hugging an actual human. The way his body resisted against the tight hold on him, his body felt warm against yours. 

“Okay, wait a second,” you announce, releasing yourself from Joel’s grip and standing before him.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks, resting one hand on his knee and his forearm on the other knee. You watch at the skin around his wrist, and the watch starts to bend as if he were human.

Questions were floating in your head; you didn’t know where to start, but you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak. “How did this happen? How are you walking like this?” 

“I’ve always done it, just done it when everyone isn’t home.”

Perplexity rode your face as Joel’s answer made you think about more questions you wanted to spit out. “So, you’ve always been able to walk around and be so human-like?”

“Yeppers.”

“So, you heard everything?”

Joel nods.

“Everything?” 

“If you’re referring to the times I’ve heard and seen you jerk off and get fucked in here, then yes, everything,” Joel mocked. 

Heat rose to your face. Joel had seen everything, the most vulnerable parts of your body. Things that you wouldn’t admit to if your family asked about it.  “Even when–” 

“Not when you were a kid, I’gave you your privacy. Scout’s honor.”

“But, you’re not a scout but a lumberjack.” 

Joel shrugs. “You’re point?”

“My point is–” You exhale a breath as a hand slides down your face. “If ya wonderin’ of anythin’ sex-related–” Joel interjected.

One question swam around your mind in that topic Joel mentioned. “Can you fuck?” You question, crossing your arms. Joel’s chuckle sent chills picking at your “tough-guy” demeanor. That nervous feeling rose, making you worried about his answer. “If I tell you the truth, will you mind?”

Reflexically shaking your head, you waited for Joel’s answer. “Yes, doll. I can.” Without thinking, you asked Joel. “How?” Joel answered by pointing at you. “You’ve done some pretty interesting things, doll.” 

Moving your head as you eye roll at the “man” before you. “I’m scared to ask, but–”

“You’re interested if I had fucked anythin’?” 

“Honestly? Yeah.” You don’t know how to feel about Joel’s confession. On the one hand, you were intrigued by what Joel had done; on the other hand, it made you feel like you were stepping into a zone you weren’t comfortable with entering. “Wow, my old toy, fucking other toys? I’m guessing.” 

Joel chuckles. “Y’know your sister’s Barbie doll? Fucked her, Ken watched.”

A grimace appeared on your face as Joel's sudden statement made you feel like the cold rushed in from your bedroom. “Wow,” you started. “Wait, Barbie and Ken can become real, like you?” Joel nodded at your answer.

“Huh, well. You learn something new every day.” 

“Blame yourself, doll. I learned everything from you.”

Confusion rode your face, trying to act innocent like you had no reason behind Joel’s actions. “What do you mean?” You shrug.

Joel stands up, his hands draped by the stitched pockets of his jeans, his boots slowly connecting with the hardwood floors, causing you to walk backward at your leisurely pace. You and Joel were working in tandem—with each step he took, you took a step back. You felt slightly intimidated. In the back of your head, you never thought you would feel unnerved by a toy—a toy you never would’ve expected to come to life. 

That rush of cold flew through your back when you connected with the side of your closet, bringing your hands to the wall; that cold sensation connected with your hand. Joel’s looming figure had been present before you, his hand outstretched beside your head. Joel slowly moves his head toward your head; you feel his warm breath against you, causing your spine to chill — mentally blaming the wall. 

“C’mon, doll. You know exactly what I mean.” Joel’s voice made your breath hitch as you felt his mustache tickle against your neck. “I know what you want, your likes, know what you like to be called,” You feel Joel’s realistic fingers on your chin as he picks your head up to look into his eyes; you watch as he backs up from your ear. 

His soft but calloused hand was on your chin, slowly dragging his hand against the fabric of your shirt as you watched the wrinkles in your shirt flatten under the path his hand was sliding down your torso. You watched as the wrinkles disappeared, only to reaper after Joel’s hand moved from its position. Joel’s hand was slow but not too slow, like a snail’s pace, slow to the point where you felt each goosebump underneath his hand — under your shirt.

Joel’s hand had stopped on your waist, while his other hand was above your head as he leaned closer to your eyes. Bracing for the impact of Joel’s lips on yours, you close your eyes. 

