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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 months ago

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On The Run

Pairing: Fugitive!Bucky Barnes x Fugitive!Reader Summary: Inspired by I Know Places, Getaway Car, and Cowboy Like Me

"You were prettier back then," a familiar voice suddenly says from beside Bucky.

His shoulders stiffen momentarily, pulling his eyes away from his own little exhibit only to see the top of your baseball cap pulled low on your head. His jaw clenches, metal fist tightening as he remains unsure if you've come as friend or foe. Foe, he's almost entirely certain. "Who sent you?"

You playfully scoff. "I don't take orders anymore. You know that."

"What do you want?"

You wryly chuckle, your nonchalance taunting, irking, Bucky. "What makes you think I want anything?"

Now, it's his turn to scoff. Coincidences like this don't just happen. He knows this well. "You just happened to be here?"

You languidly shrug. And he's not sure if you know how bad you're pissing him off or if you're really just trying not to call attention to yourself. "You've pissed off a lot of people. We're supposed to be laying low," you cheekily remind him.

"What I do has nothing to do with you," he curtly murmurs, though he knows that's not entirely true.

He leisurely begins walking away, slow, without purpose to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Without hesitation or fear, you reach out and clutch his vibranium arm. What bothers him even more is that your hold actually roots him in place. Your hold still on his arm, you hiss under your breath, "Hey, things start going to shit for you, they start going to shit for me too."

His jaw clenches tightly. "I know."

"I know a place," you offer.

"Use it for yourself," Bucky grimaces.

"You know, I don't have to be here. I don't have to help you," you point out.

"Your point?"

"Right now, take all the friends you can get," you say, dropping your hand from his arm. "People aren't exactly lining up to help you out."

Bucky's clenched jaw loosens, he's smart enough to know when the cards are stacked against him. And right now, he had a losing hand. "Fine."

"Don't sound so excited, Soldier."

He grunts, "Lead the way."

He spares one last glance at his exhibit before following you out the side exit. A life he'd lived, but long forgotten. All culminating in a life on the run. But he is. He is on the run, and he needs to focus on that.

So he follows you. Down a restricted hallway. To an emergency exit. Then, a steel door with a large painted 'emergency exit' sign on it. Though the door warns that an alarm will sound, not a single sound is made as you freely swing the door open and step out into the disgusting alleyway.

There's a car waiting there. You've already hopped in and he pretends not to notice that the car is almost certainly stolen.

In fact, he doesn't say anything.

He offers not a single nicety, not a murmur of small talk, he remains completely silent as you drive past city limits. He keeps his eyes trained out the road in front of you, the passing terrain becoming more unfamiliar with each passing hour.

On the small plane that you somehow managed to commandeer, he keeps one eye on you piloting the otherwise empty aircraft.

And still he says nothing.

After many hours of silent travel, it's nightfall when you pull up to the unassuming apartment building in a completely new country. You grab both duffle bags stowed in the backseat of yet another mysteriously commandeered car, and with your heads low, you make your way up the rusty metal staircase. He tries to pinpoint exactly where you are. He knows he should've asked and that he probably could still ask, but the silence now feels like some weird competition of who can hold out the longest.

The air is cold, the houses sparse and rundown, but the landscapes vast and breathtakingly beautiful.

He allows himself only the shortest of seconds to scan the area and to feel the fresh breeze on his face before he follows you.

His boots thump and echo against the metal steps, and he can hear the heavy metal door groan as you unlock the door. He makes it up the flight of stairs just in time to see you forcefully open the door with your shoulder as your battering ram.

With his only two impressions of his newest hideout being the stairs and the door you almost tore down to get in to this place, he steps into the apartment with very little expectations.

But in spite of the derelict nature of the building and door, the place inside isn't terrible. Especially not for a fugitive. It's relatively furnished, a bed and a couch in the small studio apartment. There's a small metal table in the small kitchen and another wooden one in front of the pull-out couch. There's running electricity and indoor plumbing. He knows that, for all intents and purposes, this was as good as he was going to get right now.

You chuck the two bags on the small wooden coffee table, Bucky following your lead and dumping his alongside yours.

"This place isn't terrible so let's try to make it stick, alright?" you rhetorically ask, speaking as though you hadn't spent the better part of 18 hours without a word between the two of you.

"Fine."

"Okay, listen up," you command, though there's still remnants of your playfully sarcastic tone. You start unpacking the first bag, holding up a manila envelope, "Paper file for the technologically inept."

The muscles in his jaw ticks because of course. Of course you weren't helping him for the sake of being a good samaritan, you needed him for something, a job, a mission, an assignment. Something. Still, through gritted teeth, he asks, "What is it?"

"It's everything I gathered. Everything I know," you say, sliding the file across the table to land right in front of Bucky. "I figured I shouldn't know more about you than you do."

He falters, the tension in his expression stuttering to a confused, furrowed look. He looks down at the file in front of him. He opens it and it's exactly what you said it was. He sees his name printed on the first page: James Buchanan Barnes. All of his basic information followed by pages and pages of forgotten memories. "You're just giving this to me?"

"My act of kindness for the day," you flippantly remark, continuing to unpack the bag. Bucky scoffs, his guard snapping right back up. He knows that there's more to it. More that you're omitting, more answers that you conceal in half-truths and roundabout answers. Before he can call you out, you continue, "Everything that you'll need should be in walking distance. Some cash that should last you a while. There's a burner in the bag if you need me. Try not to need me."

"You're not staying?" Bucky questions, putting the file to watch you pick up one of the two bags.

"Easier to lay low alone."

"What are you going to do?" he ask before he can think better.

"Don't worry about me. I know places," you quip, a mischievous grin on your face. He knows that you know exactly what you're doing. The emotional and mental whiplash gives him no opportunity to ask questions, to demand answers. Before he can collect himself and stop you, you're walking out of the apartment. Only to turn back around and with your signature lighthearted, wry sarcasm, you ask, "Is it insensitive for me to say, 'get your shit together'?"

Bucky wordlessly shrugs, unsure of what to do with himself, or how to accept the strange act of kindness.

You nod, offering him a kind smile. Before the door closes, you add, "Get your shit together, Soldier. It's not going to get easier."

Bucky nods once in understanding, "Thanks."

A Year Later...

His quiet, borderline normal life, lasted approximately a year.

A year before he saw the headline falsely accusing him.

A year before Steve stood in his apartment, begging him to let him bring Bucky in.

He ran from your place with only the black duffle bag you left him on his back.

And he's running. Running from everyone. From his friend from a lifetime ago. From the newly crowned King of Wakanda. From Tony Stark and SHIELD.

The little burner phone weighs heavily in his pocket. He contemplated calling you, but what were the chances that you'd show up for him again?

None, he decided.

He hadn't heard from you in a year. The phone probably didn't even work anymore.

His eyes frantically sweep the area around him. And to say it was bleak was an understatement.

He's surrounded, all his enemies closing in on him from every direction when the burner rings at what has to be the most inconvenient time in recorded history.

He's not even really sure why he answers. But he does, pressing the phone to his ear before his entire life collapses before him.

Over the sound of his heavy footsteps still running, he hears you chuckle, "Laying low really means nothing to you, does it?"

"A little busy," Bucky grunts, holding the phone in the crook of his neck.

"I can see that."

"Wha-"

"Look up. On the overpass." He looks up at the overpass almost directly above him, the sleek silver sports car that's revving its engine. "Unless you want to keep playing with your friends?"

He huffs, but as much as he hates to admit it, it's one hell of a life saver. He doesn't think, just does. He narrowly escapes Steve's grip, jumping on a large SHIELD SUV, then grabbing the railing to the overpass. As he vaults himself onto the road, shots ring out all around him.

You impatiently rev the engine again. And you do so with a cheeky grin, pissing Bucky off before he's even interacted with you.

He flings the door open and before he's even fully in the car, you take off. You zoom through the busy streets, expertly dodging civilian cars skidding to a halt, pedestrians gawking at the high speed car chase, Bucky's innumerable enemies all chasing the car. And through all this chaos, you seem completely unburdened, not at all worried that you'll be caught.

"Here," you order, offering no greeting before handing Bucky the handgun in your holster. "Make yourself useful. And put your seatbelt."

He scoffs at the seemingly ridiculous statement, but says nothing, wasting no time before throwing his seatbelt on and aiming the gun out the window at the cars now tailing you. The overwhelming sounds of the high speed chase thrum in Bucky's ears, as though he could feel the sirens in the beat of his heart.

He wants to credit himself and his excellent shooting skills as to how the two of you evaded all the cars the cars slowly but surely, but he can't. Not at all. The clip of the gun you gave him is empty before he knows it.

"There's more toys in the back," you instruct.

He turns so his torso is no longer leaning out of the car. He looks forward for a moment and sees the caution lights warning you that the very bridge you're about to drive on to will rise in the center, blockading any car from moving any further, flickering just a few meters in front of you.

Without pause, you drive onto the bridge anyway, toeing the gas to propel the car even faster.

"The bridge," he warns.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. That's how we're going to lose them," you cryptically remark, pumping the gas pedal again. "You have your seatbelt on, right?"

He ignores your question, bracing himself for whatever is about to happen. "You're not going to make it."

"I'll make it."

"You're not going to-"

There's no time to finish his words before the definitely stolen car is hauling up the rising ends of the bridge. His hand flies up to grip the passenger handle as you use the risen bridge as your ramp to freedom.

His stomach lurches as you breeze through the air. And the short moment that the car flies through the air feels like an eternity, the entire time Bucky thinks to himself that you're not going to make it. That SHIELD is going to fish you out of the water and you'll both be arrested.

Only for the tires to hideously squeal when you hit the pavement. The car violently rattles and the smell of burned rubber fills the car, but there isn't a moment to doubt whether the car will still work because you're still hauling it down the street.

"Told you I could make it," you breathlessly laugh, your knuckles white as you clutch the steering wheel.

"You're crazy," he exhales, though you can almost swear you hear a hint of a chuckle from him.

With only a helicopter desperately trying to maintain visual left on your tail, you swerve into a tunnel, losing everyone pursuing Bucky.

When he's certain you've lost everyone chasing him, he takes a deep breath, taking a moment to enjoy the light of freedom on his face before he's forced back into hiding. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Now what?" he reluctantly asks.

For all he knows, you're going to dump him and his duffle bag out on the side of the road before he gets the both of you caught.

"Now, we ditch the car. Then, I've got another place where you can lay low," you offer, much to Bucky's surprise.

This time he clearly hears the 'you'. You have a place for him. He shakes away his objection, focusing on the task at hand.

Even more surprisingly, you pull into a packed parking garage. The kind that you don't need a ticket to get in our out. Your baseball cap still pulled low on your head, you pull into a parking spot with cars parked on either side of you.

"Grab the bags," you instruct.

He nods, grabbing all three bags from the backseat. Then he watches as you scratch the VIN number on the dashboard, the model number from the side of the door, in one quick, sharp movement, you tear off the license plates, then wipe down everything that you or Bucky touched.

"Thorough," Bucky comments, slightly impressed by your attention to detail and how quickly you just stripped the car of anything that could be traced back to you.

"Thanks."

"And now we steal another car?"

"Steal. Borrow," you shrug. "Same difference."

"But we're stealing?" he asks, bothered by your nonchalant reaction to grand theft auto.

"Oh, definitely," you freely laugh.

Though it deeply bothers him, he says nothing.

Beggars can't be choosers, he tells himself.

And anyway, you're still helping him. Even if he doesn't have the faintest idea of why you're doing it.

You languidly search through the garage as though you're just shopping for a car and definitely not on the run. Just as he's about to demand that you move faster, you pull on the door of a small, unremarkable sedan. It doesn't look old, but it's not flashy - he has no clue why it caught your eye.

He figures that's probably the point. You unceremoniously pull at the door handle. And just like every other time, he swears that it's not going to work. That the car alarm will go off or at the very least the car will be locked and you'll be left looking for another car.

But to his surprise, and annoyance, the door opens without a problem. No alarms ring through the garage. There's no struggle or broken windows. It's that simple for you.

"Special toy," you cheekily explain, flashing Bucky the small device as you duck into the car.

He rolls his eyes but climbs into the passenger seat, dumping the three bags into the backseat again. He briefly wonders why you have two bags for yourself when he could've sworn that a year ago you only had one. He dismisses it, a lot can change in a year. But there's a pesky little thought in the back of his head that something isn't adding up. While he's trying to reason everything out, you drive off without another word.

"What did you even do?" you ask after a considerable time in silence, your tone too light and playful for Bucky to even consider it an accusation.

"Nothing," he swears.

"Well, what do they think you did?"

"Wait," he falters, unused to anyone giving him the benefit of the doubt anymore. And that you do so without hesitation, even more questions crop up in Bucky's head. "You believe me?"

"You've never given me a reason not to."

"The UN. They think it was me."

"Jesus," you exhale, shaking your head to tame the runaway thoughts.

"Why are you here?" he asks, his tone bordering on accusation again.

"Saw your face in the paper. Was passing through. Thought you'd like a getaway car."

He watches you for a moment, looking at your focused expression for any signs of insincerity. And though he can't quite reconcile the events that brought you here, he finds not a trace of deceit on your face, "Thanks."

It doesn't sit right with him. There's things that you're not saying. This endless rotary of places that you have that you're just offering up. Especially after he just blew the cover of one of your safe-houses.

And it bothers him even more how nonchalant you are about it all. You seem completely unaffected by the fact that everyone is looking for Bucky. And by helping him, they're looking for you too.

After crossing several borders and escaping the areas where he's most wanted, he feels only marginally better. He wants to go straight into hiding, to get to this place of yours and stick his head in the sand for the next six months until it all mostly dies down.

Even as the sun lowers on the horizon, he doesn't feel safe. He feels vulnerable out here in plain sight.

But you take him to a bar.

He shakes his head in disbelief because you actually take him to a bar.

A bar, of all places.

It sits on the very edge of a city that's a little too populated for Bucky's liking. He's on edge from the very moment you walk in.

While you walk in with your chin up and a wide, flirtatious grin that just begs to be looked at, his legs shake with unbridled anxiety, his jaw hasn't unclenched since you first picked him up, and his head pounds with millions of rampant worries.

And you look perfectly fine.

From when you order a round of drinks and a greasy burger for the two of you, you look completely and totally at ease.

You casually sip at your drink. Your eyes roam around the bar, slowly drinking in the entire scene before you. The patrons drunkenly boasting about their respective wealth and their ostentatious lifestyles. The bartender that flirts with you every time you approach for a fresh drink.

He remains in the booth, watching you make trip after trip to the bar. It's after your fourth trip that he grabs your wrist as you move to stand up again. "We should go."

You slide back in the booth with your empty glass still in hand and prop one of your feet up. "You need to relax. Have some food, drink a little. We're gonna be fine."

"I can't get drunk."

"Neither can I, but you don't see that stopping me," you chuckle, downing the rest of your Old-Fashioned.

"Can you take this seriously? We need to get out of here," he hisses, leaning as close to you as the table will allow him to.

"Fine," you groan. "But one more drink."

He huffs, but you still get up and slowly saunter to the bar. You leisurely flag down the bartender, tipping your glass toward him with a flirty smirk. He watches as you casually giggle and hang onto every word the man says as he prepares your drink.

"Thank you," you coo, your hand resting on the man's forearm as he hands you the drink.

You don't come back to the table this time.

You sip at your drink, slowly swirling the liquor with the small wooden skewer. Just as Bucky's about to stand up and haul you out of the bar, another blonde, greasy-haired man approaches. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw this guy with another girl. Presumably his date for the evening. Only moments ago, his date got up to use the bathroom, and here the man was shamelessly flirting with you.

You showed no signs of telling this man to leave you alone nor made any indication that his advances were unwelcome. No, you lean into him, laughing a little too hard at slurred jokes and brazen come-ons.

"What the hell is she doing?" Bucky mutters to himself.

You lean so far into the man that, for a moment, Bucky worries that you're going to fall off the bar stool. Just as he's sure that you're going to fall or kiss the guy, you playfully push the guy's shoulder away.

Bucky lets out a breath of relief, relief that he doesn't want to admit that he feels.

And just when he's confused as hell, he sees your left hand. The one sneaking into the man's obscenely expensive leather jacket and slyly stealing his wallet.

He scoffs in utter disbelief. He knows he can't really claim the moral high ground, but still he snatches up his jacket, slaps a twenty on the table and leaves in a huff. He doesn't look back to see if you're following him, but he can hear from the crunch on the gravel that tells him you are.

He's not even sure why he tried to leave the bar in the first place. He knows you have the keys and that you're the only one that knows the location of the safe-house. But God, that stunt pissed him off.

"So you're a thief now?" he accuses over his shoulder.

You gasp, mostly in a playful tone, "I resent that, I am not a thief! I prefer con artist. More classy."

He stands at the passenger door impatiently waiting for you to unlock the car. You're unhurried and take a moment to notice how even in the dead of night, even as he glares at you, his eyes are stunningly blue. "You just stole that guy's wallet!"

