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lukesaprince · 27 days

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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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ellecdc · 1 month

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James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?

this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader

poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF

This was obviously a bad idea.

You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.

There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”

You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.

You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.

“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.

Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.

But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds.

You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.

But James was taken; three times over.

And what a sodding group they were.

Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you.

And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.

And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-

No.

No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.

You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you.

“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity.

Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.

And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.

“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”

You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.

Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.

“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you.

You felt momentarily grateful for her.

And then she spoke again.

“Then none of us will get to look at her.”

Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much.

“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”

“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.

You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them.

They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?

Surely not.

Of course not.

What a ridiculous thing to think.

But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.

Maybe one more glance?

Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.

They were watching you leave?!

Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day.

You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.

“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”

Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…

But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you.

“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.

“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.

And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.

But in your defence…

In your defence, Remus was man handling you.

And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people.

You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!?

You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.

Until it got to the Marauders.

Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.

“Moony!”

Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously.

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”

You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.

No matter if they complimented you.

No matter if they caught you as you fell.

No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.

No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.

No matter.

“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.

Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?

You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.

James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.”

You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.

It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.

“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?

Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.

“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.

His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”

You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.

“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.

“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.

“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours.

It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.

You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.

“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.

“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.

“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink.

The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers.

You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.

“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.

Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.

“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”

read about their first date here!

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lovetwist · 2 months

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Veil of Deception (I)

SYNOPSIS: In a world where political alliances are forged in blood and treachery lurks around every corner, you find yourself thrust into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen. Born to be his perfect mate, you grapple with the terrifying prospect of becoming entangled with a man known for his brutality, obsession, and madness. As your union unfolds, you navigate a landscape of deception and dark desires, struggling to find your footing in a marriage fraught with danger and uncertainty. Caught between duty and defiance, summon your strength and resilience to survive in a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a dangerous game.

WARNINGS (R18+): mildly dub-con, smut, first time, weapons kink, mentions of violence, manipulations, genetic breeding, power play

Word Count: 3.5k

PART 2

Below the towering spires of obsidian and steel, against a backdrop of opulent extravagance that flaunted wealth and power, a tension hung heavy, pregnant with the promise of destiny.

As Lady Atreides, sole daughter of Leto Atreides, you stood poised on the precipice of a meeting that would shape the course of your future. Your heart seized with nerves as you awaited the arrival of your betrothed.

Since your 15th name day, you had known of your engagement to the na-Baron. It was an inescapable fate predetermined by the Bene Geserrit. Your mother, Lady Jessica, had gone against them by giving birth to Paul, a male heir for Leto. Two years later, she gave birth to you – a gift of compromise for both sides. In return, Lady Jessica and Leto achieved the familial harmony they wanted, through the sacrifice of their daughter.

Every year, the Harkonnens requested your portrait to be sent along with a lock of hair. In exchange, they sent House Atreides jewels, gold, silks, and spice; disguised bribes for the upkeep of such a fine lady. They had only sent a portrait of Feyd-Rautha once. It was taken during his coming-of-age ceremony, a lean young man dressed in black fighting leathers. You stared often at the picture, looking to find some clue that could reveal his character. His demeanor was unnaturally cold and collected, yet his dark eyes barely concealed a burning rage. You wondered if Feyd-Rautha poured over you pictures as you did his.

Years passed and the engagement felt more like a false formality than reality. Unlike other noble families, you never exchanged letters with Feyd-Rautha or even met as a courtesy. Having completed your Bene Geserrit training under your mother, you learned that such things did not matter when it came to pairings arranged by the Reverand Mother. You caught whispers of conversation between your mother and her Bene Geserrit sisters. There would be no chance of failure, this union would be perfect. You were genetically engineered to be his absolute mate. Attraction and physical compatibility was assured. Everything about you was designed to lure him in – your scent, your voice, your everything was to be his undoing from the moment he would lay eyes on you.

Yet the thought gave you no confidence as you stood here now in Giedi Prime. Sexual attraction differed greatly from love, he didn’t need emotions to breed you. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen, was a man followed by countless stories of brutality and wickedness. You heard that he laughed when Reverand Mother subjected him to the Gom Jabbar. He didn’t endure pain, he reveled in it.

Your palms grew clammy, breath becoming increasingly shallow as you pondered the dark fate that awaited you in the form of this formidable man. Would Feyd-Rautha be the embodiment of all the whispered sin that had reached your ears, or would he prove to be an enigma beyond your wildest imaginings? With each passing moment, the anticipation mounted, weaving a delicate web of uncertainty around your heart as your braced yourself to meet the man who held your destiny in his hands.

The grand doors of the chamber swung open with a regal flourish, your heart quickened its pace, echoing the rhythm of anticipation that thrummed through the air. Through the gray haze of incense, you beheld Feyd-Rautha, a vision of masculinity and charisma, whose presence seemed to command the very essence of the room. His eyes met yours across the expanse of the chamber, a charged moment filled with unspoken tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of this meeting.

You were ensnared in a tempest of conflicting emotions, thoughts swirling like sand caught in a desert storm. You questioned your own composure, wondering if you could maintain the facade of confidence expected of a lady of House Atreides in the presence of the young Harkonnen and the terrifying Baron. Feyd-Rautha may be your future husband, but he was not required to provide you a good nor happy life. After all, why would he? You were the daughter of his family’s sworn enemy. He may have been bound in marriage to you by centuries of bloodline manipulation, but he maintained a free will.

Would his words falter, betraying the tumult and hatred raging within him? Or would he summon the grace and poise befitting his station, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface? Your apprehension mounted, a symphony of doubt and fear playing out in the recesses of your mind. Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered like a distant star on the horizon, urging you forward into the unknown with a quiet resolve born of necessity.

For in the labyrinthine dance of politics and power that defined their world, you knew that you could ill afford to falter now. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and prepared to face your destiny, whatever form it may take in the guise of a madman husband.

Feyd-Rautha, with an air of effortless confidence, strode forward, his gaze a smoldering ember that ignited a spark within your soul. In that fleeting moment, as your paths converged amidst the darkness and mist of the surroundings, you felt a surge of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—an electric current that crackled between your bodies, binding your fates together inextricably.

Words eluded you as you struggled to articulate the wave of emotions that threatened to consume you. Yet, in the silence that stretched between you two, you found solace in the understanding that this meeting was but the first step on a journey fraught with uncertainty and possibility. He bowed without taking his eyes off you. In greeting, you extended a gloved hand, Feyd-Rautha grasped it with a firm sense of resolve. You knew that your lives were now intertwined in ways neither could fully comprehend nor stop.

And in that moment, amidst the hazy dream of your shared future, you glimpsed the faintest flicker of something akin to desire dance across his eyes. You noticed a dilation of his pupils as he laid a kiss on the back of your hand. Then, his grasp of you tightened and tightened. Your face contorted in pain as a crooked smirk appeared on his features.

In the dim light of the chamber, your eyes traced the contours of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips, searching for traces of the young man you once memorized in a portrait. Yet, try as you might, only a beast stood before you in the guise of a gentleman. When he stood at his full height with his darkened leer, you held yourself back from cowering. His gaze was vicious, his smile vulgar with blackened teeth, and he exuded an air of savagery.

“How delightful it is to finally meet you, Lady Atreides.”

His deep, raspy voice caught you off guard. What a performer he could be! Long gone was the ethereal allure he displayed when first entering the room, now you could see him for what he was.

“Likewise, my Lord Feyd-Rautha.”

Uncertainty lingered like a specter in the room, casting a pall over the impending union that would bind you with him. You let your gaze lower onto the floor as your parents approached to talk with the Baron and na-Baron.

You could feel his intense gaze burning through your body even as you moved away to be with your brother. Could his eyes pierce through your facade, unraveling the intricacies of your soul like fine thread? Such questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, casting shadows on your will to remain strong.

As the evening progressed, the tension in the air thickened like a fog, suffocating any semblance of ease. Seated at the long banquet table surrounded by your family, the Harkonnens, and noble guests, you found yourself ensnared in a delicate dance of propriety and peril.

Across from you, Feyd-Rautha lounged in his seat, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he watched you with unabashed fascination. His demeanor was that of a predator toying with its prey, his every movement calculated to instill a sense of discomfort. Your family would leave to Arrakis after the wedding festivities, then you would be truly left alone with him. The precariousness of your position tugged at your heart.

As the meal commenced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the strained chatter of polite conversation. You forced yourself to engage in small talk with those seated around you, your words measured and careful, lest you betray the fear that coiled like a serpent in the pit of your stomach.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by those dark, probing eyes. It was as if Feyd-Rautha could see straight through you, peeling away the layers of pretense to expose your most secret vulnerabilities. You found yourself growing increasingly unsettled. You longed to escape, to retreat to the safety of your chambers and away from the suffocating presence of the Harkonnen heir.

But you knew that there would be no reprieve, no sanctuary from the darkness that had descended upon your life like a shadow. For tonight, and every night thereafter, you were bound to him by the cruel machinations of fate, condemned to walk a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. And as you raised your glass to Feyd-Rautha’s toast to your impending union, you couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited you.

“To the most beautiful bride in the world, I will certainly savor tomorrow’s…memories.”

The men at the table chuckled darkly while your father’s and brother’s jaws clenched. You lay your delicate hand over theirs, do not mourn me. If I am to die, I shall do so with honor.

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

As your mother lowered your veil, you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You never thought you’d live to see the day the impenetrable Lady Jessica shed tears for you. I must really be walking into my death, you thought.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. There were no words to describe the vision you saw. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, your wedding gown exuded an air of majestic elegance with flowing skirts cascading like waves of moonlight around your figure.

The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace, hugged your curves with a tailored precision, accentuating a slender waist and graceful neckline. A row of tiny diamonds trailed down your body, gleaming against the smooth expanse of your back. While the front of the dress was conservative, your back was tastefully exposed through a combination of sheer silk, diamonds and pearls.

Your hair was pinned neatly into a bun with a delicate braid on each side. The veil was gauzy, making your face seem like a daydream. The ivory fabric of your dress pooled at your feet in a sea of frothy tulle and satin, forming a train that trailed behind you like a regal cloak. The wedding dress was embroidered with delicate motifs of growing vines, mountains and ocean waves – a reminder of Caladan.

At your collar, a border of intricate lacework added a touch of timeless elegance, its patterns catching the light in a dazzling display of shimmering beauty. With every movement, the gown seemed to whisper tales of romance and splendor, a clear hope to the love and devotion the seamstress had prayed you’d find. You choked down a sob.

You’ve made me an angel for him to ruin.

The wedding hall was adorned with such grandeur, you’d expect the emperor’s daughter was getting married instead. The flickering silver torches cast dancing shadows upon the ebony stone walls. As guests gathered in hushed reverence, the air crackled with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves whispered of your impeding damnation.

At the front of the hall, beneath a canopy of arched black silk, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stood, an imposing figure in his ceremonial garb. His porcelain skin was stark against the darkness of his clothes as he awaited his bride.