The feeling of plump, soft lips against yours sent shivers traveling down your spine as you felt the grip on your waist was getting tighter — rougher. Your hands travel from the wall into Joel’s soft curls. You wanted Joel in the moment; you craved him — yearned for him. Memories of you dreaming of kissing Joel had finally come true; you didn't expect the kiss to feel so passionate, an end-of-the-world kiss — one that stopped the world from spinning.

The feeling of silk had flown through your fingers as you contorted your hands with Joel’s hair. Joel’s hands slid from your waist onto your ass — squeezing lightly, you gasped against his lips. 

Your heart skipping a beat seemed impossible, but Joel’s kisses begged to differ. Your hands slipped from Joel’s hair onto his face, and you felt his defined jawline and patchy beard; you felt soft but coarse underneath your palms, which was something you couldn’t imagine. Reminiscent of when your fingertips would travel against the painted beard, always wondering what it looked/felt like, at this moment, you can. 

Joel’s big hands leave an imprint on your ass; slowly, his hands start sliding down toward your inner thigh, bending his back closer to you so the connection of your lips doesn't break. “Jump,” Joel grumbles against your lips. You push your feet off the ground as Joel’s strength lifts you, chuckling against his lips, wrapping your legs around Joel’s waist; you feel his hands under your thighs, gripping into you with passion; you think his nails may leave crescent moons into your skin. 

Cold drywall leaves your back as Joel slowly turns you both around so your bed can face your back. With each step, your and Joel’s noses keep bumping into each other as your faces keep moving side to side from your passionate kiss. Joel’s mouth leaves yours as his lips trail down your jawline, lightly sucking. Your hands return to Joel's hair as his lips end on your neck.  

Lips on your neck, sucking, biting, Joel marking you with his lips, your moans kept escaping your lips as your fingers flowed through Joel’s hair like water. “Y’like that, baby?” Joel growled. You hiss through your teeth before answering. “Fuck, yes. I love it, Joel.”

Quickly turning his body, Joel sits on the edge of your bed. Your knees indent your mattress as you feel sitting down. His lips return to yours as Joel wraps his arms against the midsection of your back, melting your bodies together. Your hands make their way from Joel’s head onto his broad shoulders. Thinking the flannel was warming his skin, you wanted to get rid of it. 

Backing slightly away, you slip your hands down his hardened chest; you start to fumble with the first button. Quickly unbuttoning the first one, you were on your way to the next one; Joel took notice of your hands and broke the kiss to look at what you were doing. “What are ya doing, doll?”

“Trying to get this flannel off you,” You grumble, popping the second button off. 

“Lemme help.” 

Joel moves his arms from your waist onto his flannel, smiling at you as you watch him pop the buttons out the loops. You watch as your childhood crush takes off his flannel and throws it over your shoulder, chest hair littering his chest. You slowly bring your hand onto his chest—above where his heart should be — but you don't feel a bump vibrate against your hand. You remember that Joel isn't human, which somewhat shatters your heart. 

Joel notices your saddened eyes; he places his hand over yours and looks deep into your eyes, his brown eyes piercing into your soul. “J’so ya know, I may not have a heart, but my love f’you is more important than anything else in this goddamn world. You're one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“I don't want to live in a world where I don't see your smile every day; it's a reminder t’myself that no matter what, my love for you is the most real thing for me.”

You smirk at Joel’s confession, quickly smashing your lips against his. The tears brimming your tear ducts, trickling down from your eyes, wiping your eyes as you back up and look at Joel. “You are such a softie, you know that?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Joel quickly pushed his lips against yours, wrapping his arms around your midsection and moving your arms around his neck. 

Feeling Joel’s smile against your lips, you're quickly surprised when you feel Joel stand up and, in one motion, spin you both around so your back is on your mattress. You can’t help but smile gleefully as he backs up from you — sliding your shirt up and planting kisses trailing from your chest to your navel. His thick fingers grab the waistband of your pants as he slides them down. “Lift your hips, doll.” You do as Joel commands; he slides your pants off your thighs and throws them in the corner where your hamper used to reside, leaving your underwear on, your cock hard and covered by your underwear. 

“Look a’that, y’hard f’me already, doll?” You chuckle at Joel; you gasp as you feel his lips press the tip of your hard-covered cock. With each kiss brought against the tip and the shaft of your cock, it feels like heaven to you, bringing you absolute bliss against your skin. You get your foot against Joel’s shoulder as your other one hangs off the edge of the bed, arching your back in pleasure as Joel’s mouth moves down your thigh. 