"I only steal from people who deserve it," you defend, finally unlocking the car.

"And what exactly did that guy do?"

"Besides trying to slip a little something in that girl's drink?" you rhetorically question, holding up the little packet of crushed up powder the guy had been itching to use all night, then examining the content's of the man's wallet. You look at the man's ID with a furrowed face. "His name is also Chad. You just know he's an asshole."

Bucky sighs deeply, opening the car door in a huff, "What happened to laying low?"

"He hasn't even noticed his wallet's gone," you dismiss, climbing into the driver's seat. "And he's wasted, he won't notice until tomorrow morning. He's been running a tab all night so he'll just think he left it here. And by then, we'll be long gone. It's not a big deal."

"And if you get caught?"

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. "I was trained in the Red Room, I think I can handle some lame trust fund baby."

"Don't pull that shit with me anymore."

You roll your eyes and start the car, "Et tu, Brutus."

In the silence, you think about the last year. The old men you swindled and conned that really believed you were the one. Each word you whispered in their ears, promising them that it could be love. Passing through town after town like a bandit, only to disappear like an elusive puff of smoke.

It hurt a little more than you wanted to acknowledge that Bucky judged you for the things you'd done. You thought that out of everyone, he might be one of the few people that could understand, a bandit just like you.

Though you began your drive at the very beginning of nightfall, the sun slowly creeps up on the horizon when you break the tense silence, "Well, I hesitate saying this since you're still in a pissy mood, but before we get any closer to the safe house, we're going to have to switch cars again."

"How far away are we?"

"Couple hundred miles out."

"And we need to switch now?" he grumbles.

"Yes. We switch now, make it look like we're going East when we're going West. Gets them off our trail for a while longer."

"Are you going to steal the car too?" Bucky snarkily mutters.

"Oh my God, you're still on this! Why do you even care?"

"Because it's wrong!" he chides.

"The way I see it, us traitors never win, so forgive me if I really don't give a shit."

"I'm not a thief."

"Whatever," you scoff. "And yes, we're paying for the car. In cash. No paper trail. No stolen cars that people are looking for."

This second part of the trip is even worse than the first. Even worse than the trip you made with him a year ago.

To fill the tempestuous, suffocating silence, you blast the radio. You don't care if Bucky's glaring holes at the side of your head in clear displeasure, you do it anyway. As he scoffs his way through a shady, back-alley car dealer with an even sleazier salesman, you smirk and pretend like you don't notice his terrible attitude.

You flirt your way through a incredible deal with even more incredibly forged documents. He takes a glance at them as you're going through all the motions and he swears they look like legitimate. The only difference between himself and the salesman is that he knows better.

And once you're settled in an even crappier, but much more legal, used car, you turn down the obnoxiously loud music because you see Bucky's eyelids drooping, the exhaustion etched in his features as the adrenaline from the days prior leave his system.

You watch as he fights the sleep that slowly over comes him, each sleepy droop of his heavy eyelids warded off by a sharp jolt of his head snapping upright as though he's been watching you the entire time. You know he's about to crash, he's fighting against days worth of travel and a draining life on the run. You know this exhaustion well.

And you turn the music off completely when he starts quietly snoring in the passenger seat. You steal a few glances at him as you drive through the open road. The age melts off of him when his eyebrows aren't furrowed at you, when the judgement isn't as clear as the day that passes you by on the open road, nor the scowl that seems to be specially reserved for you.

You drive the entire way, stopping only at gas stations where you fill the tank and grab some crappy gas-station junk food for the two of you.

It's entirely miserable and you yourself don't know why you're going this far out of your way to help someone who so clearly wants nothing to do with you, but there's a part of you that's glad you're going it anyway.

You're glad because you believe him. You believe that he's not a bad man. Not when he's the reason you escaped the clutches of the Red Room. You see a person who was put in circumstances just as unfortunate as your own.

And you remind yourself of that until the car screeches to a halt in front of another of your safe-houses.

"Home, sweet home," you sarcastically retort, dropping the bag on the couch as you both enter the safe-house. "For you, anyway."

You waste no time unzipping the bag to reveal its contents to get Bucky on his feet and partially sustain him until he has to move again.

Except this time, he sees the wad of cash, nicely bundled, sitting right on top of the bag's contents. He doesn't even know why it bothers him so much. You're right, he has no moral superiority here. He doesn't even really care about that sleaze-ball you robbed blind.

You're right, the guy will be fine.

It's you, he decides.

You're what's pissing him off. Not the days worth of travel he wears. Not the fact that he's a fugitive.

It's you.

Your aloofness.

Answers that are riddled with half-truths and heavily redacted plans. The fact that he can't pin you down. That he has no clue what you want from him nor why you're going this far out of your way to help him.

Loose lips sink ships. But so do loose cannons.

He knows it's you that's pissing him off and still, he looks up from the wad of cash in the bag back up to you with silent accusations in his eyes.

You shake your head at the man, feeling the considerable amounts of judgement as he stares you down. So you take the purposefully take the bait, "You should've seen the guy I stole that from."

"That's not funny," he sneers.

"Come on, Soldier. Lighten up," you tease, unafraid of the growing scowl and intense look deepening on his face.

"Don't call me that."

"Bucky?" you taunt, remembering the old nickname from his file.

"No."

"James?"

"Knock it off," he seethes.

"Lover?" you over-enunciate, dragging the word out to tantalize Bucky.

"Is everything a joke to you?" he snaps, pinning you against the wall with his forearm pressed against your collarbone.

"God, you'd think a year alone would've given time for that sense of humor to form," you chuckle.

"Why do you even care?" Bucky demands.

You try not to laugh at the ironic 180 this conversation just took, but you smother the laugh, instead offering the same excuse you gave him the first time you helped him, "I already told you. Things go to shit for you-"

After the twelve hour nap in the car, his brain is no longer muddled with exhaustion. Pieces of the puzzle are coming together and he doesn't like what he sees, not one bit. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not-"

This time, he doubles down, "You said you came because you saw my face in the paper, but then you asked me why they were after me. If you saw the paper, you already knew that."

In spite of the dangerous position you find yourself in, you wryly chuckle, "So you caught that. Very astute, I'm impressed."

"Who sent you?"

"I told you, I don't take orders anymore. Least of all from you."

"I don't buy it," Bucky sneers, putting just a little more weight into his hold. "Why are you helping me? What do you want?"

"Trust issues much?"

"Why?" he orders.

You finally begin pushing back against the weight of him. He doesn't stumble back, but does ease up on the amount of force he uses. "I don't need you. I don't want anything from you. You have nothing to offer me. Have you ever thought about that?"

"Then why?" he fumes.

You shrug, once again too blithely for Bucky's liking. "You helped me once. Maybe I just don't like owing people."

"Bullshit."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Do you ever just give a straight answer?"

"No."

His voice laced with desperate pleas, he softly whispers, "Why are you helping me?"

You take a breath, taking a moment to decide how you want to proceed. And the second you look up at his pleading eyes, your voice drops along with Bucky's. "Have you ever thought that maybe I just wanted to help you?"

"No."

"You want me to say it? I'll say it, I wanted to help you. You got me out, I didn't forget that."

"That explains the first time. And now?"

"Is everything an inquisition with you?" you quickly retort.

"Only when mysterious people show up out of nowhere and decide to help me without a good reason."

"I didn't say I didn't have a good reason," you whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He's not sure if this is just your training or if you're actually being honest with him, but against his better judgement, as the words leave your mouth, he believes you. "You're a good reason."

"You weren't in the area," Bucky concludes, finally removing the forearm that pins you against the wall.

"Not even a little bit," you reluctantly admit.

"What do you want from me?" he murmurs, leaning so close to you that his breath becomes your own.

"Nothing," you exhale.

"You sure about that?"

You look at him dead in the eye and nod ever so slightly, "Yes."

"Stay," he mutters in your ear, his words a confusing blend of a desperate question and a intense order.

Though he's no longer holding you in place, you remain rooted in place under the blue eyes that glimmer as though they were filled with stars. You shakily nod, "Okay."

"Good."

You clear your throat, tearing finally freeing yourself from his gaze, "We should get some food. Scope the area out."

"Alright."

It's been a while since you've been here. It's one of your favorite safe houses, somewhere tucked in a small yet beautiful Romanian city. Though you haven't returned to Bucharest in years, you still remember all your favorite little spots.

It's also one of the only places that only you know about. You've never told anyone about this place, it's cover has never been blown. It's the perfect place for the two of you to hide.

Bucky's hand almost jolts when you reach out for his as you walk through the town square to a small little restaurant, before you even explain the cover, he relaxes and intertwines his fingers with yours.

Still hand-in-hand, you two duck into the small diner.

It isn't long before you're both seated in a booth, tucked into the very corner of the restaurant with two plates of food in front of you and Bucky. And though it's easy for you to pretend that this is your own little corner of the world, isolated from the dangerous, dark clouds always looming on the horizon, it's clear that it's not that easy for Bucky.

His shoulders remain rigid. Head lowered. His face set in what seems like a permanent scowl carved onto his face.

He's practically inhaled his food, while you pick at your plate, enjoying your first real meal in days. He quietly whispers, "We should get back."

"Will you relax? We're safe here."

"And if we're not?" he quickly retorts.

"Do you trust me?"

Though the inexplicable 'yes' is already on his lips, he pauses for a moment, if only to allow rationale and reason to finally step in. It doesn't. "Yes."

There's a strange sense of pride that swells in your heart that he admits that he trusts you. From your years on the run, trust was hard to come by. Worth more than any other resource or emotion. Trust was so fragile, a little flame that could easily burn out, only to be given to the most delicate, dutiful hands. "But I know I shouldn't."

"No, you shouldn't," you agree. "But I'm glad that you do."

"You said 'us traitors'," he prompts, hoping that you'll allow his prying this time.

"Uh-huh?" you languidly lilt, though alarm bells are ringing in your head to change the course of conversation.

"Who'd you betray?"

You put the fork down with a sigh, though there's still a slight humor in your tone, wiping your mouth before you speak. "You want the list?"

He wordlessly nods, silently urging you on.

"Alright, but it's not pretty."

He says nothing, still waiting for you to stop stalling and tell him what he desperately wanted to know.

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'm waiting..." he chortles.

"Well," you start, only allowing the conversation because it's the first time you've ever seen Bucky look even remotely relaxed. "Let's start off with the big ones. The United States."

"Obviously."

"Mexico, England - actually all of the United Kingdom, France, for time purposes, let's just say most of Europe," you start, then prattle on for almost five minutes about all of the countries you were currently wanted in. And you were certain that there were more that you didn't know about. "And most surprisingly, Portugal."

"What the hell did you do in Portugal?" he snickers.

"I don't remember."

And maybe Bucky was being overly sensitive, hyper-aware of the slight change of inflection in your tone, but from the slight twist in your mouth to the lack of a sarcastic comment, your memory sounds like a pretty sore subject.

"They think I bombed the UN," Bucky unexpectedly offers.

"But you didn't," you remind him.

"So we can't go anywhere in North America," he decides, not even realizing that, for the first time, he'd just acknowledged the two of you as a unit. Or that this would be a perpetual partnership.

"Uh, that's not true. I actually am welcome in Canada."

"Canada... nice."

"We can go anywhere. The countries aren't the problem, it's the people that want us that make it a little tricky."

"So who wants you?"

"Besides you?" you quip. Bucky rolls his eyes, but this time you do manage to get a slight chuckle out of him. "Dreykov, but the Widows are the real problem there. SHIELD isn't too pleased with me, but they've got their hands full with HYDRA, who now that I think about it, I also pissed off. I think Romanov's given up on finding me, at least for now."

"Jeez, I thought I pissed off a lot of people."

"Please," you scoff. "I don't have the king of Wakanda, Tony Stark, Captain America, all on my shit list."

"Maybe," he snorts.

You omit the names of the people left behind. Those in the Red Room, he already knows those names well.

Logically, you knew you could not and should not take responsibility for them. But you left. Even years on the run were better than staying in that hellhole. You owed an unspoken and un-payable debt to the man in front of you. You spent years alone, it was better that way, but for the man who risked everything for you all those years ago, you were going to do the same for him.

Six Months Later...

He hangs from your lips as you walk through the town square. You laugh, pushing his shoulder to look at the fruit stand in front of you.

As you reach for the small basket of plums, you can pinpoint the very moment when it all goes to hell.

When the skeletons in your closet, plotting hard to fuck this up, finally escape. You hear the frantic, hushed whispers as you pass through the town square. Whispers you've never heard before. People strangely scanning the area, all on high alert. Your shoulders stiffen, squeezing Bucky's hand three times to alert him of the danger.

You also see the very moment all his walls go back up.

"Shit," you hiss under your breath, tugging Bucky by his hand through the crowd of people.

You've been here too long. Been too complacent. Too at ease. Distracted by the man in beside you, you let your guard down.

You stand with his hands on your waistline. It's a scene that's already begun and you're out here in plain sight, you can practically hear the whispers of accusation as they pass by.

And for the first time in very long time, you feel vulnerable.

You know he feels it too.

The little flame you pretended could burn forever was being threatened before your very eyes and you felt utterly helpless to stop it.

And though you tell yourself that if he just holds your hand without dropping it, it'll all be fine, but you're not even sure that you believe it.

You've always been the first to leave, to cut ties once people could no longer carry their own weight, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it now. You couldn't leave him behind.

You both scan the area for watchful, anachronistic eyes. And it's your eyes that catch a SHIELD agent in plain clothes hissing into a hidden communication wire on their shoulder.

"We have to go," you caution, tearing your eyes away from the agent as they stand up from their seat. "Now."

That's when the first shot rings out from a vantage point above you. One of the first bullets clip you in the arm, and Bucky tears you away as more shots surround the two of you. He takes your hand, ducking into a small alcove just out of sight. It's not a permanent refuge, but it's a pause to gather your bearings.

"I don't have anything," you hiss, clutching your injured arm.

"Me neither. Is it bad?" he asks.

The worst part of it is that he actually sounds genuinely concerned, his eyes are filled with sincerity as though a graze wound is more important than the fact that you're both hopelessly surrounded. You ignore his question, keeping an eye out for anymore SHIELD henchmen. "We need a plan."

"We're not getting out of here unarmed. I'll go back to the apartment, and-"

You vehemently shake your head, clutching his arm to keep him in place, "They'll have it surrounded by now."

"I'll be fine. I'll get the bag. You got the getaway car?"

"Yeah," you hesitantly nod, a strange sense of impending doom rising in your throat.

"Hey," he pauses before he takes off. A firm hand on the back of your neck, he kisses you with all the intensity he can muster. It's unsettling how much it feels like a goodbye. "We're gonna be okay."

You nod, squeezing his hand one last time before he runs off. You watch him duck out of the alcove into a narrow pathway leading to your apartment.

With bated breath, you scan the area. You shake away the last of the dread, tugging off the baseball cap and pulling up the hood of your sweater.

Running calls too much attention, you know this from experience. So with your head low, you briskly walk down the cobblestone streets to just up the road where several cars are parked. You won't even take the time to figure out what will work best, what will get you away quickest. You'll take the first thing you get your hands.

You yank the handle of the first car you reach.

But you're not thinking clearly. Worry is muddying your mind. You forget you don't have your handy little device in your back pocket. The car alarm sounds, practically deafening to a person trying to remain inconspicuous.

You curse yourself, the foolish mistake of leaving it in your house. It was a safe-house, it was never meant to be your home. But you lost sight of that.

And now SHIELD agents have caught sight of you again.

"Damn it," you hiss, climbing into the car.

The SHIELD agents shouting at you are drowned out by the obnoxious car still blaring.

With unmeasured, indecisive movements, you do your best to start the car in front of you.

Your breathing comes quicker and for the first time in a very long time, you're not calm, you're not steady. You're worried. Carrying not only the weight of yourself, but Bucky too. You've tethered yourself to another person and that implication truly weighs on you now.

With sloppy, novice moves, you finally get the damned thing started.

One hand on the steering wheel, the other frantically throwing your seatbelt on, you take off down the street, ignoring the squealing of other cars behind you. You already know that this entire area will now be crawling with SHIELD agents and whoever else is looking for Bucky.

You take a sharp turn down the sloped road that leads straight to the safe house. You sigh, clutching the wheel, your only focus on reaching Bucky.

And that's your Achilles' heel.

Because before you even see them barreling toward you, before you can react, a large van violently smashes into you, sending the small sedan rolling down the sloped road.

You gasp as the impact takes you by surprise, the sheer force knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Your head smacks against the window on the driver's side, you feel glass shards in your hair and swiftly cutting and scraping against your skin as you tumble through the car.

You don't have time to assess injury or even the severity of your situation, because the second the car is done rolling, you unhook the seatbelt. More glass scrapes against your neck as you hit the roof of the upside down car.

You reach for the door. With all your force you try to pry the door open, but the crumpled metal wedges the door shut.

Panic rises up in your throat, but your training reminds you to shove it back down. You remind yourself that you're still you. You're well trained. You have that going for yourself. You can handle this.