You approached with measured steps, hardening your grip on your father’s arm. Your eyes must’ve betrayed your fear and resignation because you could see Feyd-Rautha biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.

As you reached the altar, his lips curled into a predatory smile, his voice dripping with malice as he spoke the vows that bound you together in unholy matrimony. The words echoed through the hall like a curse, sealing your fate alongside his.

As you exchanged rings, a union forged in the fires of despair, you vowed that though your body may be bound to Feyd-Rautha, your spirit would remain forever free.

Standing before him, you felt the weight of his gaze like chains around your soul.

With a solemn nod from the officiant, you and Feyd-Rautha were instructed to seal your union with a kiss. He removed your veil, his eyes lingering on your face. As his lips met yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, but devoid of love. You gasped when his tongue entered your mouth. It was a macabre dance of dominance and submission, a twisted mockery of affection that left a bitter taste upon your lips. You try to push him away, but he holds your hands firm against his chest. The Harkonnens roar with applause and laughter. As you pulled away, a sense of profound emptiness washed over you, a hollow echo of the dreams and desires that had once burned within your heart.

The rest of the wedding banquet was a blur. As you were led to the high table by Feyd-Rautha's side, you couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, ensnared in a web of malevolence. The guests, mostly Harkonnen allies, noble families, and sycophants, feigned smiles and exchanged whispers, their eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity at the spectacle of your union.

The feast itself was a decadent display of excess, with platters of exotic delicacies and goblets overflowing with rich wines. But the opulence only served to accentuate the suffocating atmosphere, as the room was closing in on you with each additional piece of ornate furniture.

Feyd-Rautha, ever the consummate host, played his part with calculated charm, his laughter ringing hollow in your ears as he regaled the guests with tales of conquest and murder. You watched him from across the table, his features twisted in a mask of false benevolence, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of revulsion mingled with a sliver of pity. He, too, was playing a part – ever the performer.

Throughout the banquet, you were subjected to the leering gazes and whispered innuendos of the Harkonnen cronies, their crude remarks slicing through the thin veneer of civility like daggers. But you held your composure, steeling yourself against their taunts and jeers, refusing to let them see the cracks in your mask.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed freely, the mood grew increasingly raucous, the revelry descending into a frenzied ecstasy. You found yourself adrift in a sea of faces, each one a grotesque caricature of humanity, their laughter and applause a cruel mockery of your predicament.

And amidst the chaos and debauchery, you couldn't help but wonder what was in store for you, chained to a man whose heart was as black as midnight. As you absentmindedly finished your last sip of wine, Feyd-Rautha stood suddenly, his chair loudly rattling against the granite floors. A chilling silence descended upon the hall.

He extended a hand towards you and you immediately understood his intentions. You departed the hall, hand-in-hand as men watched with envy and women stared with pity. You couldn’t bear to look at the faces of your family, afraid that you might beg them to take you home.

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As you left the banquet hall with Feyd-Rautha, a heavy sense of foreboding settled over you. The echoes of the evening's macabre festivities lingered in your mind, each laughter, each lewd jest, a reminder of the gilded cage in which you now found yourself imprisoned.

You walked beside Feyd-Rautha, his grip firm upon your hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen estate. There was an eerie stillness in the air. With each step, you felt the weight of your predicament pressing down upon you, the reality of your situation sinking in like a cold, unyielding truth.

You stole a glance at Feyd-Rautha, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Occasionally fireworks would alight by the window, allowing you to see his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that made you look away immediately.

As you walked in silence, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, a storm raging within you. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited in the bedchamber. You weren’t ignorant to the act of consummating a marriage, but your husband was no ordinary man. What horrors lay in store for a woman bound to a man as cruel and cunning as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… what would satisfy a man like him? But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of desire burned within you, a stubborn resolve to claim him as much as he claims you.

He led you into a large room with double doors. Compared to the gaudy decorations of the wedding hall, this room was relatively simple: a chamber of dark elegance and understated grandeur. There were only the bare necessities required of a bedroom, but each piece had been impeccably handmade with the most exquisite of materials. At its center, a massive four-poster bed stands as the focal point, its frame crafted from polished ebony wood, intricately carved with motifs of serpents and ivy. Perfectly sized above the bed, stretching over the ceiling was pure reflective glass. You swallowed thickly, this man had no shame.

A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its crystals casting prismatic rays of light across the room, illuminating the space with a haunting allure.

The walls are lined with dark, navy paneling, adorned sparingly with antique tapestries depicting scenes of forgotten battles and dangerously sharpened weapons. A sleek, black writing desk sits nearby, stacked with books on war strategies and adorned with quill and parchment.

A sense of regal simplicity pervades the space, each element carefully curated to its master. This is a sanctuary of solitude, where one can retreat from the heaviness of the Harkonnen world and immerse themselves in the embrace of peace.

Busy admiring the room, you didn’t notice Feyd-Rautha locking the doors behind you. You tensed when you suddenly felt the coldness of a blade against your back. With one precise slice, he cut your wedding dress open leading all the decorative pearls to fall to the ground. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, but his newfound grip on your wrists was even faster.

“You are mine now, pet.” His hands slowly guided yours down as he ripped away the rest of your dress. “Do not resist me, I want to see you in all your beauty.”

Your face flushed as you looked away from him. You knew objecting to his wish was futile, perhaps if you appeased him then he’d be gentler. You learned this was a useless thought the moment you saw his expression – raw, animalistic hunger chipped away at the edges of his sanity. His pupils dilated so wide that his eyes became monochromatic orbs of obsidian.

He removed his own clothes with swift and lithe movements, revealing pure sculpted muscle. Through the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you could see that he was barely holding back his lust. Feyd-Rautha was going to devour you without leaving a single morsel for the world.

“I-I… If you hurt me, I will scream.”

“Go ahead, it’ll only stroke my ego if you do. Scream loud enough for the whole banquet to hear. Let them know what pleasures your husband bestows upon you.”

With each step he took towards you, you took two steps back. When you felt the bed come into contact with the back of your knees, you realize you’ve been trapped.

“Lie down.” he commanded.

Sensing the tonal shift in his voice, you obeyed. You felt his long, slender fingers enter your most intimate place. When he curved against your inner wall, you let out an involuntarily moan – which he quickly swallowed from your lips. You had touched yourself before, but only rarely during occasions when you couldn’t sleep and the moon was hanging high.

However, this was different – he was different. His fingers reached places where yours never could. Your body made lewd sounds as he pumped in and out of you with torturous speed. The way you grind against his hand was indecent, but he rewarded you with such sweet friction. Hearing his low pants against your ear, you couldn't help but writhe into his touch. When you came undone, he smirked and licked your essence from his fingers.

Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you again; caging you between his toned arms. He reached out to grasp your chin before roughly crashing his lips down on yours. The kiss was all-consuming, he was drinking in every part of you without letting you breathe. Your eyes wandered down to where his member stood unnaturally stiff and enlarged. Your new husband sneered at your expression before his right hand circled around your throat.

“Your throat… it shall be my axis tonight.”

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #dune x reader #austin butler imagine #feyd smut #austin butler x reader #feyd rautha smut

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

Text

The Widow's Shadow

Natasha Romanoff x Enhanced! Stark!Fem!Reader

Summary: Tony and Pepper adopted you at 13 and now at the age of 18 a beautiful woman named Natalie Rushman walks into your life just as things start to heat up as your powers get displayed for the world to see.

Word Count: 10.5K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, just basic smut nothing crazy. R is innocent and it's her first time, Natasha at times refers to herself as Daddy, mentions of death (a car accident), R is orphaned,

A/N: I spent so long on this. It takes place during Iron Man 2 when Natasha is undercover as Natalie Rushman.

The lights in the room were dim, with only the boxing ring illuminated in the center. The rhythmic thud of gloves against pads filled the air, accompanied by the grunts and shouts of those sparring. Your heart raced as you adjusted the grip on your boxing gloves, the anticipation building up inside you.

Then she walked in.

Natalie Rushman. Or at least, that's the name she gave. With her fiery red hair, confident stride, and those piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you, she was a force to be reckoned with. She exuded an aura of mystery, and you were instantly captivated.

Your attention wavered, and in that split second of distraction, you stumbled. Your fist, meant for Happy, met nothing but air as you lost your balance. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, your chin throbbing, and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

"Damn it," you muttered, spitting out the blood, embarrassment flooding over you.

Before you could gather yourself, Natalie was by your side, a small cloth in hand. The gentle touch of her fingers as she dabbed away the blood sent shivers down your spine. "You should be more careful, cupcake," she said, her voice dripping with concern and a hint of playfulness.

“Cupcake?” your heart fluttered.

"Yes, I'm just clumsy sometimes. Don't worry about me, uh..."

"Natalie. Natalie Rushman," she introduced herself, her lips curling into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you, Ms. Rushman," You managed to say, your cheeks burning.

As she was called into the ring by Tony, you made your way over to Pepper, your adoptive mother. Sitting down in front of her, you tried to regain your composure, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

"What is he doing?" You asked, trying to divert your attention from Natalie's impending spar with Tony.

Pepper sighed, shaking her head. "About to cause us a lawsuit more than likely."

You chuckled, the tension in your chest easing slightly. But as you watched Natalie effortlessly dodge Tony's advances in the ring, a newfound determination took root within you. You needed to know more about her, to unravel the enigma that was Natalie Rushman.

The tension in the room shifted as Tony and Natalie engaged in their intense staring contest. You couldn't help but watch, the air thick with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally broke the silence, stepping out of the ring with a smirk.

"Happy, spar with her," he commanded, leaving Natalie and Happy to face off. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about this mysterious woman.

As Happy began to give instructions, Natalie's attention turned toward us. "Rule number one, never take your eyes off your oppon—"

Before Happy could finish his sentence, Natalie moved with lightning speed, effortlessly taking him down. It was a display of skill and strength that left you in awe. The intensity of the moment had a certain allure, and you couldn't deny the fascination that welled up inside of you.

However, your admiration was cut short as Pepper freaked out. You could see the concern in her eyes, contrasting sharply with Tony's impressed expression. It was clear that Natalie possessed a level of expertise that few could match.

As Natalie left the training area, Tony, sitting next to Pepper, turned to her with a grin. "I want one," he remarked, referring to Natalie.

Without thinking, you blurted out, "Me too." The room fell silent for a moment, and you became acutely aware of the disapproving glances from your parents—not because Natalie was a woman, but because she was about eight years older than you.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I mean, I want a trainer like her. Someone who can handle themselves like that." You tried to backpedal, but the amusement in Tony's eyes and the stern look from your mother told you that your slip hadn't gone unnoticed.

Little did they know, Natalie Rushman had already left an indelible mark on you, and the journey into the world of the extraordinary was just beginning.

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The sun bathed the Italian Grand Prix track in warm hues as the three of you strolled into the restaurant for lunch. The aroma of rich Italian cuisine filled the air, creating a backdrop to the high-energy atmosphere of the race.