Joel looks up at you and smiles as he kisses your leg. Noticing the wet spot appears on your underwear. Pre-cum slowly escaping the slit of your cock. “Let’s get these underwear off you.” You didn't need Joel to tell you to lift your hips reflectively. You lifted your pelvis, and he slid the underwear off you. Your hard throbbing cock slaps against your navel, a line of pre-cum connects with your stomach. “God, you’re s’fuckin’ perfect, baby.” 

Standing up from his position, he softly presses his lips against yours, bringing his hand into the bend of your knee, his other hand holding the side of your face. Joel’s tongue licked your bottom lip, awaiting your mouth to open. Slightly parting your lips, Joel slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to smile at Joel’s eagerness. 

“How do you feel?” Joel questions against your lips.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic.” You answer, bearing your teeth. “How about I make you feel even fuckin’ better.” Joel’s question came out as a statement, causing you to question his meaning. Without warning, Joel backs up from your face and laps his tongue on the shaft of your cock, making a moan escape from your mouth, sliding his tongue slowly up the head of your cock, moans escaping your mouth. “F-fuck, Joel,” You breathe. 

“Y’like that, baby?” 

You breathe out an answer as Joel starts playing the slit of your cock with his tongue. “Yes.” 

“Makin’ sure that you deserve somethin’. You’re too precious to be mistreated.”

Joel must've heard all the times you would complain to your best friend about how one guy seemed great but lacked something when it came to sex. Joel was showing what you’ve been craving for a guy to reciprocate when you pleasured them, but he wasn't expecting anything back; he was just glad to pleasure his boy first. 

Wrapping his mouth slowly around the tip of your cock, Joel slowly goes down the shaft of your length, causing you to moan and white knuckle your sheets as you throw your head back — arching your back and snapping your eyes shut in pleasure. 

His pace was slow but patient. Joel wanted to make you feel something you rarely experienced — over the moon. Wrapping his hands around the shaft of your cock, his fingers would let go for a moment before wrapping.

Dragging your fingers into Joel’s curls, you slowly push his head down, hoping he could speed up. “Fuck, Joel. Can you go faster, please?”

“I can do ya one better, doll.”

As Joel’s mouth felt warm around your cock, he started to go faster as you gasped in pleasure; you felt Joel’s hand slide from your thigh as he slowly began to tease your hole. The skin of your taint felt sensitive with each stroke of Joel’s finger teasing you; each swipe, each light prodding made your body shiver in anticipation. Your cock has never been in overdrive as much as this — Joel was slowly rising you towards your peak. Your cock twitches in Joel’s mouth showing the throbbing pain that was threatening to shoot out. 

Slowly and agonizing, Joel slides his mouth off your cock, swallowing his spit; Joel wipes the reminder off his lips with the back of his hand, glances at you, and chuckles as Joel strokes your cock. “Y’close, doll?”

“Yes,” You whimper. “So fuckin’ close. It hurts so much. Can I cum yet, Joel?”

A chuckle left his throat, a sly smirk appearing on his face as he stared at you. Joel stops pumping your cock — landing on your stomach, precum leaking from the slit. “Not yet, doll. We haven't had our fun yet.”

Lifting your legs, Joel slides his head down deeper in between your thighs. He laps his tongue against your aching hole; a shaky moan escapes your lips as you hold your legs up so Joel can get better access to your hole. His hands are planted on your inner thighs as he keeps his tongue against your taint. 

Joel’s tongue felt like magic against you, showing you things you’ve never felt before — things you’ve only imagined happening. His tongue sliding up and down, in and out of your hole, made you want to cum by how much Joel was treating you. 

His plump lips planting kisses against your taint made your toes curl — the bones could pop out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs, your moans escaping from you with each movement of Joel’s lips and tongue was giving you pleasure. 

That sensation of something feeling pushed inside you came rushing in as you let go of one of your thighs, gripped the sheets below you, and threatened to rip them up. You look down at Joel, looking up at you with a smirk on his face; you notice what is being pushed inside you; Joel’s thick middle finger has taken a turn to please you. 

“Y’like that, don’t you, baby?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, throwing your head back, closing your eyes, and biting your lip. 

“I told ya, I know what you like, basically what you’ve been yearnin’ for.” 

“But, you gotta let me know if it’s too much for you, baby. I can't read minds yet.”

“It’s it too much?” Joel questioned.