Although you can hear the shards of broken glass cutting into to your jacket and you can feel each small cut of your hands, you position yourself away from the window. With both of your feet and one swift kick, the window breaks just enough to allow for an escape.

You claw your way out of the car before anyone can reach you. In spite of the pain throbbing in your body, you bolt again. In search for anything to get you and Bucky away from here.

At the foot of the road, you see a small bike. It's not ideal, but it's all you've got.

This time, it's only adrenaline that fuels you.

You manage to get the bike started and immediately take off in search of Bucky. You swerve down pedestrian walkways, small back roads not intended for vehicles. You cut corners and dodge pedestrians as they shout in fear and dive out of your way.

And you finally find him in the very center of the circus. The same circus you turned into your twisted love story.

His head shoots up at the sound of the revving engine. And this time, he takes no joy in the sight of you. He looks at your face, bloodied and bruised. Your extended hand bloodied and shaking from pain or anxiety, he's not sure.

Though you yourself are barely standing, you extend a frantic, shaky hand to him, "Come on. I know a place."

This time he shakes his head. Partly because he's tired of running, tired of constantly looking over his shoulder and waiting for the other shoe to drop. But mostly because he can't be selfish anymore.

The vultures are circling and he knows the price of being caught. And though he didn't want to admit it, every day it seems more and more likely that you both are going to get caught. After all, how many places can one person know?

And worst of all, the price is much steeper for you. You get caught and he knows you have little to no chance. There's no one out there feeling sorry for you. You don't have Captain America as a bargaining chip or as leverage for freedom. Steve's not championing your cause, fighting for your future.

He knows it's an asshole move, making the choice for you, but he also knows you'd never give up on him.

You watch as he takes a step closer to the people chasing your tail. A step away from you. "Come on, Soldier. Don't do this."

"Us traitors never win."

And with those words, he takes off. The bag you gave him strapped on his back, the money, and everything you'd spent a life on the run cultivating, all gone with him.

He leaves. Leaves you there, still surrounded, vastly outmanned. But it's his words that hit you like a shotgun shot to the heart.

"Fuck," you angrily sigh, slamming your injured hand on the bike.

You contemplate going after him. Even begging him to take your hand. But you're not a beggar, you remind yourself. You're a traitor, destined to lose.

You kick off the road, revving the bike and taking off in the getaway car. You murmur a goodbye to the only traitor that ever mattered to you.

And remind yourself that you should've been the first to leave.

2 Years Later...

"Remind me again when I started taking orders from SHIELD?" Bucky sarcastically asks, popping in the small earpiece.

"When you were pardoned under the condition that you contribute to society," Sam quips.

"And I can't just pay taxes?"

"No," Nat interjects. "Besides, this one's a little personal for me. But I think for you too."

Bucky grunts, unimpressed by the vague details he had going into the mission. He knew two things: he was to get dressed nicely and he was apprehending someone. The sparse details and checkered information he had were a little too reminiscent of his former partner in crime from almost 2 years ago. "Are you going to explain?"

With a wry smirk and a knowing look, Nat slides Bucky a fuzzy still from a hotel security footage. He knows just from the vague outline exactly who this is.

A uncharacteristic chuckle bubbles out of his mouth at the sight of a person he'd been trying to find for the better part of a year. The person who ran with him through hell.

He tried that number so many times, only to be met with an annoying beeping and a monotone operator that informed him that the number had never once been in service. Just like that you were gone.

Nothing more than a fleeting memory of the best of times and the worst of crimes.

"Did you just laugh? Did he just laugh?"

He shakes his head, ignoring Sam's question and staring down at the picture. "What are you going to do with her?"

"That's really up to her. She's a slippery one. She'll smell me coming from a mile away," Nat remarks, and Bucky vaguely remembers you telling him that you thought she'd given up on finding you. It's clear to Bucky that it wasn't the case. "But you? She might listen to you."

"I'm not going to force her to be here. I won't arrest her."

"I don't want you to. You shouldn't have to force her to be here. She's been on the run long enough. If they can find a place for me here, they can find a place for her."

And the second he gets to the swanky hotel bar, his eyes find you immediately. Like they're drawn to you and only you. He can only see the back of your little black dress. Something that blends in, but with an elegance that sets you apart from the other businessmen leering at you from afar.

Your shoulders stiffen after he looks for a moment too long. It's as though you can feel his eyes on you before you ever see him.

He adjusts his suit jacket and walks the length of the room, ending at the bar. If you've noticed he's standing right beside you, you don't say. You take a long sip from your drink, looking unaffected at his familiar presence. He takes a moment to study your profile, the familiar slope of your nose, the jawline he'd traced countless times on sleepy mornings, lips he once hung from. He flags down the bartender with his gloved hand, "I'll take an Old-Fashioned."

"You don't like bourbon."

"Maybe I'm here for the experience."

"You can't get drunk."

"Neither can you and yet, here you are." You say nothing to him, taking another long drink from your glass as though the liquor will somehow start to work after all these years. He chuckles, "I almost can't believe it. It's bold, even for you. New York, right under SHIELD's nose. Does laying low mean nothing to you?"

"Get out of here," you sharply order, the softness in your voice once reserved for him long gone.

"I know a place," he offers, hoping the sentimentality of the phrase will make you more amendable to leaving with him - to staying with him.

It doesn't.

"I'm not going with you," you curtly decline.

"They're not exactly giving me a choice."

"So do it," you challenge, whirling around in your seat and presenting your wrists to him. He takes in the sight of your face for the first time in years, and immediately notes that there is no warmth in them for him. In spite of the ire, he maintains eye contact with your icy glare and coyly smiles at you. "What's another betrayal to you?"

He ignores the bait, taking out his ear piece and dropping it in the glass in front of him. He knows the thing is probably high-tech enough that it won't completely malfunction in liquid, but it gives him a chance to talk to you without other listening ears present. "They're not that bad, you know. Once you get past the superhero complexes and self-righteousness."

"I'm still not going with you."

"Think about what you're doing here."

"I wonder if it'll be a maximum security," you audibly think, simply to egg Bucky on. "Or will they save themselves a prison break and throw me on the Raft?"

He frowns deeply. "Is it really worth it? Locked up for the rest of your life because you don't want to be a good guy?"

You stand up out of your seat, downing the rest of your glass as you slide off the stool. "Not good enough."

"Dance with me," he offers out of the blue.

"What?"

"One dance. For old time's sake," he lies, trying to buy himself enough time to stop whatever comes next.

You look to the small quartet in the corner of the room, then the the few couples swaying on the marbled dance-floor. "Dancing is a dangerous game."

"Then it's good that I can handle myself."

Your eyes narrow, sizing Bucky up. "Lead the way."

He takes your hand. It's a familiar feeling, almost second nature to intertwine his fingers with your, his thumb lightly grazing the back of your warm hand. He only strokes your hand once before you rip your hand out of his hold. He schools his expression, taking the defensiveness in stride. Instead, he puts his his right hand on the small of your back.

The moment you reach the dance-floor, he tugs you closer to him. His gloved metal hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the slow rhythm of the music. The other hand finally back in yours.

"I think the last time I danced was with you. In Romania."

"You know, I'm not a very sentimental person." you reply simply, cutting off Bucky's attempt at a trip down memory lane.

"Clearly."

"Holding onto the past is useless, I've learned. Especially when it ended the way it did," you coldly remind him.

"Does that bother you?"

"You've moved on to bigger and better things. It doesn't matter to me."

His head lolls, clearly mulling over your words. "Bigger? Maybe. Better? I don't think so."

"That's a terrible pitch, Soldier."

"I know better than to sell to you of all people."

"Mm... flattery. You're getting desperate," you flippantly point out.

"You don't need me to flatter you."

"But it sounds so nice coming out of your mouth."

He chuckles, taking the moment to spin you out and back into his arms, even closer than before. Still faced away from him, his right hand is in your left. He lowers his face down to the crook of your neck, speaking lowly, "Well, then let me tell you how beautiful you look tonight. Your poor target. It's the most lethal things that come in the most beautiful packages. Designed to lure you in, to entice, and then... well, you know."

"Very astute." He twirls you again, this time you end up facing him. You slowly inch your face closer to Bucky's. His exhales become your inhales. His lips are so close to yours, as close as they can be without touching. "My target is anything but poor."

"You wouldn't need to do this anymore. You could stop running, stop looking over your shoulder."

"It doesn't matter," you mutter against his lips.

"Why?" he breathes, lowering himself to capture your elusive lips.

As he lowers himself, you take a step back. With a cheeky smile, your hands drop from his shoulders as the song comes to a close. "Because your time is up, Soldier. Did you decide? Are you going to arrest me? Or tell those people sitting outside that you lost me?"

"There's a third option there."

A bitter chuckle leaves your mouth, "I'm a lot of things, but a fool is not one of them."

"Exactly. You know when you're outmanned."

"You can't strong-arm me into the Avengers Compound."

"You said I was a good reason," he abruptly interjects.

"Because I thought you were. I suppose should've known better." He shuts his eyes, your words hitting him like a shot to the heart. He feels you slipping away from him. All he can think is that this is the last time he's ever going to see you again. One way or another, this is the only chance he has left. "I was wrong about one thing though."

"What?" he asks, his eyes opening to see you standing right in his face.

You finally look him dead in the eye, lowering yourself to meet his eye line. "Some traitors do win."

"I remember," he blurts, grabbing your wrist to stop you from walking away. "I remember everything."

"Good for you," you scoff, trying to wrench your wrist from his hand.

"It's why I did what I did. I ran because I - I saw that look on your face. I knew we weren't both getting out of there. I didn't get very far. Only made it about a mile before I was surrounded."

"I don't give a shi-"

"I went to Wakanda," he continues as though you hadn't tried interrupting him. "Back in cryo. The trigger words don't work anymore. And I was pardoned under the condition that I help the good guys, but I looked for you. Every day, I looked." He reaches in to his pocket. For a second, you think that he's pulling out a gun, but then you see the glint of the burner phone you gave him all those years ago. It shocks you that he kept it all this time. "I tried calling. I still try calling you. But you were gone. You're kinda a tough person to get ahold of."

"Yeah, well, I'm still on the run. Can't exactly list my phone number."

"I wanted to apologize. To thank you. To- to tell you I missed you," he say, vulnerability slowly creeping into his voice. He loosens his grip on your wrist, letting his hand slowly skate down until he feels the warmth of your fingertips. He grabs your hand, squeezing it three times. This time, there's no danger lurking just around the corner, it's because he knows it going to be a long road. Not an easy road, but a road he doesn't want you to face alone anymore. "I know a place. For the both of us. No more running. No more games. Please."

You sigh, staring into his blue, pleading eyes filled with silent promises. "Lead the way."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

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lukesaprince · 11 months ago

Text

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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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

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Kinktober - {Day Twenty-One} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Damon Salvatore x F!Reader} Request {Anon}: This is for your Kinktober event! I've had this idea floating around since your story with Damon S and Elijah. Threesome/Cumplay/Squirting Fem!Reader getting taken to Paris by D & E only for Elijah to cum inside them and Damon eats it out. This is pure filth, I know! Love your writing!

♡♡♡ Omggg, YOUR MIND!!!!! Holy hell this idea is perfection. First, I'm so thrilled you were inspired by Respect! It's based on one of my favorite Elijah moments from TVD (& favorite ship) IF ONLY THE WRITERS WERE BRAVE ENOUGH. Second, because I love you & your beautiful mind... YOU GET A CERTFICATE. This isn't a greedy amount of kinks... but in the idea.... well... (see bottom of post for your reward) ♡♡♡

3.5k words - Kinks: very very very bisexual, threesome, squirting, you and Damon worshipping Elijah (duh!), Elijah being dom, oral sex (m & f receiving) &&& lots of filth ...

When Damon insisted on you wearing a blindfold as you exited the plane, you knew something was up. You let him take your hand, leading you out of the cabin and down the steps. As you felt a cool breeze tickle your legs and a new smell fill your nose, you frowned.

"Can I take this off now?" You asked, referring to the blindfold.

"No," said the voice of Elijah. You could hear the smirk on his lips, and the fact that you couldn't see him made you want to take it off even more. "Patience, my love."

You grumbled a bit, nearly tripping down the last step. But you felt the firm grip of Damon's hands on your hips, and his body behind yours.

As soon as your feet hit the ground, he took a few steps away, and you heard two car doors open.

"In," said Damon. "I'm in the back with you."

"So bossy," you teased.

You slid in, Damon's hands helping guide you into the backseat. Elijah was already sitting next to you, his arm draped around your shoulders. His warmth seeped through his suit jacket, and you relaxed into his touch.

Damon got in next to you and closed the door.

"I can't wait to be alone with you both," you whispered, nuzzling into Elijah's neck.

"Don't worry, love," said Elijah, kissing the top of your head. "We have a lot planned for you."

Damon placed a hand on your thigh, sliding it up your leg. Your skirt had bunched up from sitting down, and Damon's fingers brushed your bare skin.

"Are we really doing this now?" You asked.

"Why not?" Damon chuckled, but before he could go further, Elijah’s grip tightened subtly on your shoulder.

"Later," he said, his tone firm, but there was a promise hidden in his words. Damon sighed in mock frustration, pulling his hand away, but you could sense the unspoken exchange between the two of them. The silent communication they shared only heightened the anticipation, the feeling of being wanted by both of them.

You were tempted to take Damon’s hand and slide it back to where you needed it most, but the teasing was part of the game. And you loved the game.

The rest of the drive was filled with a charged silence, your senses heightened by the darkness behind the blindfold and the warmth of both men pressed close to you. The car eventually stopped, and Damon helped you out, your fingers clutching his as you carefully followed him across uneven cobblestones.

The sounds around you, the distant chatter in French, the soft hum of city life, gave away your location before they even removed the blindfold. You were in Paris, the city of love, and your heart leaped in excitement.

Finally, you stopped. You heard keys jingling, a lock turning, and then Elijah’s hands were on you, slipping the blindfold away.

“Welcome,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “To our little getaway.”

The room before you was luxurious, the golden hues of the décor bathed in the fading light from a large window overlooking the Eiffel Tower. It felt like a dream, one they had crafted just for you.

You spun to face them, a broad grin spreading across your lips. "Paris!" you squealed, leaping into Elijah’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Thank you!”

Elijah chuckled, catching you easily. “Only the best for you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice a deep, comforting hum in your ear.

Damon was speaking to the staff in French, ordering room service and more than a few bottles of champagne.

"What would you like to do first?" Elijah asked.

"Well," you started, walking over to the window. You glanced out, admiring the view. The sun was setting just past the city, making everything glow. "First, I'd like to enjoy a bottle of champagne. Then… maybe, a tour?"

"Whatever the lady wants," said Damon, grinning.

Elijah kissed your forehead and excused himself to the bathroom, and as soon as the door shut behind him, Damon was in front of you, kissing your neck.

“Oh, hello,” you laughed, your hands finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric.

“Hi,” Damon whispered against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hands were on your hips, tugging you back against him. “I was thinking we might stay in tonight... just the three of us.”

You turned in his arms, the tension between you palpable. “I like the way you think,” you murmured, brushing your lips against his.

Without wasting another second, Damon pulled you to the bed, laying you down on the plush mattress, his hands never leaving your body. He crawled over you, pressing his lips to yours, a gentle moan escaping his mouth. You reached down, trying to work the button on his jeans.

You barely heard the door open, but Elijah cleared his throat, and you and Damon pulled apart.

"Don't stop on my account," he smirked, and Damon gave him a look, which made Elijah chuckle. "You can keep going."

You grinned, but before you could pull Damon back to you, there was a knock at the door.

"Damn it," groaned Damon.

"That would be our food," Elijah said.

Damon pouted and rolled off you, and you stifled a laugh. Elijah moved to answer the door, tipping the delivery man generously and pulling a cart filled with food and drink inside.

Champagne flutes were filled, bubbles rising in the golden liquid as the three of you clinked glasses. You took a long sip, savoring the moment. The sunset outside bathed the room in a soft glow, and for a moment, everything was perfect. Still, warm, full of anticipation.

Elijah’s gaze darkened as he looked at you, the intensity of his stare making heat rise in your chest. Damon, always quick to follow suit, watched you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

You placed your glass down, feeling the charge in the air shift. Elijah’s hand slipped under your chin, guiding you into a kiss. His mouth was firm, insistent, tasting of champagne. His control was intoxicating, and you melted into him, giving in to the feeling.

When his lips left yours, you barely had time to miss the taste of him before Damon’s mouth was on you. His hands roamed your body, sending sparks of pleasure through your skin.

"Mm," Elijah chuckled, his voice low and teasing. "I do love it when you're greedy."

"I want this off," you whined, tugging at his suit jacket impatiently. "Now."

With a grin, he stepped back, slowly slipping out of his clothes, revealing the toned, muscular body underneath. Your eyes darted to Damon, raising your eyebrows in silent challenge.

"I'm not taking anything off until you do," Damon teased, his gaze smoldering.