"Mr. Stark," her voice called out, and your heart skipped a beat. There she was, Natalie Rushman, in a dress that accentuated every curve, giving you a smirk that sent a wave of excitement through you.

"Ms. Stark. Hello, how was your flight?" she greeted, her eyes locked onto you.

"Good, it was excellent," Tony replied before you could get a word in. You fought to conceal the disappointment and joined your parents as they went to grab drinks offered to them.

Natalie took the opportunity to brief Tony about someone wanting photos of you three. You found yourself pulled between your parents for the impromptu photo session, the camera flashes blinding you momentarily. As the bickering unfolded behind you, you tried to maintain a composed façade.

"Stark, you're a magnet for trouble," Natalie quipped, her gaze never leaving Tony.

"Yeah, but I love it," Tony retorted with his signature smirk.

While your adoptive parents argued about the unexpected presence of Natalie, it became apparent that Pepper was just as surprised as you were to see her here. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie Rushman was intricately woven into the fabric of your lives, bringing a mix of excitement and unpredictability. Little did you know, this encounter in Italy was just the beginning of a series of events.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was electric, filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses. As you settled into the corner table, Tony's casual request for the specific seating sent Natalie off to make the arrangements. You couldn't help but watch her go, your eyes tracing the graceful sway of her hips with a sense of admiration.

'Damn, she's beautiful,' You thought, feeling a warmth spread through you. The age gap that had seemed so significant earlier now felt inconsequential.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt Pepper's gaze on you. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"No ma'am, Dad didn't tell me anything about this," You replied honestly, your eyes still lingering on Natalie.

Caught up in the moment, you decided to shed your jacket, feeling the confines of the suit weigh heavily on you. Beneath it, your black vest and light blue button-up felt more comfortable, hugging your frame just right. You rolled up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the tattoos that adorned your arms.

You couldn't help but notice Natalie's subtle glances in your direction as you settled back into your chair, your posture relaxed yet confident. Resting your elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, the pose unintentionally showcasing your tattoos and muscles.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching Natalie's eye. This time, it was her turn to look away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The playful exchange sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but smile.

The restaurant's ambiance was suddenly punctuated by a sense of urgency as Pepper scanned the room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she spotted the TV screen. Following her gaze, you saw what had caught her attention—a news report showing Tony getting into some sort of altercation.

"Uhhh, Mom..." You hesitated, pointing to the screen, your voice tinged with concern.

"Oh, you've gotta be..." Pepper's voice trailed off, her worry evident. "Where is Happy? Natalie?" she muttered, scanning the room once more.

You shrugged, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I'll go check, see if I can find them. If not, I'll go stop him myself," You offered, determined to help.

Pepper's warning glare stopped you in your tracks. "No use of your powers in public," she whispered through clenched teeth, her concern for your secret identity overriding any immediate action. “I have enough going on with your father right now Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you sighed, "Yeah, yeah... I know, Mom." The weight of your powers felt like a burden in that moment, the desire to help conflicting with the need for secrecy.

Walking away, you couldn't help but dwell on the constraints that held you back. You had this incredible power at your fingertips, yet you were forbidden from using it when it mattered most. The internal struggle was real, and you grappled with the complexities of your identity, torn between the desire to do good and the necessity of maintaining your carefully guarded secret.

The urgency of the situation propelled you to take action. Without wasting any words, you found Natalie just around the corner and swiftly grabbed her wrist. She reacted defensively, ready to strike, but you caught her fist with your own, feeling the subtle itch of your tattoos, a primal instinct to protect yourself kicking in.

"Just me. We have a situation," you stated firmly, guiding her back toward Pepper.

As we approached Pepper, Natalie's attention shifted to the TV screens displaying Tony's predicament. Pepper wasted no time in questioning Natalie's knowledge of the situation. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her tone demanding answers.

Natalie looked up at one of the TVs, a nervous energy radiating from her as she wiped her hands on her dress. "No, this is the first I'm hearing of this," she assured Pepper.

Concern etched on her face, Pepper inquired about Happy's whereabouts. "Where's Happy?" she pressed.

"He's waiting just outside," Natalie responded promptly. "Go get him. I need him."

Natalie rushed off to retrieve Happy, leaving you standing there, eyes fixed on the screens. "What are you doing, Dad?" You muttered, your left arm itching, a physical manifestation of the unease and frustration building within you. The unpredictability of your lives was becoming increasingly apparent, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of the challenges that lay ahead.

"Y/N. Go, now. We'll meet you there." The urgency in Pepper's voice snapped you into action. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the race track, your focus razor-sharp as you navigated through the crowd. As you passed Happy and Natalie, you shouted over the noise, "I'll meet you down there! Get to the car with Mom!"

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you approached the unfolding situation. Every second counted, and you couldn't afford to waste any time. The man on the track posed a potential threat, and you needed to intervene before things escalated further.

As you reached the edge of the track, you assessed the situation, formulating a plan of action. The safety of the racers and spectators was paramount, and you braced yourself for whatever challenges lay ahead.

The air crackled with electricity as the man on the track wielded his arch reactor-powered tendrils with lethal precision, slicing through the race cars as if they were mere toys. Your heart pounded in your chest as Tony's car took the hit, flipping over in a terrifying display of destruction.

"DAD!" Your scream echoed across the track, the fear and urgency evident in your voice. Without a second thought, you vaulted over the fence, your tattoos coming to life, swirling patterns of black smoke enveloping the two of you as you helped Tony out of the wreckage.

"Dad, are you okay?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern.

Tony's resolve hardened as he steadied himself, his gaze locked on the mysterious man. "Yes, Y/N/N, I'm fine. We need to stop him. This isn't how I wanted your debut to be, but it looks like it's time. I'm going to get behind him and try to knock him out," he declared, determination burning in his eyes.

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. As the smoke began to dissipate, you positioned yourself as the distraction, ready to confront the man and protect your family. The tendrils lashed out at you, crackling with energy, but your tattoos responded instinctively, deflecting each strike with calculated precision.

The standoff intensified, the track becoming a battleground as we clashed with an unknown adversary. But amidst the chaos, a newfound sense of purpose surged within you. You were ready to embrace your powers, to stand alongside your father and defend your legacy against those who sought to harm you.

The screeching of tires and the roar of the engine filled the air as the car skidded to a halt, Happy and Pepper finally arriving on the scene. The sight of the man slamming into the fence was a welcome relief, albeit a brief one.

"Get in the car, now!" Pepper's voice cut through the chaos, her urgency driving you into action. You didn't hesitate, quickly climbing into the car as Tony and the man continued their struggle.

The tension inside the car was palpable, Tony's stubbornness clashing with the immediate need for safety. The man's relentless pursuit of the Ironman suitcase added another layer of danger, and you knew you had to intervene.

Seizing the moment, you grabbed the suitcase and hurled it out of the car, clearing the way for Tony to finally subdue the man in a climactic showdown. The sense of relief was overwhelming as the police arrived, taking the man into custody and securing the arch reactor.

As the adrenaline wore off, Pepper's concern shifted to you, her hands checking for any sign of injury. "Are you hurt, Y/N/N? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice filled with worry.

You tried to reassure her, but the repetitive questions only intensified the throbbing in your head. "Mom, I'm fine, really," you said, doing your best to quell her concerns.

The atmosphere in the penthouse suite was thick with tension and emotion as Pepper and you returned from the chaotic events at the race track. The concern in Natalie's eyes was evident as she greeted you, her hands gently resting on your arms as she assessed your well-being.

"You aren't hurt, right?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern, sending a wave of warmth through you. She cared, and that realization was both comforting and exhilarating.

"I'm fine, but thank you. I just need some Tylenol and a hot shower," you replied, trying to mask the lingering adrenaline and fatigue.

"I'll get both ready for you, Ms. Stark," Natalie offered, her voice soft yet reassuring.

Retreating to your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. Your tattoos continued to shift across your skin, a visual reminder of the power and responsibility that came with your abilities.

Lost in thought, you were caught off guard when Natalie suddenly appeared beside you, her proximity sending your heart racing. Your eyes locked, and you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Her whisper was barely audible, the concern evident in her eyes.

Caught up in the moment, you found yourself flirting with the boundaries of your relationship. "I mean...my lips kind of hurt...maybe you could kiss them better," You teased, throwing caution to the wind.

For a moment, Natalie looked taken aback, the implications of kissing Tony Stark's daughter weighing heavily on her mind. But the pull between you two was undeniable, and she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, electrifying kiss.

The world seemed to fade away as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the electricity between you igniting a spark that neither of you could deny. In that instant, you realized that your feelings for Natalie ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you.

But for now, in this fleeting moment, you were content to savor the warmth of her embrace, the promise of what lay ahead lingering in the air as your lips met once again in a passionate kiss.

"My parents will kill both of us if they find out about that." You say sitting up. The post-adrenaline haze hung in the air as you sat up, the realization of the impulsive kiss sinking in. As you took the pills and downed the glass of water Natalie brought you, she playfully remarked, "Good girl." A shiver ran down your spine at her words, a mixture of surprise and amusement at the unexpected response to a simple act.

"I'll keep that reaction in mind for later, but for now, your shower is waiting for you. I'd join you, Ms. Stark, but I think they'd realize I was gone," Natalie whispered with a mischievous smile.

"Y/N. You can just call me Y/N or Y/N/N," you corrected, scratching your arm as a small smile played on your lips.

"Okay, Y/N/N, well, enjoy your shower and try not to think about me too much," Natalie teased, purposefully bending forward as she got up. The suggestive move caught you off guard, and you felt a sudden wetness between your thighs, a heat rising within you.

You stormed off toward the shower, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The day had taken unexpected turns, and Natalie's playful banter only added to the complexity of the situation. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water enveloping you, you couldn't shake the lingering sensations from your encounter.

The atmosphere inside the plane was heavy with tension, the hum of the engines providing a constant backdrop to the somber mood. The news reports filled the cabin, discussing the events at the race track and speculating about Tony's actions and the existence of your powers.

"Child with toys," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at the dismissive tone of the reporters. The urge to defend your father and your family's legacy was strong, but you bit your tongue, choosing to retreat into your music instead.

Inserting your earbuds and selecting a playlist on your iPod, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. The familiar melodies provided a welcome escape, transporting you back to the intimate moment you shared with Natalie, the soft touch of her lips still lingering on yours.

Lost in thought, you found yourself yearning for the comfort and excitement of that stolen moment, a brief respite from the chaos and scrutiny that surrounded your lives. The complexity of your feelings for Natalie weighed on your mind, the unexpected connection leaving you yearning for more.

As the plane soared through the night sky, you allowed yourself to drift, the memories of your kiss and the promise of what lay ahead providing a glimmer of hope and excitement amidst the uncertainty of your lives.

The tension in the living room was palpable as Pepper and Natalie juggled their respective phone calls, their voices filled with a sense of urgency and concern. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on all of you, and the need for damage control was evident.

