#REAPER WRITES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Running a little pâtisserie is quaint, and homey, and should not in any way get you involved with anything shady. Let alone the strange bounty hunter who prowls through your little town like the Grim Reaper himself. And yet here you are, teaching this literal murderer how to use a napkin.

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Also apologies in advance to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

There was a murderer at your window, and you weren’t really sure what to do about it.

Well, maybe not actually a murderer. Bounty Hunters tended not to wind up in prison after dragging back the desecrated remains of their latest quarry. But still. You recognized the black plume tucked slickly into his wide-brimmed, purple, hat, and the pale, bright, bob of his hair was nearly luminescent in the dark. He was certainly the least covert assassin you’d ever seen, and you had seen him. It was hard not to. Traipsing through town to deposit every wayward criminal, every long-lost villain, at the doorstep of who’d ever called for him.

‘Rook Hunt’ you thought his name was, or at least, that’s what the old woman in the market would call him before crossing herself and spitting in the dirt. It was all a bit on the nose in your humble opinion, especially with that strange, twisting, ebony, bow of his strung across his back. ‘Hunter’ indeed. But it’s not like you’ve ever done anything to warrant winding up in one of those dripping burlap sacks of his, so you’d let the dude have his drama. It was probably good advertisement. And it’s not like the guy had ever bothered you before.

You thought that reassurance on repeat as you watched said not-quite-a-murderer stare through the front window of your little bakery, as if your rising dough had been kneaded with the secrets of the known universe. But he didn’t do anything—just kept watching with rapt attention as you brushed egg wash over your pie crusts and swapped trays in and out of the ancient, brick, oven.

In all honesty, he was far from the strangest thing that’d been plastered to your window in the early AM, and it wasn’t like he was licking the glass or anything. So you let it slide.

One of the custard tarts you pulled from the oven had cracked across the top. Nothing out of the ordinary—there was always at least one dud in a batch. Normally you saved the rejects for Ace or Deuce to gobble up (depending on whoever managed to pop by first), but this one you set aside onto a little tea plate. You topped it with a dollop of freshly whipped cream and a spoonful of the blackberries you’d left sitting in sugar overnight. Then you plucked up a spare napkin and made your way out from behind the counter.

When you opened the door to your little bakery, the tingling overhead bell warmed your unwanted guest’s expression in a way that it most certainly should not have—lighting the whole of him with this sort of wide-eyed, innocent, joy that belonged nowhere on the face of someone you’d watched cart literal corpses into town.

“Mon pâtissier!” he chirped. “What a fine morning it is, no?”

The sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. You could still hear the drone of crickets and toads in the distance, basking in the humid darkness of the night.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “We’re not open for,” you glanced at the moon, still full in the sky, “at least four more hours. If that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“Oh—non, non, non,” Rook waved you off. “I just wanted to watch!”

“…Watch?” you repeated.

“It’s quite the fascinating process!” he absolutely beamed. “Taking such basic, individual, components and turning them into something so spectacularly sweet and heartwarming! Quelle inventivité! I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about your marvelous menu!”

‘From who?’ you wanted to ask, because you’d never heard of anyone being able to hold a conversation with this man for more than a stuttered sentence at a time, let alone for long enough to go about giving dessert recommendations. But there was a streak of red blood across his cheek that still looked fresh enough to not even have gone tacky yet, and now that you looked closer, his dark gloves were perhaps a shade too dark to not have been, well…

You sighed and reminded yourself once again that is was absolutely not your business, before handing him the napkin.

He stared at it with that same sort of rapt fascination that had you wondering if this man had ever actually interacted with proper civilization in his entire life.

“Wipe your hands,” you demanded with a huff, and he dutifully scrubbed at his stained fingers. Once he was clean enough that he was at least no longer dripping unmentionables all along your windowsill, you held out the little saucer for him to take.

“Pour moi?” he muttered, looking a bit starstruck.

“If you’re going to say all those nice things about my food, you may as well get to try what you’re complimenting,” you shrugged, and that same eager enthusiasm lit his face all over again. “And it will be a nice treat to take home with you,” you emphasized, with all the intonation of a cheery ‘please get the fuck out before you scare away all my customers for the day.’

But instead of turning and meandering off back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of, he just kept staring at the little treat like he had no idea what to do with it.

“It’s a tart,” you said blandly, fighting the furrow in your brow.

Rook repeated ‘a tart’ under his breath like it was some kind of ancient, forbidden, enchantment, and not like it was literally scrawled into the little menu sign at your door at least a dozen times over.

The Bounty Hunter peered at the little custard treat like you’d handed him a treasure beyond measure. After a moment of carefully poking at the browned crust like it wasn’t literally meant to break apart beneath one’s fingers, he looked back over at you with eyes that were far, far, too green. He lifted the tart up like he meant to give it back to you.

“I ought to offer you la première bouchée,” he smiled.

You blinked, taken aback, and pushed the plate back into his hands. “That’s not how free samples work.”

Rook tossed his head back with a bout of boisterous laughter that should have been loud enough to wake everyone on the block. You glanced around nervously, hoping no one was about to come running out to make noise complaints.

“Ahh~ But how else will I know the best manner in which to savor such a treat?”

“You eat it,” you gaped. And then, slowly, because you weren’t even sure you were dealing with a functional human being anymore. “With your teeth.”