You shake your head to deny Joel’s question. “It’s just right, it’s so fuckin’ right,” You grit your teeth. 

Sliding another finger in, Joel’s pace had gone faster. You knew Joel was trying to test your limit; you never knew your limit; you were glad to try to figure it out with someone you trusted. 

“Look at that; your hole wraps around m’fingers; it keeps sucking me in no matter how hard I try to pull out.”

Sudden movements from your hips as you kept raising your hips and bringing them back down. Gritting your teeth, tiny whimpers left through your teeth. Pleasure flowed through your entire body — a new goal you never knew you could reach.

Joel would never admit this, but him being the reason whimpers were leaving your mouth, you squirming because of his fingers and mouth, he was fucking over the moon to be the first person ever to make you feel this way. 

“J-Joel?” You breathed.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I please suck your cock?” 

Joel was conflicted by your question; all he wanted to do was make you feel good, he wasn’t expecting anything in return, but he wanted to know what that perfect mouth of yours felt around his cock. 

Slipping his fingers outside your hole, aching for more, Joel smirks at you and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, you can, doll.” As you sit up, you notice the length that resided in his jeans; your eyes almost pop from their sockets from what you have just seen. You’d never seen anything that big in porn, yes, but never in real life. 

Noticing your astonishment, Joel looked at his jeans and then back up at you. “Is this size good enough, sweetheart?” You nod your head. Sliding your back against the mattress, you slid so your knees hit the wood below you. Watching the eagerness flood Joel’s eyes made you feel that excitement swimming in your stomach. The button of his jeans popped above you, and hearing the zipper going down, you watched as Joel’s cock popped out from its restraints.

Joel’s throbbing cock bounced in front of you, precum leaking from the slit of Joel’s cock. In your eyes, Joel’s cock looked more realistic than plastic. You wouldn’t lie; you were a curious kid; you had removed Joel’s clothes before and only noticed a blob on where his dick was now. The veins traveled up the shaft of his cock, stopping at the mushroom tip of his cock. The happy trail from Joel’s tummy showed up his pubic hair that rested above the shaft of his cock. Your mouth went dry in anticipation. It was the first you had seen a dick this big and thick before and so close to your face. 

“You alright, doll?”

Shooting your eyes up at Joel, you can tell a bit of worry on his face. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Just never seen a dick this big before,” You admitted. Bending down so his face is in front of you, softly placing his hand against your cheek in reassurance. “We can take it slow if you want to.” You nodded at Joel’s words as he planted his lips against your forehead and stood straight. Dragging Joel’s jeans down as your knuckles brushed up against the hair on Joel’s thighs, gravity stopping Joel’s jeans when they stop at his ankles, your hand wraps the shaft of his cock. You slowly wrap your lips around the tip of Joel’s cock, and you hear him exhale in pleasure. 

Slowly pushing your head down the shaft of Joel’s cock, lips wrapped tight, you feel the veins trace the skin of your lips as the head of Joel’s cock press into the back of your throat. A groan of pleasure escapes Joel’s lips as you back your head up. You push your head forward and back leisurely, and you can tell the pace makes Joel go crazy. His member in your mouth kept throbbing against the roof of your mouth. Suddenly, your pace went a little faster; you looked up and noticed Joel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands were in tight fists, his knuckles threatening to pop out from his hand. The taste of salt fell upon your tongue as you backed your head up from Joel’s cock. A line of spit mixed with precum connecting from your mouth to the tip of Joel’s cock was made apparent, eventually dropping onto the ground below you as you wrapped your hand around Joel’s cock and started pumping his shaft.

The moans escaping Joel’s lips were music to your ears as your moans were to Joel. “Fuck, baby. Y’so good at that. Those boys are so fuckin’ stupid.” His southern drawl causes summersaults in your stomach. Sliding your mouth back onto Joel’s cock, a deep moan escapes his lips as your lips were at a quick pace, your hands planted on Joel’s thighs, the hair on his thighs pressed up against your hand as the tip of Joel’s cock kept hitting the back of your throat.

Moans, grunts, whines, and whimpers were all escaping from Joel’s lips, his hands holding onto your head as his hips humped into your head, his cock pressing deeper – causing you to gag a couple of times. Your nose kept poking into where Joel’s pubic hair rested; the scent was intoxicating, causing your cock to leak with precum below you. 