Rhodey's unexpected arrival added another layer of complexity to the situation, his stern demeanor contrasting with the chaos unfolding around you. Natalie's attempt to keep him away was met with a united front from Pepper and you, your synchronized response catching her off guard.

As Natalie's eyes narrowed and she mouthed a warning, you couldn't help but smirk, a chuckle escaping your lips as you shook your head in amusement. The playful exchange only heightened the tension between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

Walking on thin ice had never been so exhilarating, and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment when it would finally break, allowing you two to explore the depth of your feelings and the possibilities that lay ahead.

The anticipation for Tony's birthday party filled the air as you got ready in your room. Opting for an edgy yet stylish look, you adorned yourself in an asymmetrical black techwear skirt, a matching crop top, and thigh-high stockings with garter belts. Chunky Doc Martens completed the ensemble, and you threw up your Y/H/C up into a slightly messy bun. Dark makeup accentuated the tattoos that adorned your legs and covered your body.

Lost in your reflection, you didn't hear the door open and close. Only when Natalie appeared behind you, her arm snaking around your waist, did you realize you weren't alone. Her proximity sent a shiver down your spine as she whispered in your ear, "Who knew you could pull off suits and pretty skirts, cupcake."

A playful comment lingered in the air as you met her gaze through the mirror. Your breath caught when she continued, "I could just eat you out...I mean up." A suggestive bite of her lip followed, and your cheeks flushed with heat.

Her promise for later hung in the air, leaving you at a loss for words. "Once I get your dad all ready for his party, I'll come find you so we can have some fun of our own, okay, cupcake?" You could only nod, words escaping you in the face of the unexpected intensity of your exchange.

"Words, cupcake," she purred, her hand grazing your ass and squeezing slightly as she kissed your cheek. A shaky breath left you as you managed to stammer, "Y-yes, Natalie."

She smirked, letting her presence linger before sauntering off. You watched her leave in yet another alluring dress, feeling a magnetic pull as desire surged through you.

The pulsating beat from the party below seemed distant as you found myself alone with Natalie in your room. The bottle of vodka in your hand was both a comfort and a reminder of the chaos surrounding you. The weight of the world's scrutiny, the questions about your abilities, and the expectations tied to your identity as Tony Stark's daughter pressed down on you.

Natalie's sudden presence broke through your thoughts, her voice drawing you back to the present. "Hmmm last I checked you aren't 21, Ms. Stark," she remarked, her eyes locked onto yours. You took notice that she had changed since earlier now wearing a cheetah print slip dress.

Caught off guard, you tried to justify your actions. "Look, it's been a week, you know this. I just need to not think about everything for a bit, okay?" Your voice was tinged with frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotions bubbling to the surface.

Natalie's raised eyebrow and confident stride toward you sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Placing the bottle down, she closed the distance between you, her hands resting on your hips as she leaned in, her voice husky and seductive. "Well, if you don't want to not think for a bit...I could certainly help you with that. I am your assistant, after all."

The subtle shift in her voice, the hint of an accent, and the intoxicating proximity sent your heart racing. The line between assistant and lovers blurred, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

"No, you're my parents' assistant," you countered, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But Natalie's words and actions had already ignited a fire within you, the tension between you was palpable.

Her response, dripping with desire and intensity, pulled you in further, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. "You're their precious daughter, how could I not take care of you?" The closeness of your bodies, the warmth radiating between the two of you, elicited a soft moan from your lips, your voice betraying the desire coursing through me.

"Natalie..." you whispered, your voice filled with longing and anticipation, the promise of what lay ahead leaving you eager and breathless as your worlds collided, opening the door to a connection neither of you could deny.

The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, the intensity of your connection deepening with each passing second. Natalie's hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as desire took hold.

The sensation was electrifying, every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Before you knew it, the two of you were tumbling onto the bed, your bodies entwined as the passion between you intensified. The softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, all added to the overwhelming sensation of being lost in the moment.

When your lips finally parted, the look of surprise in Natalie's eyes mirrored your own feelings. But before you could react, she flipped you, her strength and confidence evident as she pinned you against the bed. The feeling of her thigh pressing between your legs sent a shiver down your spine, a gasp escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you.

Your eyes locked, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and eager for more. Her husky voice and commanding words spurred you on, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed.

"Move your hips, cupcake. Ride my thigh," she whispered, her lips finding yours once again in a passionate kiss.

The encouragement and guidance from Natalie gave you the confidence to explore new sensations, your body instinctively responding to her touch. As you began to move your hips, the pleasure intensified, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rhythm between you grew more intense.

The experience was exhilarating, the connection between you deepening as the two of you explored new levels of intimacy. Despite your lack of experience, Natalie's guidance and the undeniable chemistry between you allowed you to lose yourself in the moment, embracing the pleasure and excitement of the unknown.

Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface, now fully unleashed as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of your connection. Lost in a world of pleasure and longing, you allowed yourself to be guided by Natalie, trusting her to lead you on a journey of discovery and fulfillment.

The intensity of the moment reached its peak as Natalie's words and actions drove you closer to the edge. The sensation of her hands on your hips, guiding and encouraging you, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch amplifying the ecstasy that was building within you.

"I'm so glad you wore this skirt; it's so much easier to play with you," she murmured, her voice filled with desire and anticipation.

Her words, combined with the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, pushed you closer to the brink. The feeling of being on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release, was exhilarating, and you found yourself whining in desperation, craving the release that was within reach.

"N-Nat..." you moaned, your voice filled with longing and need.

"Go on, cupcake, cum for me," she whispered seductively, her eyes locked onto yours as she urged you to let go.

The intensity of her gaze, the warmth of her touch, and the intoxicating rhythm drove you over the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your tattoos seemed to come alive, moving across your body in sync with the waves of pleasure, a visual testament to the intensity of the experience.

"That's my good girl. Just like that...ride it out, baby girl," Natalie whispered, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction.

You opened your eyes, the world coming back into focus as you met Natalie's gaze. Her pupils were blown, the green barely visible as desire and satisfaction radiated from her. You could only imagine that your own eyes mirrored hers, the connection between you deepening as you shared a moment of pure ecstasy and intimacy, lost in the intensity of your connection.

The sudden interruption jolted you back to reality, the remnants of your intimate moment with Natalie quickly fading as the house shook with the force of the impact. Instinctively, you both ran towards the main floor, your concern growing as you heard Pepper's voice.

"Natalie!" Pepper's voice echoed through the chaos, her tone filled with urgency and concern.

"Mrs. Potts," Natalie responded promptly, her professional demeanor coming to the forefront.

The tension in the room was palpable, Pepper's eyes narrowing as she looked from Natalie to you, her concern evident. Before she could say more, the floor erupted beneath us, Tony and Rhodey crashing through in a display of raw power and conflict.

"Go!" you urged Natalie and Pepper, your tattoos coming to life as you stepped forward, ready to intervene.

The look of concern in Natalie's eyes tugged at your heart, but you reassured her, "Go...I'll be fine." With that, they retreated, Happy guiding Pepper away while Natalie disappeared in another direction.

"Stop fighting, you two! I will separate you!" You called out, your shadowy tendrils extending from your body, ready to intervene.

"Don't get involved, Y/N/N. This is between your father and me," Rhodey warned, his voice filled with determination and resolve. As he was don in the War Machine suit.

Despite his words, you couldn't stand by and watch as the two men you cared about most clashed in a battle that threatened to tear them apart. The power surging through you, the determination to protect and intervene, drove you forward as you stepped between them, ready to do whatever it took to stop the fighting and restore peace.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to wane as the immediate threat subsided. Exhausted, you released your grip on Tony, your muscles aching from the effort it took to restrain him. His intoxicated state only added to my frustration and concern, the gravity of his actions weighing heavily on you.

"What the hell was that, Dad!?" You shouted, your voice filled with anger and disbelief.

But Tony was lost in a drunken haze, his words slurred and unintelligible as he mumbled to himself. The reality of the situation hit you hard, the realization that his actions had not only put himself at risk but also jeopardized the safety and well-being of everyone around him.

"You ruined my night..." you muttered, the disappointment and frustration evident in your voice.

Thoughts of Natalie filled your mind, the connection you had shared was overshadowed by the chaos and conflict that had erupted. The uncertainty of whether you would see her again weighed heavily on you, the hope of exploring your newfound connection clouded by the events that had transpired.

The morning brought a new day, but the lingering tension from the events of the previous night weighed heavily on you. Tony, still in his suit, took you to a breakfast spot for some donuts, attempting to break the silence and ease the tension that hung between you.

"You really messed up last night," you stated bluntly, taking a bite of your bear claw.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and eat your breakfast," he retorted, a hint of regret in his tone.

As the two of you enjoyed your breakfast on the rooftop, Nick Fury approached, interrupting your moment of relative peace. You used your smoky tendrils to descend slowly, greeting Fury with a smile.

"Fury," you acknowledged, the familiarity in your interactions a contrast to the strain in your relationship with your father.

"Little Stark," Fury replied, a smile crossing his face as he hugged you. Tony eventually joined you, and the three of you headed inside to continue your conversation.

Sitting in a booth with your father and Fury on the opposite side, you were taken aback when Natalie appeared, clad in a skin-tight black bodysuit. Your mouth fell open as she smiled at you. The unexpected presence of someone you thought you might not see again left you momentarily speechless.

"We've secured the perimeter, but I don't think we can handle it much longer," she reported to Fury.

"Huh...you're fired," Tony declared, a hurt expression crossing your face.

"Oh, that's not up to you," Natalie retorted, her words cutting through the tension.

"Tony, little Stark, I'd like you to meet Agent Romanoff," Fury introduced.

"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury. Finding out you had powers was just icing on the cake," Natalie explained, her gaze lingering on you.

The revelation about Natalie's true role left you unsettled. As you looked away, a sense of dissociation washed over you—a defense mechanism you hadn't employed in a long time. The complexities of your newfound powers and the tangled web of relationships and secrets threatened to pull you further into the abyss, leaving you grappling with the uncertain path that lay ahead.

The weight of the recent events and the complexities of your relationships left you feeling isolated and overwhelmed. Holed up in your room, a wave of depression washed over you, casting a shadow over everything. A knock at the door interrupted your solitude, but you didn't feel like engaging with anyone. Despite your lack of response, the door opened.

"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk," you called out, assuming it was Tony attempting to breach the walls of your solitude.

"Oh, I'm not your dad, unless that's something you're into," Natalie's voice cut through the air. The unexpectedness of her presence caused you to shoot up, facing her as she stood just past your door.

"What do you want?" you asked coldly, your guard up as you braced for whatever conversation or confrontation might follow. The uncertainty of where you stood and the weight of your emotions made it difficult to predict the nature of your interaction.

"I want to talk if you'll let me," Natalie's voice was soft, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air.

"Why should I? Everything I know about you is a lie, Natalie! Oh wait, that isn't even your name!" Your voice trembled with anger and hurt, the betrayal you felt evident in every word. "I gave myself to you. You were my first, and it was all a lie!" Tears welled in your eyes, the pain of the deception cutting deep.