You smiled, getting on your knees on the bed, and slipped your dress over your head, tossing it to the floor. The cool air grazed your skin, but the way their eyes lingered on you, like they were ready to devour you, sent warmth flooding through your body.

Damon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and jeans. You leaned back, watching as they undressed, their bodies a tantalizing display of strength and desire.

“I think the lady likes what she sees," Elijah smirked, his eyes dark with intent.

"You could say that," Damon agreed, his gaze drifting over Elijah's body before locking on yours. The hunger between them was palpable, and seeing it unfold before you made your pulse race.

Elijah stepped closer to Damon, his hand pressing against his chest, guiding him back onto the bed. Damon grinned up at him, and Elijah bent down, their lips crashing together in a rough, heated kiss. It was raw and unrestrained, their desire for each other on full display.

Without breaking the kiss, Elijah's hand reached out, tangling in your hair, pulling you in with a growl.

"Come here," he commanded, his voice husky.

You moved closer, and he claimed your lips with the same intensity, his kiss demanding and unapologetic. His tongue pushed into your mouth, sending a wave of need through you that made you moan. When he pulled back, his eyes flicked between you and Damon, a wicked gleam lighting up his face.

"On your knees," he ordered, the edge in his voice impossible to ignore.

You and Damon exchanged a quick, knowing glance before grinning and obeying. You both sank to the floor as Elijah, ever the gentleman, threw down a pillow for your knees. You shot him a grateful smile, placing a quick kiss on his thigh.

Standing tall before you, his erection just inches from your face, Elijah looked down at you both, the power of the moment simmering in his eyes. You and Damon leaned forward together, tongues flicking out to lick up and down his length, your mouths meeting as you worshiped him.

The sensation of Damon's lips alongside the heat of Elijah's cock on your tongue had you whimpering in arousal, your body aching for more.

"Oh, love," Elijah purred, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided his cock deeper into your mouth. "Is someone feeling needy?"

You nodded, eyes wide and desperate, and Elijah chuckled softly, clearly relishing the control he held. The feeling of him filling your mouth made your core throb with desire.

"What about you?" Elijah asked, turning his gaze to Damon.

"Always," Damon replied, his smirk wicked as ever.

Elijah shifted, pulling you off him with a firm hand in your hair, making you whimper in protest at the sudden emptiness. His hand found Damon's hair next, pulling him closer. "Your turn. Take what you need."

Damon wasted no time, taking Elijah's cock into his mouth with a practiced ease, his head bobbing up and down as he worked him with skilled precision. You watched in awe, your arousal growing as the wet sounds of his lips sliding over Elijah’s shaft filled the air.

Not wanting to be left out, you leaned in and kissed along Elijah’s length, your tongue tracing the path Damon had just left, meeting his in the process. Your hand slipped down to fondle Elijah's balls, rolling them gently between your fingers as you both continued to worship him.

The way Elijah groaned, his head thrown back in pleasure, only spurred you on. The tension built in the room, palpable and intense.

"Enough," Elijah growled, his voice ragged as he pushed you both away.

You and Damon fell back, sitting on the floor, gazing up at him, your chests rising and falling as you caught your breath.

"So perfect," Elijah murmured, his gaze sweeping over you both with clear admiration. He ran his thumb over your lips before leaning down to kiss you, the weight of his dominance ever-present. His hand curled around the back of your neck, and with a playful shove, he pushed you back onto the bed.

You landed with a breathless laugh, looking up at him, your body buzzing with anticipation. His devilish grin made your pulse quicken as he turned his attention back to Damon. Their mouths met again in another fierce kiss, their bodies grinding against each other, and the sight was intoxicating.

Unable to resist, you slid a hand between your legs, teasing yourself as you watched them. A soft moan escaped your lips, drawing their attention.

Both Elijah and Damon broke the kiss, turning their gaze to you. The look in their eyes was nothing short of predatory.

"Look at you," Elijah teased, his voice dripping with desire. "Already so desperate."

You bit your lip, spreading your legs wider, showing off the wet patch on your panties. "What do you think, Damon?" Elijah asked, not breaking eye contact with you. "Should we give her what she wants?"

Damon's eyes darkened with lust as they swept over you. "I think we should have a taste," he said with a wicked grin.

The two of them crawled onto the bed, one on either side of you. They leaned in, their tongues lapping at your breasts. Elijah pulled your nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting, and Damon's hand drifted down, slipping under the wet fabric. You gasped as his fingers brushed over your clit, teasing you. You moaned and pushed against him, desperate for more. Your eyes wide and desperate, locked with his.

Elijah’s lips ghosted down your stomach, the heat of his breath sending shivers across your skin. His stubble tickled as he moved lower, replacing Damon's hand to slide your panties off. Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, he dipped down, and the warm sensation of his tongue circling your clit made you moan, arching your back toward him.

Damon bent down, capturing your lips, muffling your cries. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his hand cupping your face. You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your core, the sensation growing stronger and stronger. You reached down, your fingers tangling in Elijah's hair, pulling him closer. You rocked against his face, and his arm wrapped around your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin.

Damon pulled back, his hands pinning your arms to the bed. He held you down, watching as you writhed under their touch. His bright blue eyes wild and lustful.

The orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing through your body as you cried out Elijah's name. Pleasure rushed through you, leaving your thighs slick and Elijah’s face glistening. Damon released your arms, chuckling as he looked at Elijah's usually impeccable appearance, now messy with your wetness.

"That's a good look for you," Damon teased, leaning in to lick Elijah’s chin. Elijah shot him a dark, hungry look before grabbing Damon and pulling him into a rough kiss.

You sat up, watching the two of them. Elijah pulled away, and his gaze snapped back to you

"Lie down," he ordered. "And spread your legs."

You obeyed without hesitation, anticipation thrumming through you. Elijah's hand slipped between Damon's thighs, stroking him slowly. His touch made Damon moan, his hips jerking in response.

Elijah glanced back at you, smirking. "Do you see how much he needs me?"

"Yes," you breathed, watching them hungrily.

"And I need you," Elijah said, his voice softening as he turned his attention back to you. He pushed Damon onto the bed next to you, crawling between your legs. His eyes met yours, full of intensity and adoration.

"Please," you whispered, lifting your hips to him.

Elijah positioned himself at your entrance, pushing into you, inch by inch. His mouth found yours, claiming it in a hungry kiss. Damon watched from the side, his own hand stroking his length.

You wrapped your legs around Elijah's waist, pulling him deeper, the delicious feeling of being filled by him making you cry out in pleasure. He moved with slow, deep thrusts, leaning back to watch your face, savoring every reaction.

His thumb circled your clit, his touch light and teasing, and the sensation made you arch your back, desperate for more. You turned your head, finding Damon's lips, kissing him deeply as you clung to him. Damon chuckled against your lips, positioning himself so that you could take him into your mouth. You moaned around him, tasting the salty pre-cum, sucking him greedily.

Damon groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair. He held you there, fucking your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, gagging slightly, the sensation only making you want him more.

"That's it, sweetheart," Elijah cooed, his thumb rubbing faster circles on your clit. "Show him how good you can take it."

Elijah's praise, mixed with the taste of Damon's cock, the feeling of him filling your mouth, was too much, and you came again, shaking and moaning around him.

As your body spasmed, Damon pressed his hips up, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck," he growled, his hand gripping your hair.

You felt him tense, the heat of his release pouring down your throat. You swallowed around him, sucking him clean, looking up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes.

He grinned down at you, panting. "Good girl."

Elijah's pace was growing erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer, his hips slamming against yours. He was letting out these sexy little moans and grunts, his jaw clenched in concentration.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice rough and low. "Come for me again."

He shifted, leaning back and thrusting harder. The new angle sent waves of pleasure through you, and you came with a cry, clinging to him as he fucked you through your release.

Elijah's eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze taking your breath away, he pulled you to him, crushing his lips to yours. His hands squeezed your ass, and he thrust deep inside, bouncing you on his lap. His grip was so tight, his body trembling, the sound of him groaning against your lips filled the air. You could feel him twitching inside you, his orgasm washing over him, the feeling of his cum spilling into you making your toes curl.

Elijah pulled away, gently setting your legs back down on the bed. He walked over to the table, pouring a glass of champagne, taking a sip, watching you and Damon with a pleased look on his face.

Damon looked down at the mess between your legs, grinning. "Looks like someone enjoyed herself."

You giggled, your eyes half-lidded, a satisfied smile on your face. You reached up and cupped his beautiful face, his bright eyes twinkling. The blue seemed to grow a shade darker, his smile turning devilish, and you felt his hands on you, his touch electric.

"I don't think I'm quite done with you yet," he murmured, his breath hot on your ear.

You let out a gasp as he moved between your legs, kissing along your inner thighs, his fingers teasing your opening. He lapped up Elijah's cum, his tongue circling your sensitive clit.

"Fuck," you moaned, reaching down and pulling his hair.

Elijah watched for a moment, entranced by the sight of Damon's mouth on your cunt. He moved over to the bed, sitting behind you, his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you in place.

Damon continued, his tongue and lips working magic on your pussy, the soft sounds he made vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Elijah kissed along your shoulder, his hands roaming over your breasts, gently pinching and twisting your nipples.

"Look at him," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "So eager to please you."

You looked down at Damon, his gaze locked with yours. His tongue was lapping at your clit, his mouth sucking and licking.

"Doesn't he look pretty like that?" Elijah asked. "So focused on making you feel good."

You nodded, whimpering as the tension built inside you, your hands twisting in the sheets, pulling and gripping them.

"You're going to come for us again, aren't you?" Elijah murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You're going to come so hard. So fucking loud."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you came, screaming and bucking your hips, pushing yourself against Damon's mouth.

Your body trembled as the pleasure washed over you, wave after wave, leaving you panting and shaking. Elijah's grip tightened around you, holding you close.

Damon licked you clean, his tongue lapping up every drop. When he was finished, he kissed the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering on the soft skin.

"That's my good girl," Elijah cooed, holding you as the last of your tremors faded away.

You collapsed into his arms, the exhaustion and satisfaction taking over. You lay there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. Damon laid down beside you, his arm draped over your stomach.

"I don't think I can move," you muttered, closing your eyes and resting your head on Elijah's chest.

Elijah chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. "Then don't."

You drifted off, wrapped in the warmth and comfort of their bodies, the sound of their breathing filling the air.

Paris was everything you could have hoped for, and more. But the best part was sharing the experience with them. This was a perfect night, and it was only just the beginning.

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 5 months ago

Text

DISEASE- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Peter x Fem! Reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: You and your friend group head up to Peters infamious ski lodge weekend getaway, the same as every year. Except this year, theres tension in the air, and a masked man on the loose. Your actions have consequences....

(UNTIL DAWN INSPIRED) (but u dont need to play the game to read:) )

Warnings: SMUT, lowkey darkish peter, dumbification kink, mocking, size kink, fingering, teasing, creampie, swearing, foreplay? (peter gets off on y/n getting scared), mentions of booze and implications of torture

Notes: since the revamped verison of until dawn came out my obsession has came back full force, so i wrote a fic with marvel characters as if they were in until dawn! i wrote this in one sitting lol. its not lore accurate but..love josh washington.. so of course peter must be him....

"could play the doctor, i can cure your disease/ if you were a sinner, i could make you believe/ lay you down like one, two, three/ eyes roll back in ecstasy/ i can smell your sickness, i can cure ya/ cure your disease"- disease, lady gaga

You stared in dismay at the thin piece of paper that fluttered in the wind, barely clinging to the large iron gate by a thin piece of tape.

“Gate Broken. Climb over. -Steve”

Taking a breath, you gathered your wits about you, grumbling the whole way over to the side of the wall where the stone sides had started to crumble, giving you access to climb up and over. This was not the way you wanted to start your weekend getaway at Peters lodge, but it seemed you had no choice.

First your bus was late due to black ice, then your bag had dropped in the deep snow, the fabric dripping cold drips of water down your thin jacket. And now this.

Would anything go right this weekend?

You were nervous. You hadn’t seen the group in over a year, but once Peter had sent a text to the group, everyone had been quick to respond. You were excited to be back but also… anxious.

It had been a while since you had been here and what happened last time…

Your fingers stung as the stone dug into your palms, and you huffed chilled air as you tossed yourself over, feet tingling as you landed with an oomph. It wasn't far now to the ski lift. You’d be out of this cold, haunting forest soon enough, surrounded by your friends' warmth.

Especially Peter's warmth, a little voice in the back of your head chimed.

The longer you thought of him, the warmer your cheeks became, making your breaths turn to startled pants in the deep snow. You and Peter had been friends since the first year of college, which he then introduced you to the rest of the group.

Bucky, who had been Peter's best friend since childhood, Steve- the big flirt (not nearly as bad as Peter though), Natasha- who was Bucky's girlfriend, Wanda, her friend Matt, and Loki.

All of them had been welcoming to you, making you feel right at home as if you had been friends with them for years. But when things got out of hand last year at the lodge, when Peter's sister went missing… it was distant.

You had pushed that memory as far back as you could, so whenever you tried to conjure it to the surface it was murky. A prank had gone wrong, despite you begging to the group to end it- Peter passed out on the couch.

His sister had been so in love with Bucky and well…

You watched the lift inch towards you, the doors swinging open with a loud clang. You closed your eyes in prayer that this car wouldn't snap with you inside, the old thing barely inching faster than a snail's pace.

Surely if the Parkers were rich, they did maintenance checks regularly? You doubted it.

The glass inside was foggy, and you traced a heart on the window pane as you started to trudge up Blackwood Mountain. The scenery was beautiful, the sun starting to become covered by rolling clouds, the snow coating the trees below- but all you could think of was Peter.

You had always had a crush on him but recently it had turned dangerous. All you could think of was him. Ever since he had sent that text to the group, it was like a switch in your body had snapped. Like you were reminded- “oh shit, yes, yes I do like this man”.

And no amount of time or distance would change that.

Wanda and Natasha had always teased you, insisting Peter liked you back- but he flirts with everyone. You refused to believe it, not wanting to give your hopes up… in case they were playing a prank on you.

You couldn't help but worry about him though, with everything that had happened. You hoped he didn't resent anyone for what had happened that night.

You wished you could've stopped it, could've been there to wake him…

The car jutted to a stop and rocked back and forth, the door remaining shut. Oh fuck. You peered your head through the window in the door and saw Wanda with Matt, waiting at the stop. You banged on the door, snapping their attention over to you with a start.

“Could you open this? I'm uh.. Kinda stuck.”

Wanda laughed as she walked over to you, banging on the door before pressing the old button that took several seconds to work. Finally the doors swung open, leaving a loud creaking sound in their wake that echoed off the mountains.

“What, you didn't want to see us so you stayed in the car?” Matt called, a smirk on his lips as Wanda wrapped her arms around you, grasping you in a comforting embrace.

“Oooh I missed you girl! It's been so long since we've been back.” she smiled softly as Matt hugged you, taking the soaking backpack from your back. “I missed you guys too. Is anyone else here?”

“Everyone now I think. It's almost night-time, so I’m sure they're all waiting at the lodge for us.”

You bit your lip, nodding solemnly.

“Were you guys waiting long? Sorry, you didn't have to or anything, my bus was super late and the gate was broken…”

“What no! It's all good girl, Matt didn't mean anything by it. We’re just all so excited to see you.”

“Especially Peter.” Matt laughed, and you put your head in your hands.

“Maybe he’ll warm you up Y/N, since it's so cold out here.” Wanda winked, making you giggle. “Well, let's hope he can warm my freezing buns up.” you snorted, earning a pat on the back from Matt.

“Atta girl. Maybe we’ll all get lucky tonight.” he said, and you flickered your eyes over to catch Wanda blushing deeply.

Wait.. were they? You didn't push it. You'd find out as the night went on.

Who knew what had happened in that year, maybe things had changed. You didn't have much time to think about it before you arrived at the lodge's entrance, warm light glowing from inside.

“You get the easy treatment. I heard Bucky and Peter had to break in and unmelt the lock.” Matt grimaced, and you couldn't help but laugh as you imagined Bucky falling flat on his ass through the window.

“Jesus. You guys just needed me here, I could have warmed the lock up with my hotness.”

“Damn straight bitch!” Wanda laughed as she unlatched the door, letting the warmth wash over your frozen bones. An eruption of cheers sounded from the blazing fireplace, drinks opened on the ground.

“She made it!” Steve called, rushing over to give you a bear hug, practically picking you up and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Oh fuck youre freezing. Did you walk all the way up here?! Is that why you're late?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, my bus was late. I’m so sorry guys.”

“We thought you forgot about us.” Peter smirked, boyish charm radiating off of him, a lint in his eyes as he walked over to you, towering over you.

“Hi. I'm so sorry Peter, I swear-"

" I'm kidding you. Cmere.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso, breathing in his scent of musk and amber, his skin like fire compared to yours. “Fuck Steve was right. Shit, come sit by the fire.” he urged, and as if on cue, you shivered.