Suddenly, Joel held your head – your throat grasping around his cock, causing you to gag more. Slobber escaping your mouth as with each inhale through your nose – resting on Joel’s hairy patch made it impossible to exhale without gagging. Your palms were getting sweaty against Joel’s meaty thighs, the hair on his legs feeling nonexistent against your slippery hands.

His hands slide your head back, and lines of spit connect from his cock to your top and bottom lips. Deep inhales and exhales leave your body as you watch Joel slightly shudder. His cock glistened in your spit, throbbing. Sweat littered Joel’s hairy chest and forehead; you swallowed the spit in the back of your throat from your excessive breathing. Your forehead felt heavy with sweat as you looked up at Joel; he slid his hand up his forehead, pushing the curls that had stuck to his forehead. “Fuck, sorry, baby. Y’mouth is so fuckin’ addictin’.” 

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, Joel,” You spoke, disregarding his apology. Quickly eager to show Joel what you meant, you pick up his cock and slide your tongue on the underside of Joel’s shaft. Lapping your tongue against his veins, you could hear Joel praise you from above. “So fuckin’ perfect, who wouldn’t want to treat you right?”

Bringing your tongue slowly down to make Joel squirm, you feel his body Joel a little bit as you are still holding his cock in your hand; you place your mouth around his ball sack and lightly suck on one of them. “OH, FUCK!” Joel groaned. Joel’s body felt like jelly – incapable of holding himself up; Joel hadn’t felt this level of pleasure before, from anything he’s ever fucked before. “You like that, baby?” You asked. “Yes,” Joel gritted his teeth. “God, I love it s’much.” Backing your mouth up, you stroke Joel’s cock and watch Joel hold his head back and moans escaping his lips. Bending down, Joel places his hands between the fold of your armpits and picks you up from your knees. 

Planting his lips against yours, the kiss you shared between the two of you felt hungry, Lips mashing against each other, teeth clashing against each other. Joel’s arms holding you tightly against his torso. Joel was fucking starving for you as his lips were latching against your cheeks, jawline, against the skin of your neck. That feeling of Joel’s teeth against your neck made you know Joel was marking you as his. Your nails drag against Joel’s soft curls as you enjoy Joel’s mouth, bringing his head up back against your lips. Sweat from Joel’s chest was seeping through your shirt. You wanted to take it off to feel Joel’s skin against yours. Backing your head away from Joel’s, his head following suit as he watches you attempt to take your shirt off.

Holding the hem of your shirt, Joel helps you slide your shirt off your head, wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck, him wrapping his arms against your lower back. The warmth of each other’s bodies radiated against each other. Your cocks rubbed against each other; the warmth you both shared was hot enough to blow the roof off your bedroom. This experience felt surreal, like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. 

Backing his head away from your lips, you notice a look of dominance in Joel’s eyes, which darken as he opens his mouth to speak. “Get on that bed, so I can fuck you the way you, a good boy like you should be fucked.”

“But, what if I’ve been a bad boy?” You tease. 

Leaning his head toward your ear. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”

“Get on that fuckin’ bed,” Joel commanded. You listened to Joel, letting your arms go from around his neck, your knees bent on the bed, as you pushed yourself to land your head where your pillow rested, your back collided with the soft cloud-like material. You watched Joel climb on the bed, stopping as he was positioned right between your legs. “Put your leg on my shoulder.”

Compiling to what Joel commanded, your ankle rested on Joel’s broad shoulder. A line of spit leaves Joel’s mouth and connects to the tip of his cock, rubbing the spit to lube up his cock. Slowly leaning over you, one next to your head, fingers spread apart. Joel moves his hand from the tip to his shaft as he starts to tease you – making you shudder in anticipation. 

Moving his cock to poke your hole makes you yearn for him every slight push into you. Hisses escaped your gritted teeth as you craved to feel good. “Joel, can you please fuck me?”

“Nuh uh, bad boys don’t get to beg,” Joel grinned.

Joel had let go of his length and placed his other hand next to the other side of your head. His hips were grinding into you, making you gasp and make your spine chill. Joel’s cock kept rubbing up against your sensitive tip, making you physically shudder and making your cock feel like it was about to burst. “I can tell how much you love this. M’cock grinding up against yours before I get you pregnant.” Your breath hitched as Joel’s voice made you want him more – you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before. 

“Joel, please. I need you.”

“How bad do you need me, sweetheart?” Joel growled into your ear. 