As Natalie stepped closer, you felt a surge of emotions, your tattoos reacting to your heightened state. "Don't," you warned, the tendrils of smoke-like energy emanating from your skin, ready to defend and protect.

"You wouldn't," she challenged, closing the distance between us despite your warning.

"I said don't." Your voice was firm, the energy around you intensifying as you braced for a confrontation.

But instead of a clash, Natalie's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug as you broke down. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you clung to her tightly, the weight of your emotions overwhelming. Smoke from your tattoos clouded around the two of you, a physical manifestation to how clouded your mind felt.

"You lied...you lied to me..." you sobbed, your fists weakly pounding against her as the tears flowed freely.

She held you close, waiting patiently for the storm of emotions to pass, her presence a source of comfort amidst the chaos of your feelings. The pain of the betrayal lingered, but in that moment, the connection between you offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty and pain.

"I had to, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to tell you something, something no one else knows about me. Can you look at me, Y/N/N?" Natasha urged, her voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard from her before. Gently, she tilted your chin upwards, her eyes searching yours as she saw the hurt reflected in them.

"You're right, my name isn't Natalie. I go by Natasha now, but my real name, not a spy name or anything like that. The one on my original birth certificate is Natalia," she confessed, her voice soft and sincere. "Though I change names around, I've always been..."

"Nat?" You interrupted, the realization dawning on you.

She was caught off guard but smiled warmly, "Yeah, always, cupcake."

You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was another lie. But all you found was sincerity and a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The journey to rebuild trust would be a long one, but in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"It's going to take time for me to fully trust anything you say, but for now...please just...stay with me," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you clung to her tightly.

"Whatever you need, cupcake," Natasha replied, her voice filled with determination and resolve. Slowly the smoke dissipated around you, your mind clearing up.

Leaning up, you captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, the connection between you reigniting as you slowly explored the depths of your feelings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, the bond between you remained unbroken, a testament to the strength of your connection and the hope for a future built on trust and understanding.

The atmosphere in the lab was thick with anticipation and nostalgia as Tony and yourself delved into the trunk of his father's belongings. The weight of the legacy left behind by his father loomed large, the contents of the trunk a tangible link to the past and the future.

"So this is all the stuff Grandpa left for you," you remarked, sorting through the items before handing a blueprint of the arc reactor to Tony. His fingers traced the lines and annotations, a sense of reverence in his touch as he studied the intricate design.

Setting the blueprint aside, Tony began to sift through his father's old journal, his eyes scanning the pages filled with calculations and theories. The depth of knowledge contained within the pages was staggering, a testament to his father's genius and the groundbreaking work he had undertaken.

"Hey, Dad, there are some reels of film. We should watch them," you suggested, your curiosity piqued as you handed the reels to Tony.

Nodding in agreement, Tony set up the projector, the soft whir of the film reels filling the room. As the images flickered to life, we were greeted by the familiar face of his father, his voice echoing through the years as he spoke passionately about the arc reactor and its potential to change the world.

As the film played on, revealing insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony and you were drawn deeper into the legacy that had shaped his family's destiny. The blend of past and present, the convergence of old knowledge and new possibilities, served as a poignant reminder of the responsibility you carried and the legacy you hoped to uphold.

Together, you continued to explore the contents of the trunk, each item a piece of the puzzle, each revelation a step closer to unlocking the mysteries of the arc reactor and fulfilling Tony's quest to perfect it for his own life force and well-being. The journey ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but in that moment, you were united in your determination to honor the legacy of the past and forge a path forward into the future.

As the film continued to play, a poignant moment unfolded as Tony's father addressed him directly. The atmosphere in the lab grew still, the weight of the words hanging in the air as his father spoke with a sense of purpose and conviction.

"I built all of this for you, Tony," his father's voice echoed through the years, a heartfelt message from the past. "Someday, you'll understand it all and be able to pick up where I left off."

The sincerity in his father's words resonated deeply, the realization dawning on Tony that he was part of something far greater than himself, a legacy that spanned generations. The mention of his father, limited by the resources available to him at the time, added another layer of complexity to the narrative, highlighting the sacrifices and challenges faced by those who had come before him.

As the film continued, revealing more insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony was faced with the daunting task of carrying forward the legacy entrusted to him. The responsibility weighed heavily on him, but the belief and confidence his father had placed in him served as a source of inspiration and motivation.

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“It was an illegal seizure of trademark property.” Your mother spoke on the phone as you lounged on the couch in her office, the news once again playing on about Iron Man and talking about you. How young you are and how reckless it is of your adoptive father to allow you to use these enhanced powers. A scoff rolls off your tongue as if he truly had any control over you. You had mostly stopped paying attention to the droning anchorman when two words slipped out of a small girls mouth who was being interviewed.

“When I grow up I wanna be just like the Shadow Queen!” You shot up straight, watching the television and ignoring the fact that your father just walked in carrying the one thing your mom is allergic too.

“Did you guys hear that!?” You asked excitedly calling over the couch that you now perched backwards on and interrupting the conversation they were having. Both looked at you and then the news on TV which now had the headline ‘Shadow Queen: Is This Child Endangerment?’ Pepper let out an exasperated sigh and Tony smiled.

“You are not pulling anymore stunts. Natalie and I are still trying to do damage control.” Pepper spoke and you could hear how over the topic she’d become ever since Italy. You deflated a bit back into the couch until Natasha walked in. Her eyes flicked to you a smirk on her face as she walked up to Pepper.

“Wheels up in 25 minutes. Will Ms. Stark be joining us?” Natasha asked and you smiled.

“Yes she will be.” You answered, jumping the couch. “Oh and Natalie dear can you get me a meeting with the press? I’d like to make an official statement as Shadow Queen.” Both Pepper and Natasha looked at you.

“Absolutely not.” Pepper spoke.

“Sorry mom. I need to do this. I know you and dad both think I’m a kid still. I’m not. I’m not the same girl dad found. I’m an adult now. I’ve watched both of you for so long now and I need to do this for myself. I need the world to know who I am.” You look from your mom to Natasha who doesn’t offer any guidance as your eyes wander back to your mom who lets out a sigh.

“If it’s not your dad it’s you causing me a headache.” She was rubbing her temples. “Just go get ready for the flight. Wear something nice.”

“Do you need anything else boss?” You heard Happy call and when both Pepper and Tony tried to answer, Tony looked around the room at the three of you.

“Oh I see I lost all the kids in the divorce.” He laughs, but Natasha stays focused on Pepper and you stay focused on Natasha. You see Happy shake his head in your peripheral. “No.” Natasha’s focus moved from Pepper to out the floor to ceiling windows of the office before her eyes flickered back to you. Her expression unchanging. Tony cleared his throat, catching your attention. “Are you blending in well here, Natalie? Here at Stark Enterprises?” Is he serious right now? You think to yourself as his tone shifts. At the mention of her name Natasha turns her head towards Tony. Her head tilting down ever so slightly as if to say stop, but Tony being who he is continues. “Your name is Natalie, isn’t it?”

“Dad.” You catch all three of their attention. “Did you hit your head or something?” You ask sticking your hands in your pockets. “Her name hasn’t changed since we met her. Natalie. Natalie Rushman. Remember?” You tilt your head to the side almost as a little warning. Your tattoos shifting ever so slightly that catches Tony’s attention.

Pepper got up while the two of you talked, taking with her the papers she had just signed. “Y/N/N, hurry up. Go change I’ll meet you and Natalie on the plane.” You smiled at your mother as she left the room. Natasha began to clean up her desk waiting for Pepper to be gone before speaking,

“I’m surprised you can keep your mouth shut.” There was a bite to her voice that made you shiver and smile.

“Boy, you’re good. You are mind-blowingly duplicitous. How do you do it? You just tear things....You’re a triple imposter. I’ve never seen anything like you. Is there anything real about you? Do you even speak Latin?” Tony rambled and as Natasha started to leave, following behind you she spoke out in Latin,

“Which means? Wait. What? What did you just say?” Tony asked spinning around in his chair as you wait by the door for Natasha who spun around on her heels to answer him.

“It means I’m fucking your daughter.” She turned back and grabbed your wrist as the two of you left, your mind sputtering.

“What the hell Nat!?” You finally managed out as the two of you stopped at your room to change. An outfit already picked out by Natasha you assumed.

“You think that he’ll actually take that to heart? He called me a triple agent and asked if anything about me is real.” You went to say something, but she stopped you with a kiss. “Shhh cupcake. Get dressed in the outfit I picked.” Her breath hot against your lips and no matter how much you wanted to fight it. That wouldn’t happen as she helped get you undressed.

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You, Pepper, Happy, and Natasha arrive at the Expo. It’s all too loud and noisy for your liking, but you stick close to Natasha. You brush your arms together every so often and a gentle squeeze here and there from her when she can tell you’re getting too tense.

Your tattoos have ben shifting all night. Something wasn’t right and you make mention of it to Natasha when she asks what’s wrong. The markings adorning your body shifting along and Natasha who was already keeping a close eye on things seems to double down.

The three of you sat in the audience watching as Justin Hammer revealed his latest ‘invention’ which was just a rip of of the Iron Man suit making your blood boil and your tattoos itch as they crawled around your skin. You had begun itching at your arms until Natasha’s hand found yours. Your fingers intertwining with hers as she she your hands down on your lap. Keeping her eyes on the stage. You looked at her and then your eyes flicked to Pepper who was too wrapped up in the blatant rip off of Tony’s suit.

Everyone around the three of you clapping as he showed off each set in a different style for each branch of the military. “That’s a hell of a lot better than some cheerleader, let me tell you. But as revolutionary as this technology is, there will always be a need for man to be present in the theater of war.” You roll your eyes knowing just how badly things could go if they start adding anything remotely close to robotic tech like this into the mix of war. It should be nowhere near the battlefield, but idiots like Justin don’t know and don’t care about things like that when money is involved. “Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.” As Justin stepped back leaving both Pepper and yourself in shock two quiet “What!?” came out of your mouths.

Rhodey was slowly lifted up in the Mark II suit he had taken a few days prior. You grit your teeth at the man who you practically considered an uncle turning against your father. As Rhodey came into full view you could tell modifications had been made to the suit and it looked a bit bulkier all around with a gun coming off the right shoulder. “For America and its allies, Hammer Industries is reporting for...” Justin didn’t get to finish his sentence as a rumbling started to approach catching everyone’s attention.

You knew what it was as soon as it came into view, your dad, in his suit. Coming right up and touching down in front of Rhodey. You stood up, un able to sit any longer, but you felt the tug back from Natasha. You looked back at her and exchanged looks for a moment before she slowly let your hand go after giving it a tight squeeze.

Everyone was standing up to clap so luckily it went mostly unnoticed until your tattoos moved off your skin pushing you up and landing you just behind your dad. He turned only slightly, but gave no other acknowledgement.

“We got trouble.” Tony stated walking towards Rhodey.