He helped you peel your cold layers off your body, hanging up your coat to dry. Bucky gave you a taste of his warm whisky, immediately making you splutter and grimace at the strong, overpowering taste.

Jokes were tossed around, and you found yourself in an easy rhythm with the group, as if nothing had ever happened. You looked to Peter in reassurance, already finding his eyes staring you down when you met his. He studied you as you talked to Natasha, drinking you in.

You tried to keep your composure, but the butterflies churned in your chest.

“Did you want to take a warm bath?” Peter asked, everyone turning to look at you as you shivered again.

“No, no it's okay Peter. Thank you though.”

“Are you sure? You're still freezing.” Loki nudged you with his leg from where he stretched out on the couch. Everyone looked at you with concern, Peter most of all.

“Okay maybe that would be nice. But that wont take away from what we're doing? I don't wanna just leave you guys.” you frowned.

“What?! No! Matt and I were gonna go for a walk around anyways, and I'm pretty sure Bucky, Loki and Steve wanted to dig out some spirit board anyways. Go take a bath and warm up, okay?” Wanda smiled softly at you, urging you to go with Peter.

“I just have to turn on the hot water.” He said, making his way over to the basement door. “I can come with you.” you offered.

“You sure? It's cold and dark.” You shrugged, honestly just wanting more time with Peter. “It's my bath, and I hear I’m pretty good at holding a flashlight.”

He laughed, tossing you his light. “Flashlight duty it is then.”

You followed him through the dark passageway, old stairs creaking under your weight as the little spotlight guided you onwards. The door slammed behind you with a slam, making you jump.

“Sorry, that always slams like that. This place is old as dirt.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, not only from the cold but how eerie it was.

“Man, it's creepy down here.” you noted as you finally reached the crypt, barely being able to see anything but dark shadows in the far distance. “What, you can't handle a little cobwebs?” he teased, shooting you a wink as he made his way over to the pipes.

You followed him, giving him a playful smack across his solid bicep, aiming the light where he navigated. It was quiet all but the drip of water on the concrete concrete floor, and your heavy breaths.

“Peter?”

“Hm?” You started fidgeting nervously.

“Are- are you doing okay? I mean, with everything? Today was a hard day, so I just…”

“I’m okay. I just… can't think about it for too long, ya know? But I wanted us all together to celebrate. To take our minds off of it.” he shrugged, switching on the hot water at last.

“I understand. And, thank you for inviting me Peter. I really appreciate it, and if you need anything at all… we’re all here for you.” you softly smiled, sensing his pain and vulnerability.

“I know. And between you and me, I wish I could have only invited you.” he winked, hand reaching up as if he wanted to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he caught himself.

There were the flirty comments again.

“You’re really sweet Y/N. You’ve been what I’ve needed this year, ya know? Just the thought of you is enough to cheer me up. I’m really happy you could make it.”

You felt your cheeks start to heat under his gaze. You knew he had been in therapy for some time now, and you hoped the sessions helped him. You always thought maybe you could fix him, not that he needed to be fixed. He wasn't broken, he was just…

A loud bang sounded from the corner of the room and you jumped, instinctive leaning into Peter. “What was that?” you croaked quietly, flashlight starting to shake.

“I have no fuckin idea.” he murmmed, stepping in front of you, as if he was to shield you. “Should we.. Should we check it out? Maybe it's an old pipe or something?”

“Old pipes don't make that noise.”

You gulped. Suddenly, something lunged for you and you screamed, clinging to Peter's bicep as you two started to bolt towards the stairs, and you nearly tripped up them as the shadow rushed at you.

Stumbling up the stairs you almost made it to the door before you could hear laughing.

“Hah! You just got Bunked! Get it, like punked? But I did it, so it's Bunked.” Bucky howled with laughter as he tugged the dark sheet off his body. Peter chuckled along with him, but your eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

“You- well you fucking dick!” you screamed, stomping down the rickety steps to give him a peace of your mind. Smacking his chest you growled.

“What the fuck were you doing?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” you snarled, pawing at him with closed fists.

“Hey, hey I’m sorry okay! We always do pranks here. I had to, because of tradition.”

“Did you know about this?”

Peter rolled his eyes, moving closer to you. “Nope, but you're cute when you're scared. Don't act like you weren't clinging onto my bicep like a monkey just then.” Peter smirked coyly, winking.

“You're both dicks.” Peter mock gasped, turning to Bucky with eyes wide in bewilderment. “You hear that Buck? She thinks we’re dicks! Guess my chances of getting some are slim.” he snickered as you trotted up the stairs, giving them an eye roll before escaping back out into the main room.

----------------------------------------------------------

You weren't sure how long you stayed in the bath, but the water was cold. You woke with a start, eyes fluttering open as the chill sent little shocks down your body.

You must have fallen asleep in the tub, the night darker than ever.

A little candle flickered on the vanity, and you grabbed it as you wrapped yourself up in a towel, wet footsteps trotting across the hardwood floors. It was dead quiet in the lodge, not an echo of chatter from the main room. You knew people had probably gone exploring, or gone to sleep but this was eerily quiet.

Something felt off. Something was wrong.

“Guys? Hello?” you peered your head out and saw nothing but an empty hallway. With only the candle to lead you on your way, you slowly padded down the hall, poking your head into empty rooms.

“Was I really asleep that long?” you murmured to yourself as you finally found your room where Matt had dropped off your bag near the freshly made bed.

It was uncomfortably large the lodge, and you constantly felt a set of eyes following your frame. You set the candle down, shutting the door behind you as you went to rub your pjs.

If this was another prank they were playing… you would be pissed. Once was enough for the night. God knows you needed another heart attack.

Humming to yourself, you bent down to grab your lace panties from your bag, turning around only to scream.

A large man towered by the doorway, lingering in the darkness, body hidden in heavy overalls, gloves adorning his hands- a mask on his face.

You nearly dropped your towel, backing up and falling onto the bed. Scream dying in your throat as he got to you in two large strides, gloved hand covering your mouth as the other scooped you up, backside pressed against his large frame.

You whimpered into the leather, hot, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please don't hurt me, please. Please..” you cried, muffled in his glove.

“You’re so pretty when you're scared, baby. You promise you won't scream if I remove my hand?”

You nodded frantically, willing to do anything this stranger told you to save yourself. You hiccuped on your sobs as he slowly removed his hand, instead allowing it to come up and stroke your hair gently as you cried in his arms.

“Shh, shh baby. Not a word okay?” the distorted voice asked and you nodded again, too scared to make a peep.

“You’re so, so pretty when you cry baby. You know that? You’re so hot when you’re scared. The way you held my bicep earlier? Just wanted to pick you up and pound your little body, fuck.”

Realisation dawned on you, eyes widening in shock.

“P-peter?” His arm let go and you stumbled onto the bed, scooting away from him as he took off the mask, revealing that glint of mischief in his eyes, that coy smirk on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick the lower one.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly. He tilted his head, studying you. “Pranking everyone else, like they did last year to us. Just thought I’d stop by to check in on you.” he smiled.

You gulped as the mask thudded to the ground. “Where is everyone else?”

“Oh they're all out. I was hoping some trauma bonding would make Wanda and Matt finally make that move, ya know? Maybe I’m doing them a favour.” he chuckled.

“But why.. Why were you dressed like that?” you asked, clutching your towel tighter to your breasts that poked out at the top as he slowly made his way closer to you.

“Just some harmless fun. Did it scare you?”

“Y-yeah.”

He pouted. “You're so pretty when you're scared. I'm sorry for making you cry sweetheart. You were just too good to resist.” he sighed, thumb brushing your tear stained cheek.

“I-its okay.” you stumbled over your words, flustered at his proximity, body growing hot at his touch and the hungry look in his eye as he stared down at you.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You felt your arousal leaking out of you down your thighs, and your breath was shaky.

You wanted him so bad. But what kind of sick fuck would you be for feeling this way? When he had scared you to death?

He looked you up and down, eyes lingering longer on your breasts, licking his lips hungrily.

He knew. He knew the effect he had on you.

“Now baby, tell me. Did you like that stunt I pulled just now?”

You were silent, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Did I make you flustered? Did that turn you on? Hm?” his low voice sent another pulse down your spine, and you clamped down on nothing. “Mhm.” you nodded.

His fingers gripped your chin, making you jolt with a start as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Do you like how helpless and weak you felt? Cause I did. I could do whatever I wanted to you baby, and no one would even know. It's just you and me.”

You whimpered, making him smirk. You felt yourself being backed up on the bed, Peter hovering over you as you lay flat under him.

You were his now. And fuck, if you didnt like it.

“P-peter-”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you baby? Fuck.”

“I-I wanted you too.” you confessed softly, looking up at him with doe eyes, already starting to feel your brain go fuzzy with his presence.

“Yeah? Even just then? You liked it, didn't you?”

“I.. I did like it.” you bashfully admitted, and he groaned.

“I knew you were a dirty girl. Aren't you? You want me to fuck you baby?” You nodded, hand slithering up to grasp his bicep, the way you knew he liked. He hissed, head dropping down to take a breath.

As if he was controlling himself, like an animal on a leash that threatened to snap. “So little under me. Such a cute lil thing, so breakable.” he sighed to himself as he pulled your hand away, hand lingering on your towel knot.

You met his eyes that pleaded, asking if he could go further. “M’ not breakable.” you murmured, taking his hand in yours to yank the towel loose, letting it come undone around your naked body.

He drank you in, having to reach down to adjust himself in his overalls. “We’ll see about that when I’m done with you.”

His fingers traced your smooth skin, a finger dragging down your abdomen, tapping your inner thighs, making you wiggle. “So responsive. You like when I touch you here?”

You nodded. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me Peter. Please. Need you so bad it hurts, it hur-”

His fingers slid through your slick folds, rubbing your clit gently. “Shh shh that's it baby. You just sit still and I’ll take care of you, mkay? Gonna make you so dumb n helpless.” he cooed at you, your mouth parting in an o shape as his large finger slipped inside you, clenching around the digit.

“Gotta stretch you out. You’re so tight, fuck. Youre so hot, like a fuckin porn star.” Your back bowed off the bed as he worked your clit, the rough pad of his thumb taking over as he pumped two thick digits in you, curling just the way to make you moan.

“Peter, Peter f-fuck, feels so good-” you choked out, his palm splayed on your tummy to keep you from wiggling away.

“Yeah baby you gonna cum? Yeah?” he teased, his fingers slipping out at the last second, making you groan in protest, before he slammed home with his cock.

You gasped, screaming at the fullness, as he watched your face contort from pleasure to pain, back to pleasure again. Your mascara was smudged from your tears and he swore a hint of drool trickled from your lips, and fuck if it didnt turn him on even more.

“Is it too much for you honey? You gonna take it all?”

You couldn't even response, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you, snapping his hips hard and fast, letting the animal off the leash. He couldn't control himself any longer. He had wanted this for too long, and the idea of the two of you being alone, with no one around for miles made him snap his hips harder.

“Yeah you like when I fuck you? Youre so fucking slutty baby, letting some masked man fuck you. But you like it, don't you? I always knew you were a freak.” he growled, making you mewl, clinging onto him.

“Scream baby. No one can hear you.” he chuckled as he abused your cunt, the sound of skin merging with your juices making a squelching sound that mixed with your moans.

“I c-can’t, too much-” you slurred, making him cluck his tongue.

“Cum baby. Cum for me.”

That was all you needed to hear, orgasm rippling through you hard and rough as he continued to fuck you through it.

“Such a good girl. So wet, fuck. Fuck I’m gonna cum, fuck fuck Y/N, you’re so fuckin hot-” he growled, pace faltering as he reached his orgasim, shooting ropes of his sticky seed inside you.

The world was blurry, the room spinning as he stilled inside you, breathing heavily himself as he cooed down at you. “Baby? You with me?”

“Mhgm.” was all you could mutter out, body shaking and twitching from the overstimulation. “I’m gonna go clean you up okay? You gotta let go for two seconds.”

His soft, protective demeanour came back within seconds, as he slowly peeled your grip from his biceps, crescent moon shapes adorning them.

“When we’re all clean I gotta go clean some stuff up with them okay? And then we’ll have the whole place to ourselves and we can rest, pretty girl.”

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starsinthesky5 · 16 days ago

Text

diamond in my eye || joe burrow x reader

description: everybody’s watching her, but she’s only looking at him. in which our lovebirds attend a lakers game in the offseason, and our songbird is asked to sing the national anthem

a/n: blurb as requested! inspired by that adorable photo of him video the mopsters from last week. oh my baby boy...never change

series: you are in love

word count: 2.2k

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyburrrow @joeyb1989 @softburrow @yelenasbraid @burrowbarbie @lovelyburrow @starkeyswomen @grittysbiggestfan @lilfreakjez @fourburrow @definitelynotdomanique

warnings: language, suggestive references

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

the energy in the arena was electric, a current of excitement buzzed through the crowd as they waited for the game to begin. cameras flashed with no end in sight, the jumbotron cycled through shots of celebrities in the crowd, and the unmistakable bass of the stadium speakers hummed through the floor. and funny enough, they were playing out of the woods.

one of her songs.

and joe couldn’t help but hide that cheeky grin of his. knowing that they were playing something of hers, something she worked so hard on, made him the proudest man in that sold-out arena. it wasn’t uncommon for her music to be played like this, but every time he heard it—whether it was in the gym, the grocery store, the radio, here—he was acting like it was the first time. like she was some hidden underground artist getting a shot at the big stage, even though she literally had an autographed basketball in one of the display cases in one of the luxury suites from when she sold out this very arena for her previous tour.

this time, the lovebirds found themselves in LA for a casual off-season getaway, a much-needed breath of fresh air. they had grown restless, tired of staring at the same walls, the same stretches of greenery surrounding their home. the usual drive to columbus had lost its charm, the same college-town nights out feeling repetitive, the same five hiking trails too familiar, the go-to spots for food and drinks no longer holding the same excitement. LA was something new, something different—a change of scenery that felt like a reset, and they were soaking up every second of it together.

they hadn’t had many trips to the city of angels together, so this felt exciting and fresh. something about being here, under the glow of the skyline, the sound of the city wrapping around them, made it feel like a getaway in the truest sense. away from routine, away from the cold, away from the stuffy ohio air. just them, indulging in late brunches, strolling through melrose, sneaking kisses between shopping bags, and slipping into the rhythm of the city as if it was second nature.

joe was beyond excited for the lakers game they were attending tonight—not just because he got to watch one of his favorite sports outside of football, but because he got to do it with his girl by his side. this was the perfect kind of night for him—courtside seats, a cold drink in hand, and her tucked into his side, looking as effortlessly stunning as ever.

a pink alo hat sat low on his head, an attempt at keeping things low-key, paired with a casual hoodie that did its best to help him blend in. but there was no hiding when you were joe burrow. the cameras always found him, flashing his face across the jumbotron, earning a wave of cheers from the crowd. so naturally, he gave a tight-lipped smile and a small wave before turning his attention back to her.

because tonight isn’t about him.

it’s about her.

his songbird, his love, his extremely talented girlfriend, standing center court, mic in hand, poised to sing the national anthem in front of thousands.

he’s seen her perform a hundred times before—just the two of them, in the quiet intimacy of their world. late at night in bed, humming softly against his skin. in the studio, lost in the music, unaware of anything but the melody. in the car, singing along without a care, her voice effortlessly weaving through every note. and when she’s on stage in front of thousands, it’s like she was born for it. she thrives under the limelight, feeding off the electric energy of the crowd screaming her name, basking in the glow of the stage lights like they were made just for her.

but tonight? tonight was different.

she wasn’t in a sold-out arena or stadium with thousands of her fans singing her lyrics back to her. this was a new kind of pressure, a different kind of crowd, and he saw it in the way she rolled her shoulders back, in the way she took a controlled breath before the first note.

and then, she sings.

her voice soars through the arena, effortless and pure, wrapping around each note with the kind of grace that makes time slow down. the crowd becomes silent, entranced by the angelic sound of her voice. phones rise to capture the moment. even the players on the court stand taller, hands over their hearts, their expressions softened by her beauty.

everybody’s watching her.

but she’s only looking at him.

joe feels it the second her eyes find his. a tether, invisible but unbreakable, pulling her back to him even when she’s standing under the pressure of thousands of eyes. he’s never been jealous of her success—he’s in awe of it. but in this moment, with her singing like this, looking at him like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

from his seat, phone out, a huge smile on his face, he records every second, wanting to bottle this moment up forever. she’s breathtaking—like a living, breathing greek goddess, bathed in the golden glow of the arena lights, standing tall in all her glory. he feels it deep in his chest, the way his heart swells with pride until it almost aches. he always knew she was special. but seeing her like this, watching her do what she was born to do? it’s overwhelming in the best way. moments like these were why she did it, why she continued to do it no matter what happened.

it almost makes her laugh, the way he’s watching her like a lovestruck fool, but she bites it back, keeping her composure. still, the sparkle in her eyes gives her away. joe catches it, sees the way her lips twitch like she’s fighting a grin, and he knows.

he looks so damn cute, and she’s never loved him more.

by the time she reaches the final note, the crowd erupts, a thunderous cheer rolling through the arena. she smiles, that radiant, heart-stopping smile, as she dips into a quick curtsy before stepping off the court.

joe’s already waiting for her by their courtside seats, standing before she even reaches him. the second she’s close enough, he’s pulling her in, pressing a kiss to her temple, murmuring, “damn, baby. made me wanna stand up and pledge my heart to you instead,”.

she laughs, shaking her head. “shut up, burrow,” and then presses a kiss to his lips, contradicting her playful annoyance. “did you really record the whole thing?” she asked, peeking at his phone.