“So fuckin’ much, it's unbearable.”

“Well then, are you going to be my good boy?’

Nodding your head, you shut your eyes and licked your lips in anticipation. You notice that your ankle comes off Joel’s shoulder and collides with the mattress. You feel his lips press against yours briefly as you open your eyes and see Joel’s brown orbs looking into yours before he opens his mouth to speak. “Well, I can’t keep my good boy waitin’.” Looking in between your bodies, Joel adjusts his cock; you feel it press into you for a split second. He looks back up to you, “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I am,” You answer. 

Joel slowly pushes in, and you feel the tip agonizingly stretch you out. Your moans rattle the walls next to you both. “Does it hurt, baby?” You shake your head, denying Joel’s question. His shaft is halfway in before he pulls out fast. You gasp before breathing heavily. “Damn, baby. Y’so fuckin’ tight,” Joel commented. Once again, Joel slides his cock into you, making your moans more intense than before. Halfway in, Joel rocks his hips back and forth slowly into you. Your eyes snapped shut intensely, straining your eyelids. The pain was starting to feel good, too good.

“Is this okay, baby?”

Opening your eyes, you notice the concern in Joel’s eyes. He looked so sweet, caring, and compassionate; you’ve always seen him like that growing up. “Yes, Joel. It’s okay,” You smile. Leaning down to kiss you, Joel’s hips still rocking into your hole, moans exiting your mouth and entering Joel’s. Feeling Joel slowly stretch you out felt indescribable; it felt good, but you did want Joel to go faster. “Joel,” You moan against Joel’s mouth. “Yes, baby?” 

Joel backs up to hear you properly. Before you could get a word out to Joel, one push further in, and you feel the base of Joel’s cock clap into you, which echoes throughout the room. Joel realizes what this means; a sly grin appears on Joel’s lips. “Hold that thought, doll,” Joel commanded.

His pace was faster and rougher. Claps rang throughout the room with each thrust, like an audience applauding at the end of a play. Your hands gripped the sheets or ran your hand down Joel’s back while Joel had his hand on the headboard. It felt like Joel had read your mind at that moment, knowing that you wanted more and that he would give it to you. “I can tell y’wanted this before you even said it, baby. Could hear ya screamin’ at me to fuck you harder.’

“Y’wanted this, didn’t ya?” Joel grunted. 

“God, yes, Joel. I’ve wanted something like this for so long, begging for it. This feels fucking amazing.”

“I’can say the same about this boy pussy of yours, grippin’ onto me so tight, it doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t think I want it to.” You bring your hands up to Joel’s back and dig your nails into his sleek skin; an exhale leaves Joel’s mouth as the pain settles in, but it subsides. 

“Mark me, baby. Make me yours.” 

Your nails drag down Joel’s back until you reach the small of Joel’s back. Joel bows his head, grabs your chin, and smashes his lips against yours, but his thrusts stop. You don’t feel anything warm inside you, so you know he didn’t cum. Wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel lifts you for a second so you can get up from the sheets below you. Noticing Joel starts to lay himself down, you quickly move your hands on the mattress to keep yourself from crashing into Joel. You still feel Joel’s cock inside you as his hips start to lift up and down. 

That time when you complained about only being in one position with a guy, Joel did hear you and was giving you something you wanted. 

“Sorry for the sudden stop, wanted to fuck you more.”

Backing your head up, you watched as Joel bore his teeth and started to fuck you senselessly. Wrapping his arms tight around your lower back. Your nails dug into the soft material under your sweaty palms; you could feel the fibers begin to tear a bit. “You like this, don’t ya, baby? Being fucked like the sluts I’ve seen you watch on your phone.”

“Craving to be them, wanting someone to fuck you till you can’t feel your legs no more, huh?”

“Yes.” You whined. 

“Wantin’ someone as strong and big as those guys you watch to be able to fill your sweet, tight, boy pussy with hot cum.”

Nodding your head. “Mhmm.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m gonna satisfy your needs, your aches, your cravings for you to be filled with cum. If anyone else tries. I’ll gladly show them who can treat you better and fuck you in front of them, understood, baby.”

“Mhmm.” 

Joel’s hand connects with your ass, a hard smack against it; a cry leaves your mouth. “I need a fuckin’ yes, boy.”

“Yes, Joel, yes.” You whined.