“Tony, Y/N/N there are civilians present.” Rhodey mentioned and you looked behind and back at him like, ‘yeah I know’. “I’m here on orders. Let’s not do this right now.”

“Give them a wave.” You heard Tony state as you walked up to the two men. You turned around giving a smile and two peace signs, letting your tattoos slowly dance around you.

“Hey, all right! Yeah!” Justin pushed past you trying to recapture the audience attention.

“All these people are in danger.” You heard Tony speak, but didn’t react as you were still looking at the crowd. “We gotta get em outta here. You gotta trust me for the next five minutes.”

“Yeah, I tried that. I got tossed around your house, remember?” Rhodey reminds and you turn to the two men finally.

“Listen I think he’s working with Vanko.”

“Vanko is alive?” Rhodey asked and you were questioning the same thing. Tony moved you back to just behind Rhodey as he stepped up to Justin.

“Where is he?” Tony asked Justin.

“What?”

“Where’s Vanko?”

“Who?”

“Tell me.”

“What are you doing here, man?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rhodey spoke.

“What? What is it?” You ask looking up at Rhodey. Suddenly the gun on his shoulder is pointed at Tony along with the civilians. Your mind races knowing Pepper and Natasha are there too.

“Is that you!?” Tony asks in a panic.

“No, I’m not doing that. That’s not me. I can’t move. I’m locked up. I’m locked up.” Rhodes was panicing as the robots behind you also started to move.

“Dad. I’ve got this.” You called out moving just behind Rhodey. “Help Rhodey.” Almost all the tattoos came off your skin, acting as a barrier to stop the the robots from hurting anyone as they started to fire. Though you felt the hits through the markings you stood tall. As your dad and Rhodey took off into the sky so did the robots. Leaving you there.

“Fuck not being able to fly.” You grumbled, but your tattoos moved instinctively to protect the civilians from the falling glass. You coughed up blood from all the gunshots and glass. Trying to look over the crowd for your mother and Natasha. Finally finding them and moving yourself to them.

Your tattoos came back into you. Your skin feeling like it was on fire as you came up behind Natasha. She grabbed onto when you fell against her.

“You did a good job cupcake take a break. Daddy’s gotta take care of something.” You looked up at her in confusion before she arm barred Justin into the table. “You tell me who’s behind this. Who’s behind this?” Natasha practically growled and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Ivan. Ivan Vanko.” Justin groaned.

“Where is he?” She asked, tightening her hold.

“He’s at my facility.” As soon as she had the information she let go. Walking away from Pepper and you followed close behind.

“Don’t follow cupcake.” Her voice was stern, but you weren’t about to listen.

“I’m coming with you. I took this guy on once before. I’m coming with you and I’m helping.” Natasha stopped turning on her heels. She looked down at you. Her face was harsh and took your breath away, but you didn’t back down.

“I can’t loose you.” Natasha’s voice was flat.

“And I can’t loose you. So either we go together or I hold you here with me.” She raised an eyebrow in a challenge before turning once more and continuing on.

The two of you made your way outside, Happy caught your eye in the crowd of people trying to escape. “Nobody’s answering the phone. What’s going on?” He asked quickly.

“Get in the car. You’re taking us to Hammer industries.” Natasha called out and Happy looked to you for confirmation. You gave him a nod as Natasha got in the back seat, you climbing in passenger.

Happy drove frantically after you had gotten out of the crowd. Luckily because of the Expo and the time of night the streets were rather clear.

“When we arrive, I need you to watch the perimeter, Happy.” You looked back at Natasha, watching as she took her hair down. “I’m gonna enter the facility and take down the target.” Natasha started undressing and you looked away, a blush covering your cheeks as you noticed Happy looking. He started swerving and your tattoos moved up blocking the view as your girlfriend changed. You exchanged a look with Happy before his eyes returned to the road.

“Go ahead Nat. You’re good.” You called out to which you got a ‘Thanks cupcake.’ in return as another look with Happy is exchanged. “I’ll explain when half of New York isn’t in danger, okay?”

When we pull up to the building Nat has changed herself into that skin tight one piece she had on when you found out her true identity. If half of New York weren’t in danger you’d probably take her-

“Stay in the car Happy.” Nat called out as the two of you got out.

“I’m not staying in the car.” Happy called back.

“I said stay in the car.”

“What are you wearing?” Happy asked.

“Don’t ask. Just stay here Happy. Nat and I got this.” The two of us slipped inside. Working out a small plan before actually starting to attack anyone the two of you happened to come across. As you watched her in action for the first time you were simply amazed by her movements, her agility, just everything about her and you were lucky enough to call her yours?

Just as you were getting lost in thought one of Vanko’s guards came up, but the black tendrils of your tattoos came out. Wrapping around the guards throat just until he passed out from lack of oxygen. The two of you taking down guard after guard as you make your way to Vanko. Natasha pulled out two pistols as she kicked the door in, but Vanko was gone. Just two more of the guards hanging from the ceiling.

“He’s gone.” Natasha stated.

“Fuck.” You cursed, your hands balling into fists as the tattoos moved and itched. Natasha pushed further into the room. Getting up to the computer and started typing as you came up just behind her and to the side. Watching what she was doing. “Are you hacking back into Rhodey’s suit?” You asked getting a short ‘mhmm’ in response. Your eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t know you could hack.” She threw you a look over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips.

“There’s a lot you still need to learn about me cupcake.” It was the way she worded it that made you smile.

“Tony.” Natasha looked at the screen where you could see your father’s face. “Got your best friend back.”

“Thank you very much Agent Romanoff.” Tony saying a meaningful thank you was something you hadn’t heard in a while.

“Well done with the new chest piece.” Natasha commented. “I am reading significantly higher output and your vitals all look promising.”

“Yes, for the moment, I’m not dying. Thank you.” Tony spoke through the comms and you smiled, wrapping and arm around Natasha.

“I’m happy to hear another parent won’t be dying on me.” You joked, but Natasha looked at you and narrowed her eyes.

“Dying? What do you mean? Did you just say you were dying?” Pepper’s face popped up on another monitor, butting into the conversation.

“Is that you? No, I’m not. Not anymore.” Tony replied. You and Natasha exchanged looks and decided not to get involved for the moment.

“What’s going on?”

“I was going to tell you. I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“You were going to tell me? You really were dying.” As the bickering went back and forth a few moments longer before Natasha interrupted finally.

“Hey, hey. Save it for the honeymoon. You got incoming Tony. Looks like the fights coming to you.”

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

You sat nervously in an abandoned warehouse Fury had set up in. He had asked for you first; alone. Which made you nervous, your leg wouldn’t stop and all the tattoos moved around, twitching incessantly at your anxiety. You looked at the monitors Fury had set up and the news once again talking about ‘Shadow Queen and Iron Man.’ A hard dry swallow came along with it at the moment.

A few manilla folders sat on the desk in front of you with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo and all caps just underneath it, AVENGERS INITIATIVE followed by an empty space and then PRELIMINARY REPORT. Suddenly Fury’s hand is in front of you pushing the folder back onto the table, making your tattoos come off your body and stopping just before you hit him.

“Fuck! You scared me Fury.”

“Sorry little Stark. Just don’t need you lookin at that just yet.” You slowly nodded at him, licking your dry lips. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it just yet.” Your brows knitted together.

“Why don’t you tell me first, then we can figure it out together.” You offered and he laughed.

“You trying to negotiate with me little Stark?” A smile cracking on his face.

“I always negotiate. You know who my parents are don’t you?” You raise an eyebrow, but you aren’t expecting the answer you receive.

“Y/D/N Y/L/N died at at 32 in a car accident caused by your powers awakening. Y/M/N Y/L/N died at at 29 in the same car accident. The three of you were on your way into the city to go see a play on Broadway. You weren’t too interested in going and as you started to throw a tantrum over staying back at home with your nanny a sudden burst of energy came out of you, manifesting in what you now call your tattoos. After they came out of you, you accidently tore through,”

“STOP!” Your tattoos shifted uncomfortably at the memory you hadn’t thought about it in a few years. You had buried it away, pretended it never happened.

“You tore through both your parents ending their lives in an instant.” Fury finished and you felt bile rise up that you swallowed back down. “Then the injuries you sustained which were minimal due to your tattoos protecting you you had been left to your father’s best friend and originally your Godfather, Tony Stark.”

“Please...stop. I don’t need my life rehashed.” You pleaded.

“Look at this. Agent Romanoff’s assesment of you.”

“Is...is that really?”

“Read. It.” You sighed and took the folder opening it. Skimming through,

“Okay Y/N Stark takes much after her adoptive father in many aspects, but had many caring tendencies to look after and take care of others even at the young age she is. She is kind, caring, and loving to those around her even when she’s just met you.” You carry on reading until you see it. Y/N Stark a.k.a Shadow Queen has a lot of heart and could be a liability to herself and others due to her caring nature.” You read the last line again. “No. No that isn’t fair. She’s saying that becasuse she doesn’t want me out there! She’s saying this because she cares about me. She told me she can’t loose me and this is her way of trying to stop me!” You slammed your hands down and stood up.

“I know. She told me her reasoning. Told me it was the one time she couldn’t put her feelings to the side. I’ve known Romanoff for many years now and never has she had trouble putting her feelings to the side. So I am giving the yes.” You looked up at Fury.

“You are?” You asked a little shocked.

“Yes. I am. Do not make me regret it little Stark. You’ve trained for a long time and now it’s time for you to stand in the spotlight. Little girls are already looking up to you.” Fury patted your back letting you know you could leave. You had to go talk with Nat about this.

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“So he still let you join?” The two of you were laying down, she was on her back and you snuggled into her side. For once you two were both in comfortable clothes. Her hair down and slightly messy with a tank top and sweats. While you were in leggings and an old iron maiden t-shirt. Her fingers running through your hair.

“Yes. I’m still not happy you tried to stop me.” You grumbled against her.

“I know and I still stand there on it.” You roll your eyes and bite at her shoulder making her moan out. “Hey. Behave.” She reprimands and pushes her fingers against your lips. You willingly take those instead. “I don’t want you risking it out there for the wrong people or reasons.” You nodded in understanding. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice was soft and her eyes bore into you. You let her fingers go, cupping her cheek before leaning up and kissing her. It was a soft kis where you two moved your lips against each other slowly and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled away.

“You won’t lose me. I promise.” You placed your foreheads together as she accepted the answer for now though you knew she’d still always worry. You’d never let her know just how worried she made you. She’s a black widow, but she was still a human with no enhancement unlike you. Your tattoos were instinctive to protect you and those you care about. “I’m not going anywhere Tasha.” You reassured her with another kiss as the two of you melted into each other, finally getting to just enjoy each other after the past month of activities that had occurred and you were hopeful for more time like this with her for at least a little while before Fury called up one of you. You could only hope though.