“obviously. gotta keep it forever. might even make it my ringtone,”.

she rolled her eyes while laughing, but the warmth in her chest grew with each look at him. “they shoulda played ‘god bless america’ right after, ‘cause god definitely blessed me,” he winked, his eyes trailing over her gorgeous figure. how the jean’s she wore highlighted her perfect ass, how his inital was resting right above her cleveage which was on display because of the lacy corset top she had on. how she was practically glowing in front of him. a true living, breathing, angel right here in the city of angels. and he had the pleasure of going home with her.

could it get any better than this for him? probably not. and he was 100% aware of it.

she groans, but he sees the way she bites back a smile. she nudges his side, slipping into her seat beside him. “you’re ridiculous,”.

“and you,” he says, voice softer now, his hand settling on her thigh as the game gets underway, “are everything,”.

as the game started, they fully leaned into the date night experience. she’s curled up into his side, legs tucked up slightly, one of his arms draped over her shoulders. joe murmurs commentary in her ear, explaining plays and breaking down strategies because he played basketball in high school, even though she already knows most of it. it’s just an excuse to keep talking to her, to keep her tucked in close. they even shared a big tray of nachos, his hand occasionally bringing one to her lips without thinking. she got her revenge by stealing a sip of his soda, the straw lingering between her lips as she gave him a cheeky grin.

“that was my last sip,” he pouted.

“should’ve thought about that before dating a thief,” she grinned.

“mm. you’re lucky you’re cute. the only thing you stole was my heart,” he sighed, leaning close to kiss her cheek while he stole the last bite of the nachos from her.

she had never felt this at ease in a situation like this, and it was all because of joe. stepping back into the public eye after nearly a year away was daunting—there were still moments where the noise felt too loud, where the attention felt suffocating rather than welcoming. but with him, it was different. he made sure she never had to carry the weight of it alone.

he was her anchor, the steady presence beside her, always reminding her—silently, effortlessly—that she was safe. that he was here. and if, for even a second, she felt uneasy, he’d move mountains to fix it. he was the man who’d walk through fire to get to her, who’d shield her from every prying eye if he could. hell, he’d steal someone’s car and get them out of there if she so much as looked at him with a flicker of discomfort.

she wasn’t just easing back into all of this—she was finding her way back with him by her side. and with joe, she knew she’d be just fine.

and the way this night—although tainted by the flashiness of it all—felt like a normal, casual basketball date with her boyfriend?

that made her heart skip a beat. she yearned for this. for casual love. the kind of love she saw in the movies...on the big screens.

and finally. finally it was hers.

as the game went on, they exchanged soft smiles and quiet comments—her making fun of a particularly bad free throw, him pretending to be offended when she called one of the players hot.

but only to make joe feel a teeny bit jealous…because well. it was hot and she needed him to be a little…riled up for later.

then, during the break, the jumbotron continued panning over to celebrities in the audience, and eventually, it landed on them. “oh, great,” she muttered as the camera zoomed in, their faces suddenly lighting up the massive screen overhead.

the crowd cheers as the camera zoomed in on the way she’s nestled into him, his arm wrapped securely around her, fingers tracing absentminded circles on her arm. she glances up at him, and he dips his head, murmuring, “think they’re jealous?”.

“of us?” she teases, then looks around at all the fans in the crowd around her, watching as they held their phones up and screamed her and joe’s names. “definitely,”.

his smile widened, dimples peeking out, and he pressed a slow, heated kiss to her jaw, lingering just enough to make the crowd go even wilder. but then he leaned back, eyes flicking toward the court, smirking like he hadn’t just set the internet on fire with that risque moment. “back to the game, sweetheart.”

she rolled her eyes, knowing full well he was enjoying every second of this.

as the game continues, he steals glances at her between plays, admiring how effortlessly she fits into his world, and how much she’s become the center of it. she’s the diamond in his eye, the brightest thing in the room, and it has nothing to do with the cameras or the lights.

she’s just her—his girl, his heart, his forever.

a little later, there was another break, another jumbotron moment.

this time, the camera lingered a little longer on them, the bright screen making their faces impossible to miss. the crowd roared, the cheers turning into chants, urging something more. joe chuckled, shaking his head before tilting her chin up with two fingers, eyes dark with something deeper than amusement. “guess we gotta give ‘em what they want, huh?” his voice was raspy, teasing, just for her.

before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, his hand splayed warm against her thigh. she sighed into it, fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his sleeve, and for a second, the rest of the world faded away.

the stadium, however, erupted. cheers, whistles, and laughter filled the space around them, but all she could hear was the rush of her own heartbeat. when she finally pulled back, her cheeks were warm, and she shook her head at him, lips still tingling from his touch.

“you’re such a show-off,” she murmured, trying for annoyance, but the way her voice came out soft and breathless? she wasn’t fooling anyone.

joe grinned, the crinkles around his eyes deep, tapping his fingers against her thigh with a cocky ease. “nah, baby. just showing ‘em what winning really looks like,”.

because in a sea of thousands, in a stadium full of eyes, she was the only one that mattered.

the diamond in his eye.

#joe burrow #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow bengals #yail asks #yail #joey burrow #joey b #nfl football #nfl fan fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x you

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1980shorrorfilm · 7 months ago

Text

every road i know

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie thought it was time to solidify your relationship. she might have been wrong.

before you read…inspired by the strangers, minus the killing n stuff. modern day fic. angst with comfort <3

the autumn night is silent, besides the occasional creak of the old miller’s cabin settling into its nighttime routine. you listen to the wind whistling outside, through the tall pines surrounding the small wooden home.

it’s a lonely town, the nearest house a few miles down the road, something vastly different from your shared apartment in the city.

ellie started bringing you here after joel had let it collect endless dust and cobwebs, the woman cleaning it all up for you. whenever life got too busy, chaotic, or hard, this way your getaway. peace. just you and her and the nature that surrounded you.

now, it feels as though it’s purgatory.

the fireplace flickers softly, its glow dancing on the wooden walls, but the warmth couldn’t seem to comfort you. not right now. ellie sits in front of the flames, her silhouette outlined by the orange gentle light.

she has yet to utter a single word to you. the car ride here was silent. even the radio on mute, because ellie couldn’t find the simple strength to turn it up.

the moment is replaying in her mind, over and over, the sad smile you had given her burned into her memory. the thing she’s had anxiety about for the past month. proposing, to you.

the dark velvet box holding the special ring, now lying on the coffee table beside her. a stark reminder of the event.

you’re sat on the couch, chewing your lip, a rose petal in your hand. it’s soft, you find yourself stroking the smooth flower. they cover, nearly, the whole cabin. ellie had thrown the petals around before you had arrived together, trying to make it appear as romantic as possible.

it’s not her strong suit, her appreciation toward you shown in much different ways than typical lovey-dovey things you see on television, but tonight it felt right. long candles garnish whatever surface she could put them on, yellow and smelling like vanilla. they’re not lit.

she assumed she’d spark them when you came back from the long day you had. one that started with your favorite breakfast, ellie waking up extra early to make it as perfect as she could. and she did, you made sure to compliment her repeatedly.

then she took you downtown, viewing places you rarely visited, spending more time admiring you than the other pretty views. what occupied most of your time, was going to a museum she took you to on your first date, reminiscing on how awkward you two were compared to now.

she swears that’s her favorite place, and not just because she’s a nerd, because she now associates it with you.

ellie had took you out to dinner, to your favorite restaurant, hardly eating and claiming she just wasn’t hungry. that was a lie, she just didn’t think she could keep food down. her nerves were washing over her, multiplying when you had finished, and you took a walk near the river, beneath the red trees that blew softly above you.

you had felt her pause in place, holding her warm hand, and you thought maybe the tie had come undone on her sneakers. she had washed them the day prior until her fingers pruned, you found it odd for ellie but didn’t say anything. but that wasn’t the problem. she stared at you like she saw a ghost, and it worried you.

you almost thought this was the end, she was about to tell you those four dreaded words. we need to break up. oh, the idea terrorizes you. that, however, also wasn’t it.

she had whispered inaudible words to herself, then mumbling ‘okay, okay, okay.’

you thought the woman was breaking before you, concern in your eyes, holding her hand tight. then she gulped, trying to get out the rehearsed words that seemed to vanish the longer she stood in your presence.

how much you mean to her. from the very moment you two got paired up for a project that she insisted she’d do all the work for, but you fought back, finding yourself in her bedroom the entire week, the girl studying you more than the work laid out before her.

she found herself by your side all the time afterward.

she needed to be by your side.

she doesn’t know how she lived before you, and if she could live without you— no, insisting she could not live with you. she simply wouldn’t have the will. waking up to a bed you didn’t occupy, not hearing your genuine laughter to her most idiotic jokes, not being able to hold you when you experienced the hardest day of your life.

she couldn’t have that. she needs this…you and her, to last forever. so, she asked those four words that you weren’t prepared for. will you marry me?

to which, you didn’t say yes.

you couldn’t. you love ellie, more than you could ever put into words, you swear on your life that you do, and it didn’t at all reflect your feelings for her. you were just…paralyzed. by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of expectations that you couldn’t hold up to for her. every single insecurity, hitting you at once, in the worst moment it possibly could.

you had said her name in a weak whisper, and ellie gulped, realizing what was happening. a tear slipped from your eye, that she quickly wiped away, reassuring you it was okay. that you’re okay. putting you before her, a habit of hers. bits of her broken heart being blown away in the cool wind that hits you, while she cradles yours.

you walked to the car together in silence, a suffocating fog. a silence that seemed to last forever.

the tension between you two is almost palpable, both of your minds are currently a whirlwind of heavy emotions. a gentle crackle of the fire and ellie shifting in place, makes you finally turn your attention to her. “ellie,” you say her name softly, voice strained as you finally break the unbearable quiet. “can we talk?”

her gaze remains on the fiery flames, her shoulders tense. “we don’t have to,” she replies quietly, “i get it.”

“i don’t think you do,” you lowly say, heart aching at the mere thought of all the negativity running through her precious head, doubts about herself and your relationship. that’s the last thing you could ever want.

ellie swallows thickly, “it doesn’t matter.”

you watch her get up, turning her back to you as she leaves the room. your eyes trail her to the kitchen before you follow her. she doesn’t glance at you as you lean against the nearby counter, watching her grab an expensive champagne bottle.

you assume she bought it just for tonight, she wouldn’t drink it any other time. she won’t even touch a glass of wine. she pops it open, pouring it into one of the two glasses beside it. “i don’t…” you begin to say as she hovers over the other glass, ellie nodding in response. you’re afraid if you drink it you’ll throw up all the nerves inside your system.

“i got your favorite ice cream…if you want that instead,” ellie mentions, tapping her finger on the glass, “went to like…3 different stores. couldn’t find the brand you like.”

she ends the sentence with an attempt at a laugh, finding it so silly now. all the effort, for what? humiliation? pity? she sips on the disgusting drink like it would make her feel better. the only other thing that helps her in trying times, is you; and that’s not exactly possible in this scenario.

“do you…” she pauses, staring at the liquid as she swirls it around, “do you want this…us?”

“of course i do,” you answer her without hesitation, taking a step closer to her, but still out of reach. “it’s not that, ellie,” you tell her, trying to figure out how to inform her it’s you and not her, without sounding like a poor cliche overused excuse.

“it’s just…we’re young…im scared you’re making a mistake,” your voice wavers near the end, ashamed to admit such a thing, that you are her mistake. ellie looks at you like you just spit in her face. she doesn’t know how to interpret the comment, she slightly feels insulted that you would think that she’s making a ‘mistake.’

this isn’t putting a shirt on inside out. this isn’t forgetting to turn the light off when you leave a room. it’s not tripping over your step. it’s her committing herself to you, after five beautiful years attached to you, something she wants hundreds more years of, if that were possible. nothing about that is a mistake.

you’re the love of her life. cementing that is not a fucking mistake.

“is that how you feel?” she flips the script, putting the spotlight on you, feeling like you’re burning beneath it at the accusation. “what?” you whisper, “n-no…no ellie.”

you can’t read her expression, she’s swallowing the rest of her drink, blankly staring ahead.

she ignores your response, “i’ll drive us home in the morning. you should get some sleep.”

she turns away, placing her glass carefully in the sink, resting there for a moment. your eyes are boring into the back of her head as if you could read the thoughts inside it. so many bad thoughts.

you push yourself forward, taking a few quiet steps to her. you plant your feet behind her, wrapping your arms around her body. her breathing is slow, her figure painfully stiff, hugging a tree and not your person. so solid despite the endless embraces where she would melt into you.

you murmur her name, holding her tighter.

ellie can’t resist you.

her hands reach for yours, resting against the center of her torso. her fingers brush against you softly, her breath hitching slightly, before letting out a sigh she’s held in for hours.

just for this moment, the tension settles beneath the old floorboards of the cabin, giving you air to breathe instead of holding in. your hug is so tender, ellie could be lured to sleep by it. and her body is so warm, you’d rather die than pull away.

you wish it could last forever, and the hours prior could be forgotten.

then her phone rings from her back pocket, vibrating against you, and she shifts. you let go, biting your lip, watching her fish the device out. joel. assumingly calling to congratulate her. ellie wishes she never told him, because fuck, this is going to be awkward.

“i uh…should take this,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance when she walks away. you hear the front door open, then shut. you can’t help but walk back into the living room, standing before the window and peeking at ellie, who sat on the porch steps.

you can’t see her face, her head down, a glow from a cigarette, and grey smoke surrounding her figure. it’s clearly not a happy conversation, there was no sugarcoating what had happened. it pains you.

you turn back around, following the rose petals that scattered the floor, all the way down the hall, and stopping at the bathroom. you open the door, turning the light on, eyes falling on the several small candles on the edges of the bathtub. red, grey, and purple, they decorated the space.

ellie really tried to make tonight special.

you stand idly, taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself with shame. a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, knowing it did something so drastic, that the only person they love, finds it hard to look at them.

you quickly turn away.

you run the bath and wait, tugging your top and pants off, kicking them to the side. you strip naked when it fills up completely, steam radiating from the water. you step in, adjusting to the high temperature, before sinking into it. it almost burns you, but not in a way that you mind. you just don’t care right now.

ellie is the only thing on your mind. you wonder if she’s talking about you, openly questioning where your relationship lies, if she thinks it’s even going to last after today.

before you know it, a single tear is falling down your face.

you hug your knees, turning your head and laying your cheek against them. you stare out the open bathroom door, to the wood paneled wall, a framed photo of a deer hung on it.

you forget to blink, spacing out, not noticing the creaking of the front door or the floor. not until ellie is within your view, pausing in the doorway, looking down at you. you’re crying to yourself.

her expression softens, not saying anything when she joins you, kneeling beside the bathtub and touching your face. her thumbs wipe the salty tears from beneath your eyes, but they don’t stop.

“i’m scared, ellie,” you say just above a whisper, ellie only hears you because of how quiet the cabin is. besides the repetitive dripping from the sink. “i’m gonna fail you…” you continue, your voice now giving up on you, “scared’m gonna ruin this…ruin us…you’re so good, ellie— i just —i couldn’t say yes.”

you choke into a sob, her green eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “oh baby,” she says so softly, giving you the time to process your emotions, to let the tears fall while she holds you.

“i can’t…” she stops, gulping and sighing, “i can’t change what you think…but i can promise you that nothing could ever change my mind about you.”

her grip on you is firm, reaffirming, as she continues to speak, “we can wait…i’m willing to wait forever for you. i will show you no matter what happens, i will still love you— i will always love you. i just needed…need you to know that.”

very faintly, your lips twitch upwards slightly, ellie mirroring you the moment she notices. “you’re enough for me,” she says, “just you. that’s all i want.”

ellie is, unfortunately, right; it doesn’t change the tainted mindset you have. that, however, has nothing to do with her. you don’t doubt the things she tells you, you’ve never felt more love from someone in your whole life, and you know for a fact that you never will.

and that’s why it brings you relief, to listen to her, understanding her point of view rather than your own, and the cruel demon on your shoulder whispering harsh words into your ear.

ellie williams is the angel.

it’s not the first time she’s eased the anxiety taunting you, and it will not be the last. she will always be there, rain or shine, you pushing her away or letting her in. she truly means what she says. you’re enough for her. and soon, you will accept that for yourself.