You felt something move from inside you. You see, Joel looks to wear your cock, but he’s looking in between you both. “You feel my cock twitchin’ inside you, doll? You want me to cum inside you?”  “Yes,” You quickly answer and nod. “You’re leakin’ all over my stomach, baby; you wanna cum too?” 

You whimper out an answer. “Then, I better give my boy what he wants.”

Joel slides his cock out of you and lays you on your stomach as he comes up from behind you and slowly teases you. You feel his cock glide between the bends of your ass cheeks, feelings his balls press into them. “Damn, your ass is achin’ f’me right now. I will give you what you deserve, boy.” 

That feeling of being stretched out came back as you rested your forehead on the bed. Joel’s hands dug into your skin; each push of his length made your moans push out of you more. It was like your body was in heat — Joel’s heat. He was an animal in heat when it came to you. Nodding your head, you felt Joel’s hand on your throat and his lips against your ear — his mustache tickling it. “I’m so –thrust–  close to – cummin’ inside this tight ass of yours, baby. Do you want my cum to swim inside you?”

“Yes, Joel. I fuckin’ do.” 

“Then let me give you what you deserve.” Backing his head up, Joel dug into your skin like he was kneading dough; his thrusts were rough, almost splitting you in half. You could feel his cock throb inside you as you felt your shaft pulsating. You knew you were about to cum. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you, baby. I don’t wanna stop after I cum in you.” “Joel, I’m so close. Keep going.”

“Fuck,” Joel growled. “I love it when you beg like that.”

His pace was going faster, and it felt the tip of your cock felt like it was going to explode with your cum. “Fuck, Joel. I’m gonna cum.” 

“Fuck, baby. Me too.’

“Here it comes,” Joel gritted his teeth. 

With one final push, you feel your cum shoot out onto the sheets below you, and you also feel Joel’s cum swim inside you. Light breaths are escaping both of you as you feel Joel slide his cock out of you; a squelching sound is heard as Joel’s cock finally dislodges from your hole. A sigh of relief exits Joel’s mouth as he connects his back to the bed. Turning your neck, you see Joel — soft cock against his stomach as you see his chest dip and rise from the breaths he’s taking.

Picking yourself up from your position, you lay down next to Joel, your head resting on his sweaty, hairy chest. Joel’s arm wraps around you as he pulls you closer to him. 

“So, was that everything you’ve ever wanted?” Joel questioned. 

Nodding your head against his chest. “Yeah, and better than what I could imagine.”

Joel chuckles at your statement, and you join him. Once the laughter dies down, a realization hits him like a bag of bricks. “Y’know, for a moment, I forgot that you’re running off to college without me. Followin’ those dreams and gettin’ your degree.”

“Joel,” You start.

“Havin’ a life, a career, findin’ someone who will love you as much as I do.”

“Joel,” You repeat. 

“Havin’ kids of your own, playin’ with their own action figures or dolls, and I’ll be at the bottom of some —”

“JOEL.” 

Joel jumped at your sudden outburst; he was looking at you instead of the ceiling. He saw you staring at him; he felt frightened but safe simultaneously. You suddenly straddle his lap, his hands on your waist, molding his hands onto you. “You’re coming with me to college.” 

“W-what?” Joel smiled. “When did you come to that decision?” 

“When you gave the most beautiful profession of love when I was on your lap, it made me realize something.” Joel awaited your realization, but he couldn’t lie; you sitting naked on his lap like that, faces inches away from each other, he was starting to get horny again. “I know you can never be real, but that’s okay; it sucks that we won’t grow old together, but you’ll always be there for me, and if I do meet someone, you’ll always be the first person I’ve ever loved, Joel.”

A smile appeared on Joel’s face; you couldn’t tell if sweat or a tear was falling from Joel’s eye when he quickly rolled you on your back and was inches away from you. His smell was intoxicating; the sweat mixed with lust made your cock twitch like crazy. “You’re such a softie, y’know that?” Joel quoted. 

“Only for you, sweetheart,” You quoted. 

“Now, how do you feel about one more round?” Joel questioned. 

“Well, everyone will be out for a while.”

“Should I take my time?”

“Joel, fuckin’ show me a good time.” 

“Okay, my good boy, lemme show you a good time,” Joel states, kissing your lips. Feeling the love from Joel’s kisses, you realize you didn’t need anyone to love you as much as Joel did, and you were fine with that. You didn’t care that he wasn’t real; he felt he was real to you, and that’s all you need.