#ley writes #ley speaks #ley masterlist #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x female

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propertyofwicked · 2 months

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SECRETS - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader (cos who doesn't love a bit of brother's best friend?). no content warnings for this part. pls lemme know what u think of this pls and thank u.

part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!

y/n was a bit of an enigma in the fewtrell family. yes, she’d grown up karting with her older brother and his best friend, but it wasn’t a career for her. not like it was for max, who took his love of karting to championships and content creation and especially not like lando, who made it all the way to F1.

no, y/n fewtrell wanted a career, for now at least anyway. which leads us to now, she’s sat in a second year lecture, not listening to a single word as a slew of messages from her brother almost vibrate her phone off the desk.

she didn’t really need to think about it at all, of course she’d be there. whilst she had no interest in her actually involvement, she loved motor sports, and loved supporting lando. the amount of times she’d been recognised in her uni towns sports bar, watching the F1, was getting concerning. not to mention the time she’d finished a 10 hour shift and somehow fell asleep in said sports bar, made worse and more recognisable to lando fans by the quadrant hoodie and LN4 beanie - max had not let her live it down since the moment the photo came on his twitter feed. it just seemed odd that lando all of a sudden wanted, no, needed her presence - after all, he'd had minimal contact with her for almost a year.

but, she weighed up in her head, getting to see lando was somewhat of a reward. yes spending the day with her brother would be good, although she could sense her summer would potentially be spent with him anyway. but lando, what could she say about lando. he was always around growing up, and yes admittedly there had been a few moments shared in her early adulthood that would indicate something more but it always remained unspoken. lingering touches here and there, the night they spent dancing together in a club, though written off as drunk friendliness, and most notably an interrupted moment where he whispered “max would kill me if he knew the truth”. y/n never got to find out what the truth was, as max himself came barrelling into the room, equally as drunk as everyone else at the gathering. from that night on, she barely saw or heard from lando, well, until now supposedly.

ultimately, y/n decided that dwelling on what could’ve been, whilst lando jets off around the world, was simply not worth it. she focused on her studies, and began declining offers to watch lando race on the other side of the world. y/n fewtrell was a strong independent woman who did not need the validation from her brothers best friend.

didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it.

as predicted, the academic year ended and y/n found herself moving a bag of clothes into max’s spare room. people started spotting her in the background of streams again, fans excited to see the fewtrell’s back together and in full force - y/n now adorning a lovely bruise down the side of her arm from where max had shoved her too hard off a chair and onto the floor. sore losers run in the family.

“MAX! that hurt,” y/n whined from her new found position on the floor.

“oh did it,” max asks mockingly, “sucks to be you i guess” he adds with a shrug, although letting her use his arm to pull herself back up.

he moved back to playing his game when a text popped up on her phone making her giggle.

“what? what are you laughing at?”

“lando said “push him back”. lando,” y/n said, looking at the camera, “if i could, i would - but i quite like having somewhere to live and my own personal chauffeur,” she laughed, max laughing with her.

a month later she was in the passenger seat of max’s car, him pulling in to park outside the silverstone track. it was hours before the public would show up, so she instantly spotted the curly haired man. yes, the bright orange jumper was like a bat signal for lando, but y/n’s eyes were immediately drawn to him naturally. max had just about pulled the handbrake on when lando bounded over to the car, pulled the passenger door open and lunged himself around y/n.

“you came! it’s been too long since ive had my little lucky charm in my garage,” he says, looking directly into her eyes. a red flush runs up her cheeks, hoping that the boys will put it down to the loss of air conditioning. any awkwardness she had anticipated between the two dissolved almost instantly.

“i know, i’m sorry. i should just drop out of uni and follow you around the world, i know. forgive me,” she jokes holding her hands up, and lando quirks an eyebrow up, as if saying “you should”.

“don’t do that, y/n. one of the fewtrell’s needs to be properly educated,” max jokes, ”besides, not having his lucky charm around all the time keeps his ego in check.” lando chuckles in response, finally moving to stand fully out of the car and allowing y/n and max to climb out and join him.

“so, home race in 2 days - how you feelin’ mate?” max asked lando, raising his hand to do one of those bro hand grabs. they continued talking, y/n trailing just behind them as they walked into the building and around to the mclaren area. it was always a spectacle, coming to races. the teams, the drivers, the media, the celebrations - it was somewhat overwhelming. it was weird to see the place so empty, then again, it was 7am on FP1 day so the only people walking around were the odd driver and mechanics.

they continued to walk through the paddock, y/n just listening to the boys discussing an upcoming quadrant project, eventually reaching his drivers room. the sofa looked so inviting, especially to the girl who was dragged kicking and screaming out of bed at 5am. whilst lando distracted max, showing him his helmet for the home race, y/n crawled over to the sofa, curled up in a corner and shut her eyes.

“y/n? you good?” lando asked, after clocking her new found position.

“shut up.”

“ouch.”

“she threatened to rip my eyeballs out and shove them down my throat this morning when i tried to get her up. being told to shut up is nothing,” max laughed, ruffling the top of his sisters head and messing up her hair, “she just likes her sleep.”

“yes, she does, please let her have it,” y/n mumbles bluntly, met with chuckles from the boys.

“we’re gonna get breakfast. ill bring you back something if you want to stay here?” lando asks, her eyes perking up at the thought of food.

“yes please,” she says, with a soft smile directed towards him.

“next time, me and you are getting separate hotel rooms,” y/n groaned, rolling around the sofa of her hotel room trying to get comfortable.

“next time, tell me you want to come with me early enough for me to book you a separate hotel room, y/n,” her brother grumbled back.

“i’m gonna see if there’s a gym here. i need to tire myself out if i’m going to sleep on this…thing,” she said, poking at the solid leather of the sofa.

max didn’t respond to his sister, instead he rolled over to face the door and shut his eyes. y/n grabbed her key card and her shoes, and walked out the door, happy to be away from her brother. she loved him, she really did, but after spending the entire day in lando’s small driver room with him - she really just needed some brother-free air.

she barely reached the lift at the end of the hallway when she got a text, diverting her entire plans for that evening.

i’m bored. come on a drive with me?

going on a late night drive with lando was not out of the ordinary, but usually max was there. had he sent max the same message? either way, she responded with a quick yes and thumbs up.

cool. im outside btw. hurry up.

have you just turned up assuming i was going to say yes?

was i wrong?

shut up im coming down now

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

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fishareglorious · 2 months

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These two really are siblings they look like they haven't seen a comb in the past thirty years

#greta hofmann #enigma #reverse 1999 #certified storm moments #their scruffy haired swag has deeply captivated me.......#greta's definitely up there in age considering the gray streaks in her hair so i do wonder how old is enigma #do not tell me she has the case of premature graying. i do arnis i will whack you wit it. let me live my truth

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todayontumblr · 2 months

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Thursday, March 21.

Ten years of Going to Hell.

Cometh the hour, cometh the return of the Tumblr girl. It's the talk of the town. It's so hot right now. Return of the Tumblr girl. So hot.

Everyone is talking about it because, and there's no doubt about it, 2014 Tumblr is back in a big way. Some folk ask if we remember her bedroom (it's never changed.) Others claim that there is more to her outfit than meets the eye. Y'all are real enigmas—yet the internet can't stop talking about you. So mysterious. So hot.

Well, it looks like Tumblr girls of all stripes are going to need their essentials: their string of fairy lights, their neon and/or pastel hair, their Doc Martens, their fishnet tights, and, of course, their copies of The Pretty Reckless' seminal second album Going to Hell. It has just turned ten this past week, and it seems celebrations are in order. The band has shared this little note, for starters, and say that they love you all. Which is just really, really nice.

#today on tumblr #pretty reckless #grunge #taylor momsen #2014 tumblr #tumblr girl #2014 grunge #going to hell #burn #the pretty reckless

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comfortless · 5 months

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hades! konig and persephone! reader

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.

notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕

A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.

When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.

It should have been left at that.

She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.

He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.

Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.

Yet, she never does.

König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.

She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.

Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.

All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.

He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.

The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.

“Why does he never speak to us?”

Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.

It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.

The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.

It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.

He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.

The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.

“Look at this one!,” she calls out.

Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”

König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.

“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”

“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”

“But… I want it.”

She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.

The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.

With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.

She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.

Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.

“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.

He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.

If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.

“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.

He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.

“I brought you here.”

She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.

The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.

She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.

His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.

“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.

A mere taste wouldn’t do.

Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.

“You are to be my wife.”

That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.

“I don’t belong here.”

König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.

“You will.”

A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.

“How could that be?”

He doesn’t respond.

More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.

“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.

Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.

“Quite… yes.”

She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.

There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.

He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.

He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.

It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.

The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.

She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.

— — —

With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.

Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.

When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.

Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.

Never has she returned with a gift.

Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.

“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.

Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.

He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.

“Did you?”

She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.

“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.

“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.

Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.

She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.

“I don’t think that I understand.”

“You should.”

He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.

She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?

“To tie you to me,” she says softly.

The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.

Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.

#König x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #König #konig #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #cod fanfic

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girlgenius1111 · 3 months

Text

please.

smut. 18+. alexia has a rough game, and needs something different from r. bottom!alexia

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You knew what Alexia wanted solely from the look on her face as she greeted you after the game. Maybe wanted was the wrong word; the look in her eyes was one of need. It was a rough game, ending in a draw. It should have been an easy win, but no one clicked today. It was likely the sheer amount of games the team had been playing, but that didn’t make anyone feel better. It especially didn’t make Alexia feel better, who took every result that wasn’t a win like a personal failure. She was barely hanging on, and that fact was very obvious to you, so you skipped the post game shower, electing to do it at home. Your girlfriend had sped through her own post-match routine, and was waiting impatiently by the door, ignoring everyone.

Alexia was an enigma, sometimes. You knew what she needed from you, but watched as she fought herself on it. She shook off your casual touch in the locker room, didn’t hold your hand in the car like she normally did. She didn’t really even speak a word to you when you headed to the bathroom to shower, completely lost in her own thoughts.

Still, you knew generally what would be waiting for you when you left the bathroom. Some variation of a very vulnerable Alexia, looking at you pleadingly. She always wanted you to do it without making her ask explicitly for what she wanted. You never went along with this, though. Part of what she needed was verbally letting go. Admitting what she needed was very necessary.

Alexia wasn’t waiting on the bed for you like you expected. No, when you opened the door and stepped into the bedroom Alexia was standing right in front of you, like she’d been pacing there. She was completely naked, a sight that normally you’d take a minute to admire. She moved forward, curling her larger body into yours, and pressing something into your hands. Evidently, Alexia hoped that this wordless gesture would be enough for you.

“Hey baby,” you murmured, taking the strap out of her hands and into one of yours, allowing your towel to drop to the ground.

“Amor,” she practically whimpered, so softly you could barely hear it. Her forehead leaned down to press into yours, and you sighed, relishing the close contact. You didn’t love the events that led up to Alexia needing you like this, but you did love when she got like this. So desperate, so needy, only for you.

“Tell me what you need.” You encouraged, running a hand through her damp blonde hair. Her roots were starting to grow out a bit, back to brown, and you loved the simple imperfection.

“Please, amor. It is all too much. Por favor, te necesito.”