“i really want to hug you right now.”

ellie chuckles, a lightness in the air as she gets up, grabbing a beige towel. you stand, letting her wrap it around you, shivering at the coolness in the air. not caring about the water droplets still coating your body, ellie’s arms are quickly around you, her palm on the back of your head, cradling it gently.

you instantly feel warm again, at peace.

after the moment of serenity ends, ellie is leading you to the bedroom. she grabs your pajamas from your still-packed bag, letting you put them on while she does the same. your eyes fall on her pale back, watching her throw a white tee on, looking away when she turns her head at you.

“was thinking about leaving at 8…wanna beat the traffic,” she says, hoping the statement doesn’t go back to making things awkward. just in case, she adds, “can stop at that pancake place you love.”

you can’t ignore the glum undertones of the suggestion, but you still give her a smile, barely modding your head.

you sit in bed, ellie exiting the room to turn off every light in the lonely cabin, leaving you with your thoughts. you hate it. thinking about how happy the two of you were coming here, compared to you leaving. you don’t even want to leave. you want to shut out the rest of the world, but more importantly, your mind.

how differently things would be right now, if you could just do that.

your eyes meet hers when she enters the room again, and you debate what you’re about to ask her. you can’t help it. “can i see it?”

“hm?” “the ring.”

ellie looks at you, freezing for a moment, stuttering, “y-yea…sure.”

again, she exits the room, grabbing the velvet small box on the table, the one she avoided even sparing a glance at just a minute ago. then she jogs back, scratching the back of her neck. she’s nervous as she approaches you, placing it in your open hands, like it’s a baby.

it’s the first time you’re getting a decent look at it, having been unable to observe it during the moment, and it’s beautiful. it’s simple, yet the green sapphire is so elegant, resembling the way ellie’s eyes look beneath the sun. you smile at it.

“i…can’t return it…if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“i’m not,” you tell her, “it’s gorgeous, ellie.”

you don’t want to give it back to her. it feels…so right, in your possession, that you can’t help but nervously slide it down your finger. there’s a bittersweet smile on your face at how perfect it is. how when you look at it, ellie is the first thing to come to your mind.

your lover, for eternity. your lover that swears to you, that your need for her is as mutual as her need for you, no matter the circumstances, it is permanent. that your worries are just that. worries— self-doubt, and bitter thoughts about yourself, that are only present in the moment. they won't last forever. not like you and her.

with hesitance, you take it off, avoiding her gaze when you give it back to her. “i’ll be ready,” you promise, your finger oddly feeling so lonely despite only wearing it for a minute. “i will…i will be,” you find yourself mumbling, ellie getting closer and grabbing your hands.

“hey, i meant what i said,” her thumbs stroke your skin, reminding you once more, “i can wait forever for you.”

and she means it.

#-🐈‍⬛#ellie williams x reader #also wanted to end this with a knock at the door for spooky szn but im a good person kind of #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie x gn reader #tlou fanfic #wlw fanfic #why are you still reading this? do you want me??

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illiviestrations · 1 month ago

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Caught In The Crossfire

[Mini Comic and Illustrated Rendition]

Inspired by the one and only @solxamber ‘s mafia boss!Vil x mafia boss!Reader fic (linked at the bottom)

Features my Yuusona [Yuumi] as a stand-in for reader

[Transcript]

(Yuumi and Vil are seen talking at a table. Yuumi is sipping from their cup, while Vil is stirring his.)

Vil : Do you need backup?

Yuumi : Wouldn’t hurt.

Vil : I’ll send a few of mine. Not the new ones, obviously.

(Ace is seen slamming a door open, he is wearing a white collared shirt and suspenders. His hair is slicked back, reminiscent of his suitor suit attire.)

Ace : Listen here—

(Vil and Yuumi sigh)

Vil : (I need to talk to Riddle about sending rookies)

Yuumi : *eye roll*

—

Vil : This, is an atrocity.

Yuumi : Vil, it’s crime. Who actually cares what it looks like?

Vil : (stare)

Yuumi : (Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Why did I say that I am going to die—)

—

(Yuumi is seen holding a hanger, previously passed to them by Vil.)

Yuumi : I run an entire criminal empire.

(Is on their 6th outfit of this fitting)

Vil (out of frame) : Yes, and you dress like you rolled out of a getaway car.

[Link to Inspo]

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil x reader #vil x oc #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #yuusona #Vil x yuusona #fanart #inspired by writing

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little-diable · 2 months ago

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Fate's Call - Jake Seresin (smut)

This is very much inspired by something I wanted to happen in my own life lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jake and the reader have been into one another for a while now but life always pushed them away from one another. But he's growing tired of not finally grasping his chance with her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f & m), piv, some degrading, quite sweet though, crushes to lovers

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (2.9k words)

She had hoped that the music filling the car would manage to distract her. She had hoped that the scenery she drove past would manage to rip her thoughts away from him. She had hoped that the excitement the next day would bring upon her would bury the feeling of having him close six feet under. But nothing helped, nothing managed to soothe the sinking feeling deep inside of her.

(Y/n) had met Jake Seresin months ago, crossing paths while he had been on a getaway with friends and she had been on a work trip. They had instantly hit it off, connecting on different levels while time had frozen for a while, allowing the two to get lost in their conversation. Nothing had happened back then, held back by the eventual disappointment she’d feel the second they’d have to part ways the following morning.

Now, months later, their paths had crossed again to grab food while she was in the area for the day, instantly forcing all those feelings to resurface. He was everything she ached for, one of the few she didn’t seem to grow tired of, and yet life had a funny way of keeping them from one another, only offering glimpses of what something more meaningful between them could look like.

Jake had held her tight, hugging her for a few seconds too long, and yet (y/n) had tried to bury herself in his touch, knowing that she needed to soak up every second. She hadn’t been able to rip her eyes from him, hanging onto every word he spoke to try and memorise every single detail he shared with her. (Y/n) was long gone, there was no way out of the trap he had laid out for her months ago, unable to crawl from the grave she was now buried in - no matter how hard she tried to claw at the dark soil.

“Fuck, get a grip.” Her whispers filled the car, momentarily ripping her out of her thoughts. She’d give a lot to see him again, imagining Jake following her to her next destination, set on spending the night with her. Nothing but wishful thinking that left her heart bleeding in ache, wondering if she’d be able to shake this off eventually.

(Y/n)’s eyes flickered down to her phone, fingertips tingling from the need to call him, wanting to hear that southern drawl again she found herself obsessing over. But even though her longing for Jake was strong, the need to protect her heart was stronger, knowing that reaching out would only hurt her some more.

With a sigh leaving her, (y/n) sank further into the seat. It was for the better this way, even though it didn’t feel like it.

…

Her tired eyes kept wandering over the page of her book, rereading the words for the fifth time that evening. She had arrived at her hotel a few hours ago, hiding in the shower to wash away the day and the memories that came with it. (Y/n) let her head fall back against the pillow, dropping the book before she curled herself into the blanket.

It was pathetic almost, unable to understand how a man could have an effect like this on her, unable to think of anything but him. She pressed her hands against her face with a groan, cursing herself for being this weak and confused. But just as (y/n) shuffled around on the bed, reaching for the lightswitch, the sound of a few soft knocks left her freezing. It took her a moment to rise to her feet, walking towards the door to slowly open it.

“Jake?” He had his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, bright eyes focused on her confused features. For a second neither of them spoke, a second that was interrupted as he shot forward with his cold fingers finding her warm cheeks, lips meeting hers for a bruising kiss. (Y/n)’s hands found his jacket, burying her fingers in the soft material to keep him close.

“I couldn’t stay away, I needed to see you again.” Jake mumbled against her lips as he softly pushed her into the room, letting the door fall shut with a soft thud. (Y/n) stared up at him with wide pupils, unable to bite down her grin before she tugged his jacket off his body, trying not to get lost in the sight of him and the addicting scent of his cologne softy wrapping itself around her.

Jake’s hands found the back of her naked thighs, effortlessly picking her up to carry her to the bed, pressing (y/n) down on it. The tension between them prickled, buzzing through their veins like a wildfire set to spread, burning them from inside out. There were too many confessions burning on the tip of her tongue, but (y/n) was unable to express any of them as she was too focused on the way his lips found hers again. He tasted of something familiar, something that made her heart skip beats as she got lost in the feeling.

He pressed his hips against hers, allowing her to feel his growing need for her which drew a groan out of them both. (Y/n) gave him a soft push, burying Jake beneath her to straddle his waist with a smirk growing on her lips. Their eyes held contact as she pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his muscular upper body to her wandering hands. Without breaking eye contact, she kissed her way past his dog tags, down his chest, and to his abs, letting her tongue trace the prominent lines.

“Baby,” it was a clear warning, expressing that he was close to snapping and unable to hold himself back from what he wanted to do to her. “Careful there, I need you to be sure of this before you go any further.”

“I want you, Jake, have been wanting you ever since we met.” It was all he needed to hear before his veiny hand found the back of her head, pulling her back in for a kiss. Her hands moved further down south, undoing his belt before she impatiently tugged on his belt loops. “Can I? I’ve imagined doing this for a while now.”

He was unable to stop a gritty laugh from leaving him, gently pushing (y/n) away to shuffle out of his clothes. Her eyes moved down his naked upper body, focusing on his wandering hands and how he slowly, almost teasingly, exposed his hardening cock to her lust-blown pupils. She crawled to the edge of the bed, sitting back down on her heels before she reached for him.

(Y/n) spat down on his tip, spreading her saliva with her fingers while he choked on a moan. Her eyes kept studying his handsome face, enjoying the clear pleasure tugging on his expression, knowing that she was the one to make him feel like that. She took her time exploring, tongue tracing the prominent vein gracing his cock before she let her tongue circle his tip, tasting the precum pearling on his soft skin.

“Christ, you look so pretty.” His praise left her grinning, batting her lashes at him as she took her time with him. Her need for him only grew stronger with every deep exhale he let go of, knowing that she’d struggle just as much the second he’d bury his head between her thighs.

Jake’s hand kept a possessive hold on the back of her head, keeping her close while getting lost in the new sensation. He wasn’t a stranger to this situation, had lost count on the amount of women that had sucked him off, and yet this felt all too new - almost as if he had never experienced it before.

“Jake,” she mumbled his name while her hand pumped him, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

He froze for a second, staring down at her to see if she truly meant what she had just mumbled. But (y/n) didn’t speak another word, clearly waiting for him to reply. With a nod thrown her way, Jake cleared his throat before speaking up, “Lay down on your back, baby.”

She instantly followed his command, plopping down on the mattress, head hanging off the bed. (Y/n) stared up at him, parting her lips the second he tapped the tip of his cock against her lips. With a deep breath sucked into her lungs, she allowed him to slowly disappear down her throat, gagging around him. But Jake didn’t pull away, he stayed buried inside of her for a few more seconds before he began to fuck her mouth, just like she had asked him to.

“Fuck, you cock-hungry slut, look at you.” It was a pornographic view, a sight Jake was close to taking a picture of to remember this moment forever. She only hummed around his cock while pressing her thighs together, hoping to soothe the ache stretching through her. Jake picked up the speed of his thrusts, forcing her to gag whenever he sank too deep, but (y/n) didn’t protest once as if she knew no boundaries when it came to pleasuring him.

(Y/n) was torn between too many sensations, the sounds he made for her, the feeling of him resting on her tongue, the way her arousal kept soaking her panties. It felt like a dream, finally getting what she had been desperate for ever since her eyes had met his for the first time. But even though her mind was close to spiralling, already fearing what would happen when morning came, she tried to focus on Jake and the pleasure both got from him fucking her mouth.

“Oh, you poor girl, I bet your pussy is begging for my touch, huh?” Another sound left (y/n), turning into a whine as he pulled away from her. Her chest was heavily rising and falling, clinging onto any air she tried to inhale. “Head on the pillow, I need to see if you taste as sweet as I think you do.”

She struggled to move, clumsily turning back around before trying to make herself comfortable on the mattress. Jake found his way back between her thighs, pulling her shirt over her head before her panties were pulled down her legs. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked body made her chuckle, high on the confidence his gaze alone made her feel. But before she allowed him to explore her body, she pulled him back in for a kiss, tongues getting tangled as the kiss grew more desperate.

He parted from her with a heavy exhale, lips kissing her stomach before wandering down to her heat, brushing his tongue through her slit to taste her. Both moaned in unison, Jake from her taste and (y/n) from the way his skilled tongue made her feel. One of his hands found their way up her body, grasping her breast to knead her flesh while he buried his face in her cunt.

Jake lapped at her folds, picking up on the way she was dripping for him from sucking him off earlier, clearly just as done for as he was. His fingers took care of her pulsing bundle, using just enough pressure to make her arch her back, hips pushing her closer to him. He made a silent promise to eat her out all through the night, after fucking her into oblivion just like both had imagined doing for a while now.

“Jake,” his name was whispered into the dimly lit room, echoing off the walls as if a silent omen had been spoken. Both were about to form a bond so strong, neither of them would be able to break from it any time soon. “Need your fingers.”

He smirked against her warm skin, eyes flickering up to her features as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. Without needing any guidance from her, he found her swollen spot, fingers curled against it to draw another whine from her. (Y/n) had her eyes closed, solemnly focused on Jake and the feeling of her body being tossed into soaring waves of arousal, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for her to cum.

With his lips sucking on her bundle and his fingers fucking her with just enough speed to make her tremble beneath him, (y/n) could only thank her lucky stars for pushing her towards Jake. But just as her thighs began to shake, about to fall into her orgasm, he pulled away with an all too satisfied grin.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby,” his hand found her chin, forcing her to keep looking at him with teary eyes. “You didn’t think I’d let you cum for the first time on anything but on my cock, did you?”

She didn’t reply, could only push her lips against his to taste herself on his tongue. Jake kept kissing her for a few moments, supporting his weight with his hands pressed to the mattress before he parted from her. (Y/n) watched him for a second, pondering over her choices before speaking up, “I’m on the pill. I want to feel you, Jake.”

He stared at her for a second, unable to stop his groan from leaving him. Jake wasn’t one for fucking bare, but with her he’d do it all, needing to feel her without anything between them. Slowly, he found his way back to her to brush his cock through her slit before he finally pushed into her.

“Oh, fuck,” (y/n) choked on the words, eyes rolling back into her head at the intense feeling. Jake perfectly stretched her, making her walls flutter around his cock as she desperately tried to adjust. He had felt big stuffed down her throat but now she felt fuller than ever before, struggling to take all of him.

"C'mon, baby, you did so well sucking my cock, don’t tell me you’re struggling now.” His words dripped with something condescending, forcing a whine from her as she tried to breathe through the intense sensation. Jake gave it another push, finally burying all of him inside of her with a heavy groan while he pressed his forehead against hers. “Atta girl, see, I knew your pussy was greedy for my cock.”

He slowly pulled out of her, only to push back in with more force, building a rhythm that had her trembling within seconds. She wanted to freeze the moment, desperate to relish in every second offered to her. But the way Jake’s thrusts seemed to grow even deeper stole all those thoughts right from her.

“Oh, Jake,” he hummed, sucking on her neck to shoot some more shudders down her back. (Y/n)’s fingernails scratched at his muscular shoulders, trying to stop the intense sensation from drowning her too soon. Her mind began to focus on the sounds leaving him, on the feeling of their skin meeting with every thrust. Jake looked at her with something almost sweet swimming in his pupils, seemingly caught up in his spiralling thoughts.

“I know, baby. I got you.” His dog tags met his naked chest with every thrust, like a pendulum foretelling their future. She could only pray that life meant it well with them, hoping that this wouldn’t be the only time they’d find back together.

(Y/n) loved the way he felt on top of her, chest pressed to hers while they got lost in their longings. He managed to hit the right spot with every thrust, drawing groans out of them both in unison whenever her walls clenched around his cock. Sounds so sinful left the both, she could only hope nobody nearby managed to pick up on them.

“‘M close, Jake.” She sneaked one hand between their bodies, rubbing her bundle to give her the needed push. A string of fucks left her as she came with Jake following her right down the edge, imprinting himself on her walls. She felt him twitch inside of her, ripping a moan out of them before he slowly pulled out of her.

“Lick yourself off of me, baby.”(Y/n) tried to ignore the heat crawling up her spine, staring up at Jake for a second before she began to shuffle around. Her eyes flickered back up to his bright pupils before she parted her lips to house him back inside her mouth.

She sucked him clean, tasting herself on his cock with a moan clawing through her. Jake pulled her off his cock with a harsh tug seconds later, lips finding hers for one last messy kiss before he pulled her into his chest.

“I hope you’re not tired yet, I want to make the most out of this night.” He mumbled into the room, hand tightening its hold on her as she chuckled, only able to nod her head while she gave in to another wave of excitement already stretching itself through her.

#Jake Seresin smut #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin imagine #top gun #top gun maverick

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straylightdream · 5 months ago

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reputation - look what you made me do

this is a series of shorter one shots with some of the boys that are inspired by reputations songs by Taylor Swift. All of these stories will be 18+ with adult content and have smut in them. If you would like to be tagged in all stories or a specific boys please fill out this form.

if you would like to help me decide which song each boy will get please fill out this form.

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐥 (𝐬.𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐬)

dancing with our hands tied

↳ You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it. I had a bad feeling, and darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, secret lovers, office romance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dirty talk, oral male receiving, big dick cheol, size kink (cheol is big and the mc loves how it feels), nicknames: baby (mc’s), sir (his).

𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧

loading…

𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠

delicate

↳ Long night, with your hands up in my hair. Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs. Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship, cam girl reader,non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much angst, emotional joshua, unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), creampie, body worship, jealous joshua, oral (both rec), slut shaming not by joshua, recording sexual acts, masturbation, anal play, use of a butt plug

𝐰𝐞𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐢

so it goes…

↳ Getting caught up in a moment. Lipstick on your face, so it goes. I’m yours to keep and I’m yours to lose.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: camgirl reader, anonymous camboy jun, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), camgirl reader, creampie, snowballing?? kind of anonymous camboy jun, dirty talk, oral (male rec), recording sexual acts, fingering & handjobs, thigh riding, masturbation, nicknames: (hers) baby, baby girl, (his) baby

𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 (𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢)

…ready for it?

↳ In the middle of the night, in my dreams. You should see the things we do, baby. In the middle of the night in my dreams

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: intercourse (p in v) oral (fem rec), so much dirty talk, sex dreams, rough and passionate sex, soonyoung is boob obsessed like this man is obsessed, body worship, body insecurities, the mc is soft and has curve, the mc and Soonyoung are down bad.

𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨

king of my heart

↳ I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own. I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone. We met a few weeks ago. Now you try on callin' me "baby" like tryin' on clothes.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmates?, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: they’re both so down bad for each other, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cum play, body worship, breast play (wonwoo is boob obsessed), praise kink, glasses kink?(mc gets really turned on by wonwoo glasses), nicknames: baby (both)

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 (𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐢)

dress

↳ Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, secret lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much angst, moody jihoon, unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), creampie, breeding kink, body worship, jealous jihoon, oral (both rec), drinking

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐦𝐢𝐧 (𝐝𝐤)

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𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮

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𝐱𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝟖)

don’t blame me

↳ I would cross the line. I would waste my time. I would lose my mind. They say, "She's gone too far this time."

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: stripper reader, non idol au, sugar daddy minghao

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (mc is on birth control), choking, lingerie kink, hand job, stripping for money, talks of exchanging sex for money. Body worship, slut shaming (not by minghao), protective hao, pussy whipped hao

𝐛𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐧

loading…

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐥 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐰𝐞

getaway car

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: neighbors to lovers, rebound loved, no idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, emotional cheating, protected sex, oral (both receiving), starting to the sex in the shower, very vanilla fluffy smut

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 (𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐨)

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fillinforlater · 1 year ago

Text

On her back

Male Reader x Bae Joohyun

Length: 2958 words

Tags: Daddy kink, Master kink, breeding kink, literal breeding, like impregnation, rough sex, mating press (for literal, REAL mating), from loving to degradation, emotional manipulation, teasing, overstimulation, multiple creampies, spitting, toxic relationships

TW: rough impregnation, emotional manipulation, the usual "On her" stuff

Inspiration/Credit: not possible without @sooyadelicacies, my great co-writer and inspirator

(A/N: Reminder that OC is an asshole and that this is fiction. Anyways, rough daddy kink breeding sex, yay. Enjoy a subby!Irene lol. Btw, it's been more than a year since Part 1 came out!)

“I’m here if you need a break from all these youngsters xoxo”

You are alone in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz, quietly sipping on a cool, refreshing beverage with your airpods in. You need to destress and know just the person to see. You put your drink down and begin to close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap before you arrive at your destination.

Maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was much longer than that, but you feel the car stop and you begin to wake.

"We have arrived, sir."

Looking out, you find a beautiful secluded home surrounded by lush greenery. One of your many getaways.

"Thank you, as always," you say politely as the door opens up for you and you're handed your luggage. You stroll up to the door and put in the passcode as well as the biometric scan of your fingerprint. But before you turn the knob, the door already opens and you are greeted by a stunning beauty.

"Irene," you say simply.

"Hello, my love."

"It's been a while," you add, a sigh on your lips, but you keep it down.

"It really has," the small woman responds, hands fidgeting on her sides as she just stands there, her boundless beauty that will persist for decades to come filling the air like the strong, vibrant smell of ripe fruits.

"God, you're so fucking pretty."

This time, the sigh is at least palpable in the aftermath of your words when your arms reach out to her. Joohyun tenses up for a seconds before your embrace reaches her, caresses her back and finds rest on her butt. With ease, you pick the petite idol up and Joohyun's legs instinctively wrap around you.

You kiss her gently, lovingly. "Still tensing up? I thought I trained it out of you?" you tease.

She blushes. "It's been a long time, Ma—"

"Shh, not yet. There will be time for that. I need my lover right now, not my toy."

A soft smile on her face. One in a million, quite literally: days and weeks and months go by where she can never feel like this around someone else. They all make her put on the cold, reserved, distant smile, but with you finally by her side, she melts.

At least the temperature of her palms cupping your face is able to melt ice in seconds. Joohyun leans close to you and presses her lips on yours, her passion coming over you in a quiet explosion. A tad bit quicker, a little more tongue when she parts your lips, now you pull her in closer.

"God, I've missed this," she coos and you brush away her astray hair.

"I have been busy... the young ones are quite—"

"Difficult? Always have been. Think of me back then."

You can't help but smile at the memories, though they also make your cock twitch against its cotton prison. Joohyun giggles. She must feel it poking her exposed midriff.

"Those were fun times, but you know I'm still as tight as ever, only with more experience now. I promise I'll take away all of your stress today."

"I know you will. That's why you know of this place. It's a short list, Irene."

She smiles happily and melts her lips into yours once more.

With her secured around you, you wander off, straight to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything on your way. There are easily a hundred idols you'd just violently throw onto a bed like this and then destroy their tight pussies, but with Joohyun you remain careful for now. Lay her down on it, never disconnecting your lips.

Joohyun starts to undress immediately and instead of following suit, you decide to watch her. Many months ago was the last time you've seen her bare body—at least in real life, up close. There are dozens of videos you've filmed with her and she even sent nudes last month, a rarity for the outwardly timid idol.

"You're skin," you groan and reach for her bare tummy, then breasts. "Still porcelain, still smooth and perfect."

"Th-thank you. I made sure it's perfect, just for you."

"Not for the fans, not for the members? Not for your own self-gratification?"

"Only for you, my Master."

There she goes.

"Music to my ears. Hearing such obedience. It's rare to find that nowadays, I wonder if my methods are getting stale?"

You muse, but she knew it was your way of asking for her opinion, her advice. Bae Joohyun was an intelligent woman and admirable leader after all, and she knew all the tricks in the outside idol world and in your bedroom.

"Are you concerned about the outcome, even with all your leverage? Or is it getting too boring for you?" Before Joohyun can continue, you rub in between her legs, over her modest panties to find a little bit of wetness there. Joohyun opens her mouth; no moan, no breath, she just sinks into the sheets. "I-I just don't see the problem."

"They are just so damn cocky and continue to be. Disobedience, arrogance, self-centeredness, it's all running rampant nowadays."

"We weren't any better back then."

Press a finger onto her pussy lips, the fabric disappearing a bit into the increasingly aroused hole.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Ye-yes, Master. Suzy, IU, Jennie, even I—we were all a lot of trouble for you. I remember the reeducation training with Jessica and Nana. Maybe some things never change—ah, fuck."

Joohyun moans when your tongue trails along the side of her body, up to her collarbone where you place kisses. She is now trapped underneath you and with all your experience and ease, you join her in her (almost) nude state.

Instead of your finger you place a knee on Joohyun's covered heat and she instinctively grinds on it and loses herself in needy, desperate, good girl whines. She starts to pout and you rake your fingers through her hair like—

"Like in good old times." Your deep groan fills Joohyun with love.

"Yes, Master."

"You know how to grind on this knee. You know how to make yourself look submissive. You know how to combust into nothing but bliss when I just command you too.

"Don't you, Irene?"

"Y-yes, Master! You're so good to me."

Joohyun hesitates and whimpers for a moment, looking at you.

"Master… call me Joohyun please. Irene is for everybody else, but I am Joohyun and I am yours, my Master. Your whore, your slave."

The shortlist came with perks. She could make such requests of you.

"Jennie was one of the worst, but she is one of my biggest sluts, so I guess it only makes sense." You think out loud.

"Joohyun, is it true Red Velvet will have their last comeback soon?"

She can only nod and hum.

"I'll have to fuck you after then too… to breed you."

Her eyes widen and you feel a great dampness in her folds.

"Master, it will finally be my turn?"

"We've discussed this before."

"I-I know… but I said you could breed me before then. You know I would give up my career for you, Master. I only wish to be your cumdump."

There she goes, melting into a shape you have foreseen years ago. Of course she has been ready for it, but the time is right right now.

"Good girl."

You pull aside her panties and give her pussy lips tiny smacks. Joohyun starts to mewl and whimper in this perfect pitch, the pitch only your hand can make her reach.

"M-Master, hng!"

"This hole is ready to be bred." Indeed, you find it to be exceptional compared to even to your best youngsters, perfect, especially the wetness is extraordinary. "Now spread your legs and tell me how much you need it."

"Master, I've needed it since I underwent your training. I didn't allow any man to touch me but you, Master. I am pure. I-I stopped any form of contraceptive. I've been waiting. I'm ready to walk away from being an idol because all I want is you, Master. I see comments online, I know people call me Mommy because of my age and looks, but the only Mommy I want to be is for your child, Master. Breed me please. I am your good girl. I always have been. This whore, this slut, needs her Master to complete my training, to make me your breeding bitch."

You deem these words to be enough, excessive even. There was no need for all of them to be said out loud, you could clearly see it in her eyes, the wanton desire for your cock creaming inside her. Some people might call it cruel to her, but the last person to call it cruel is Joohyun herself.

You penetrate her gracefully, something she has not experienced ever. There was always a need to destroy her pussy; after all, Joohyun was once a defiant bitch. Nothing of this is left as she ecstatically welcomes you inside, dopamine flushing her brain, passion in the way she moans, laughs when you bottom out.

"Daddy!"

"Squeeze tight, Joohyun. I need you to make me cum as often as you can and keep it all down, so you better be the tightest girl ever tonight."

"I'm Daddy's tight girl, just breed me and I'll not lose any of your seed."

"Stick your tongue out."

Joohyun does as told and you let some of your saliva spill out onto your tongue before it oozes down to her. You always found her cock drunk expression thrilling, this one probably being its greatest form when you start to thrust into her as she still tries to catch your gift.

She pouts, as your saliva misses her just a bit and drips on her body.

"If they saw you now—Irene, everyone's ice queen—reduced to nothing but my personal whore, a Daddy and Master kink too? Some people think you're a bitch in how you behave and treat others. They are right in a way, aren't they darling?

“You are my bitch.”

"Ma-Master, you are right," Joohyun moans, her response interrupted by ragged breaths. "I-I'm your bitch, a bitch in heat. Do-do you like the hot pussy of this ice slave?"

Has she always been this humorous? A circle around her clit, just a rub, and her eyes are wide open. Joohyun looks so different in bed, a different kind of gorgeous from her stage presence during songs with the velvet-concept. You appreciate both, but this is clearly your favorite.

"Good that it's still tight," you groan and pound her harder. "I bottomed out a thousand times and still your grip is... fuck."

"Yes, Master, please praise my pussy more!"

"Isn't this enough praise, bitch?" you say in rhythm to slower but significantly harder thrust, the type to make inexperienced girls limp and screaming. Not Joohyun, she takes it well, though her voice still breaks at the rough pleasure forced upon her needy sex.

Joohyun stretches her arms out, holds onto the frame of the bed while you force her feet further apart and higher in the air. She looks stupid, an embarrassing position for an idol of her class to be in.

"Yes, Master!" she suddenly howls when your finger presses into the flesh of her thighs. "I don't want to dance anymore, make me unable to dance!"

"When I'm fucking done with you, don't even think about getting out of bed." You lean down to her sweaty, burning face and nibble at her jaw. "Don't move on your own before I've filled your entire womb!"

"Yes, Master.” Joohyun struggles to catch her breath, her words somewhere up in the air along with your face deliberately drooling down on her. “It's time isn't it? Please make me pregnant. I've been waiting for so long, Master, I've been patient and good—"

"In due time, Joohyun, but you will take it all the way in your womb until you're dripping and spilling seed everywhere. One day.” Your promise is sincere, partially because Joohyun’s rippling pussy has your voice a bit strained. Rejecting her would be pointless, really, her pussy could just will you in and if she’s really not taking contraceptives—

“I've heard your contracts are up in the air. Are you really going to throw it all away for your Master?"

Joohyun puckers her lips for you to kiss, barely able to squeeze out words through them and her forced out moans.

"Yes, M-Master! I don't care about the contracts, I only want your child."

"Then show me that cute little face," you say, teasingly leaning down to her lips searching for yours but not getting them. "The one you make when you cum on my cock like the good slut I trained you to be."

Joohyun is almost at that point of peak devotion, where she can almost will herself to an orgasm just from your command, but it's still too many almosts. You still have to lay a hand on her clit, the other on her waist and move both your hips and hands in quick, stimulating fashion until Joohyun squeaks like it's her first time in your bedroom.

The night you tamed her, many, many moons ago, was a great achievement, because you know she would still be drop dead gorgeous when you decide to do this to her. Without giving Joohyun any signs of your imminent orgasm, you cream her the moment the pleasure over takes her.

Her cute expression of bliss and submission to your superior frame is flooded with ecstasy and pride when you flood her cavern and womb with a thick load that is meant to stick inside her and eventually form a baby. Joohyun frantically holds onto your arms stabilizing her ever twitching body, her glassy eyes looking at you in reverence and servility.

"Th-thank you, Master," she whispers, her face and chest flushed with happiness, both a bit puffed from pride and soreness as her walls still milk you. "It feels so warm."

"I know what you're feeling," you coo into her ear and feel her burn up even more. "Finally, no condom, no contraceptive, nothing blocking my seed from blooming in your tight tummy. Every orgasm before this pales in comparison, because this one was real.

"So I'm giving you more."

"Ma-Master, I don't deserv—ahh!"

You put every vampire to shame when you furiously bite down on a pale sweet spot between Joohyun's neck and shoulder. Unlike vampires however, the faint taste of blood pulls you back to reality, that it's better to just fuck Joohyun's cum-filled cunt deeper than getting your teeth into her deeper. Nonetheless, the euphoric girl has both arms around you and tightly clings to you.

"Ma-Master," she cries out. "I ca-can't take it any-anymore."

"Don't care," you growl, empathy foreign to you. "I don't care if your pretty feet or legs or hips go numb. You'll take my cock until I want to stop."

You glare at her, eyelids hiding sniveling, tears begging for mercy as once again, overstimulation breaks her. What a weakness to still have. It’s part of Joohyun, sure, but you thought she would’ve grown past it, especially for this moment.

"You wanted this Joohyun. You wanted Master to breed you. You begged for it, don't you fucking bitch to me now. Did I make a mistake in choosing you? Are you really ready to give up your idol career if you can't handle me like this?"

Every word sliced into her. It's been ages since you broke her down like this, not just physically and sexually, but verbally. It was like she was your trainee all over again, a dominant, crushing hand on her throat, an unrelenting pelvis crashing down on hers.

"I will fuck you for however long I want..."

You pause for a moment and choke her even harder.

"Suzy can take it. Why can't you?"

"I can, Daddy!” Joohyun screams, finally fighting for herself against herself. “Make me a baby mommy, don't listen to my stupid mouth. You, you own this pussy!"

Feel Joohyun's pussy struggle to take all the cock and cum when you fold her to a painful degree and watch her face become just a canvas for tears. It's also red, like her bleeding shoulder or her round butt which you spank over and over again, red like her sore pussy lips or her insides.

"Good thing that you're still tight," you scold Joohyun and spit at her face. "At least your pussy is trying to make your real dream come true."

"Master, I'm cumming."

"Shut up. I don’t care. Put your own fingers around your throat. Spread your pussy lips. Look at me, while I destroy you.

"While I end your career, Irene."

A second load, pumped and mixed into the first and ultimately overflowing from Joohyun's gaping hole. The moment you pull out, she knows that this will be it. She is going to be pregnant, no way around it.

You gently cup her face, look at an expression of bewilderment, hurt, happiness, sadness, pain, confusion. Not the first time that you've destroyed a young woman like this while making her pregnant. A kiss to ease the pain a bit, she thinks, but it's just a set up for a reality check.

"I'm a bit disappointed," you tell her. "I needed your full devotion, but it seems you have forgotten how to take a second load.

"That said, I don't regret it. You're beautiful and ready. I think your group deserves one more comeback, then you can tell them what happened."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"You can stop choking yourself, by the way."

"Yes, Daddy. I-I love you."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #red velvet smut #irene smut #bae joohyun smut #joohyun smut #red velvet irene smut

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