“What do you need from me?” You asked again. You needed her to let go, give up control, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw and neck that she was still holding onto it. “Tell me, beautiful, and I’ll give it to you.”

Alexia took several deep breaths, forcing her body to relax, before she spoke. “Take control. Dime que soy buena.” Her words were barely more than a series of hot breaths on your face, and still, you felt a part of you shatter at them. For her to ask for that… you couldn’t begin to conceive how badly she must be feeling, how worthless. You hated how hard she was on herself, more than anything, desperately wished that she would just cut herself some slack, but that wasn’t Alexia. What you could do, though, was what she was asking of you. And you could do it well.

“Amor, you are so so good, telling me exactly what you need. Get on the bed for me, alright?” She sighed in relief in response, dropping her forehead onto your shoulder before she moved. “Do you need the handcuffs?”

You left it up to her. Sometimes, she needed to feel you. Other times, she wouldn’t be able to let go without you making her, without restraining her until she had no choice but to beg for what she wanted.

“Sí”

Alexia headed for the bed, while you got what you needed out of the drawer.

“Blindfold?” You asked.

“No. I need to see you.” She rasped.

You made quick work of attaching the handcuffs to her wrists, and then to the headboard. She pulled at them almost instinctively as you straddled her. Her head raised eagerly to meet yours in a searing kiss. She fought for control on instinct, but went limp under you when you gripped her face in between your hands. Kissing Alexia was the easiest thing you’d ever done, the easiest thing you would ever do. It was completely instinctual the way your lips molded to hers, the way your tongue fit into her mouth, the way you took her face in your hands like she was delicate, fragile.

She was a complete mess underneath you, acting the way you normally did after she’d teased you for hours. She was kissing you back, hungrily, but little sounds were escaping her mouth at the same time, and she was practically holding herself up off the bed in an attempt to get you closer to her. You could have made out with her forever, truly, but she quickly grew impatient, as you knew she would.

“Bebè, I need more,” she whined, clearly not content with only kisses from you.

“Do you trust me, pretty girl?” You pulled back briefly, looking intently into her hazel eyes. They were practically pleading with you themselves.

Alexia shuddered at the phrase, her body twitching under yours. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Then relax. I'm going to take care of you. I.” You pecked her lips in between words.” Love. Kissing. You. Let yourself feel good, Alexia. You deserve it, you’re my good girl.”

“I am?” she whimpered, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen from her before.

It was at this point that you realized a conversation would need to be had later, where you seriously checked in on your girlfriend. This was all about reassurance for her, yes, but never before had she asked you so explicitly to praise her. Pair that with how she was acting even though you’d barely touched her? Something else was going on with her, you were sure. And you’d fix it. Fucking her until she could barely speak was just part of that process.

“You are. My perfect girl, my best girl. Only mine, sí? All you need to do is relax, and focus on how good I'm making you feel.”

“Mmm, por favor,” Alexia hummed. She looked almost overwhelmed with need for you, her arms restrained over her head, hips attempting to jerk up into you, but you wanted to take things slow, ease her into it, in case it became too much.

“You promise to tell me if you need to stop or slow down?” You checked. Alexia could be… difficult sometimes. She was always up for a challenge, and she didn’t like to admit defeat. You were working on getting her to realize that asking for what she needed wasn’t defeat.

“I promise, amor, please touch me,” she begged.

You decided to give in, just slightly, and you left a trail of kisses down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, until you came to pause over her chest. Alexia’s nipples were unusually sensitive, and she normally didn’t want you near them, unless she was really far gone. You looked up at her, a question hanging between the two of you, but she didn’t see it, her eyes shut as her hands strained against the cuffs.

“Amor, do something,” she begged. You stifled a laugh, knowing she likely wouldn’t appreciate it, and rubbed her cheek with your thumb.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” you encouraged.

“Here, please,” she requested, pushing her chest up towards your face. You dusted kisses around it, before you leaned down fully, taking her nipple into your mouth and sucking, hard.

Alexia’s back arched off the bed at the sudden intense stimulation. “Fuck, fuck, sí, amor, sí,” she cried. She was breathing hard, twitching under you. You’d been working at her nipple for less than 20 seconds before she spoke again. “Fingers, amor, por el otro, por favor,”

You smiled against her, partially granting her request as you switched to her other nipple, and brought your fingers to toy with the one you’d just had in your mouth.

“Perfecta, perfecta, mi amor, ay dios mío,” she whined, and you released her mouth with a loud pop, focusing now on sucking deep marks into the skin of her chest.

“No marks, bebé,” she tried, but you frowned at her, shaking your head. She returned your frown, though it looked more like a pout.

“No. I will leave marks if I want. Because you are my good girl, and everyone should know who you belong to.” You weren’t normally possessive, but you made a note to be more often when you saw the way Alexia’s pupils dilated, and her jaw went slack.

Her hands pulled hard at the restraints, as she grew more and more needy, and you could see red marks beginning to form on them.

“Amor, easy on your wrists,” you reminded her, and slowly, her arms relaxed, falling slack in the hold they were in.

She didn’t relent, though, not really, and she forced her eyes back open, focusing on you.

“Please, cariño, I am so wet. Tócame.”

You leaned up off her, kneeling over her as you very slowly slid down her body, spreading her legs as you did so. You hovered your mouth over her core, practically salivating at how wet she was, her pussy glistening and throbbing already. You’d never seen her this worked up before, and you couldn’t help but tease her, just a bit.

“You are wet, baby, you’ve already made such a mess. Who is this all for, hmm?”

Alexia groaned, feeling your hot breath on her. “You,”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

Her face flushed a bright red, but she responded nonetheless. “My pussy, amor, please,”

You had her right where you wanted her, finally, and you got right to work, immediately running your tongue through her, from her hole up to her clit. You licked around, keeping your attention not focused really anywhere specific, not wanting to make her come too fast, knowing that she was likely close already.

“Mierda,” she mumbled in a choked voice, grinding her hips up into your face without restraint. You were really just finding a rhythm, just beginning to focus your tongue on her clit when her muscles tensed on either side of your head, and she cried out loudly.

You froze, stunned that she’d come so fast, with so little stimulation. She must have been even more turned on than you’d thought.

“Did you just come?” you asked, rubbing a hand up and down her abdomen.

“Sí amor, lo siento, I could not stop it,” she whimpered, looking almost close to tears.

You figured the best way to reassure her was to let her know that you weren’t stopping to punish her, so you brought a finger up to tease over her hole, watching as her neck went slack, and her head fell back onto the bed, soft cries spilling out of her mouth.

“Don’t say sorry, baby. I want you to come, as many times as you need to, whenever you want to, okay?”

She could only hum in response, hips jerking as you inched your finger into her, finding that it slid in easily. You let it rest inside of her for a minute, not moving, highly enjoying the way her walls quivered around you.

When you did move, it was rapid, sliding a second finger into her easily and beginning to fuck your fingers in and out quickly. You could sense she was only growing needier, and that she’d want your face close to hers soon, so you took advantage of the remaining time you had eye level with her cunt, and watched as her hole sucked your fingers in eagerly, watched as her thigh muscles tensed, and as she bit her lip.

It only took a couple minutes before she was tightening around you, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“Gon-gonna come, fuck,” she whined, trying her best to warn you this time.

“Come, baby,” you encouraged, and it was only moments before she did, your name falling from her lips repeatedly. Her head twisted, and she bit down on where her arm was held next to her face, apparently unable to stop herself from growing louder.

“So good, baby, you sound so pretty when you come, don’t you?” You cooed at her, and she whimpered into her arm, her teeth having released the skin they’d captured.

She was half brainless, and she didn’t really notice when you slid away from her and off the bed. She was too busy trying to focus on your words, focus on the feeling of you inside of her. You kept saying she was good, so… she must be? Right?

The blonde’s eyes flew open when she felt you bend her knees and push them away from her body, until she was spread open wide for you. You had the strap on, the dildo Alexia normally took attached to it.

She looked from it, up to your face, clearly reading the question you were asking.

“Sí, amor, I want it.” She promised, working hard to keep her voice steady even as it shook with anticipation.

“Good. I’ve wanted to fuck you all week.” You murmured, pressing into her all at once. The moan that escaped her lips was loud and gratuitous, but you knew it was entirely authentic. You knew how to make Alexia come fast with the strap, as that was normally what she needed when you took control, so you angled it just right, gripped her legs in your hands to hold them open, and fucked into her. Hard.

All that can be heard in the room is the smack of your hips meeting hers, the filthy sound the dildo made as it wetly pumped in and out of her, and the quiet whimpers you were fucking out of Alexia.

You fucked her right through this orgasm, barely slowing down even when she clenched tight around you and you could barely move. You kept up a soft grind, cooing at her softly as she writhed against the bed, mouth opening and closing as no sound escaped.

“Amor,” she gasped eventually, “beso, por favor, necesito un beso.”

You leaned down easily, keeping up your pace, as you kissed her. It wasn’t as hungry as it was before, Alexia barely moved her lips against yours, and you knew she needed the contact more than anything. You pulled away briefly, thanking the universe that you hadn’t played the full 90, and could rely on your thighs and abs to keep fucking her slowly, as you unlocked the handcuffs. Her arms almost instantly wrapped around your back, insistently pulling you close to her. Her legs wrapped around your back, too, and she buried her face in your neck, until all you could feel was her wetness spread across your waist, and her warm exhales on your neck.

You sped up again, thrusting deep and hard inside of her, making sure to get the angle just write, as you moved your head to be able to whisper in her ear.

“You are so perfect, baby. So good when I fuck you. So wet, so tight, so fucking beautiful.”

“Amor,” she cried, her nails clawing marks into your back. You didn’t care, not at all. You only cared about the way your girlfriend was clinging to you so desperately, the way she met your words of praise with such insecurity and eagerness.

“I want you to come for me, baby, okay? I want you to come on my cock while I’m deep inside of you. Can you do that?”

“Sí, I am close, so close,”

“Good, good girl. Do you know how good you are? My girl, you are so perfect. Come for me.” You encouraged, and Alexia reacted to your words exactly as you hoped, body jerking and trembling under yours as she came, her loud moans muffled in the skin of your neck. It lasted for a while and you worked her through it, keeping up your thrusts but slowing them down, until you were stopped, still settled deep inside of her. You made to pull out, but Alexia shook her head insistently, clinging tightly onto you.

“Stay, please, not yet.” She requested, her voice wavering.

“Okay, mi amor. Okay.” You allowed, letting your body relax on top of hers, running a few fingers through your hair as you felt her go limp under you, everything relaxing except for her arms still wrapped around your back.

You weren’t going to let go until she was ready, but at the same time, you needed her to talk to you. You enjoyed being close to her, making her scream your name, as you always did. But you were concerned, more than anything. Whatever was wrong wasn’t something that could be fixed by just sex, so you let her take her time, knowing you would be making her talk when she was a little bit more herself. ------

part 2 with aftercare? someone take part 2s away from me.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader

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