The Bounty Hunter, with his blood smeared cheeks and even bloodier clothes, put all those shiny, pearly whites of his on display in a merry grin. He swept forward in a grand bow that had the feather in his hat bobbing about in a way that reminded you far too much of a wagging tail.

“Of course!” he chirped. “In my home you said, yes?”

Please, you wanted to groan. Go there. Leave.

“Ideally,” you said instead, and Rook ducked his head until that purple hat of his had cast the whole of his face into shadow. He reached up to tap two fingers against the wide brim and tip it forward.

“Merci, merci!” he trilled. “Then I will endeavor to consume this marvelous spécialité humaine in the proper fashion. A very good morning to you then, cher pâtissier!”

He straightened with a merry little hum and began making his way back down the cobblestone road. In the soft light of the setting moon, his footsteps left odd prints in their wake—inky, black, dripping things that had faded entirely by the time you were able to focus enough to get a proper look at them, leaving you wondering if they’d really just been nothing but a trick of the night.

Well, that was fucking weird,you frowned, shaking the fuzz from your head. You slipped back inside and the door jingled pleasantly as it slammed behind you. But then again, when wasn’t customer service a trip? These people were all ridiculous.

Bright and early the next morning, you were waiting for Deuce to arrive with his delivery of a fresh crate of eggs. It was ungodly early, as it always was. But at least there was no hunter at your window this time around—

There was a bang and a screech, and then an unfortunate sort of cracking-squishing-yucky noise that sounded an awful lot like a couple dozen eggs meeting their doom. You frowned and tucked your rag into the ribbons of your apron and ducked out from the backroom with a sigh. Deuce was at the door. Or, well, Deuce was on the ground in front of your door. With the shattered, yolk, remnants of your shipment scattered all around him.

“I’m not paying for that,” you huffed irritably, and your friend looked up with a squawk.

He looked like he was trying to say something, but his face just kept flashing back and forth between deathly pale and a miserable sort of mottled red.

“I—! You—! And he—!”

“Use your words, Spade,” you sighed.

“I do believe he’s trying his best, cher pâtissier!”

You froze, and turned in near-slow-motion to see a beaming Bounty Hunter crouched at one of the little painted benches lined up neatly along your storefront. Not on one, like a normal person. But beside one. On the ground. There was no blood on him today. None that was very obviously dripping down his face at the very least. He didn’t seem like he’d come bearing any ill will, but your Chicken Dealer was still splayed out on the ground—nearly convulsing—so that wasn’t a great sign either.

“What’s going on out here?” you demanded, hands at your hips.

“I do believe Monsieur Spade had himself a bit of a fright,” Rook beamed, and then turned towards your very gaunt looking friend with a soft tut-tut noise that for all its amiability didn’t sound particularly sympathetic. “You really ought to work on your balance, hmm? Alas, all these petits oeufs have gone to waste.”

“What?!” Deuce immediately bristled, on the defensive. “If you hadn’t scared me, then none of these chicks would have had to die so tragically in the first place!”

“For the last time,” you sighed, grinding the heels of your palms into your eyes. “Unfertilized farm eggs are not baby chicks.”

“But Ace said—”

“Enough! With what Ace said!” you snapped, exhaustion and a sore lack of tea, or coffee, or anything wearing away at your already fragile sanity. “Ace would sell you snake oil and cry to your face about you underpaying for it!”

“Oh?” Rook chirped, unfolding himself from his crouch to stand at his full height. He wasn’t particularly gangly or long limbed—not even especially tall, all things considered. But there was something about him that made him loom. From the sharp cut of his purple robes to the harsh, starched, white of his tight collar. He was neat, composed. And yet… very much not civilized. “Is this not a person who wishes you well, cher pâtissier?”

You frowned, something odd tugging at a sixth sense of yours. Just… a little something on the periphery of your nerves, singing that the words you chose now would mean a lot more than they ought to.

You hummed, low in your throat, and considered.

“Ace is himself,” you said finally, “but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Magnifique!” Rook beamed and clapped his hands together with a near lovelorn sigh, all at once perfectly pleasant and soft. “It is such a very good thing to have friends!”

“…Is that what you are?” Deuce asked, enough of that enraged spunk fading away to leave him properly cautious once more. His blue eyes flickered pointedly from the bounty hunter, to you, and back. “A friend?”

You sighed and turned to retreat back into your little shop without a word. Deuce scrambled to his feet to follow you in hesitantly, still dripping with the remnants of too many eggs. You shot him a look, and he immediately darted over to the mop and bucket you kept propped up in the corner. Rook stood in the doorway, nearly just a blur of bruised shadow against the backdrop of the pre-dawn darkness, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye. After a long moment of terse silence, he stepped beyond the threshold with a little hum. He wiped his feet pointedly on your little welcome mat, and then turned to stand at the counter. He fished around in the pockets of his cloak for a moment before withdrawing a strange little flower. He placed it on the countertop with a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his green eyes.

You stepped forward to observe it curiously, and your brows shot up in surprise.

It wasn’t a flower at all. What had looked like the folded arch of soft petals was actually a dainty pair of wings. It was a tiny butterfly—caught in a perpetual sort of stillness. It was bright, and colorful, and so carefully preserved that even when you trailed a flour-coated finger along the thin membranes of its wings, it stayed clean and crisp.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Payment, of course!” Rook smiled. “For the lovely treat you gifted me the other day.”

You sighed, not at all in the mood to discuss the lack of viable conversion rates between copper coins and bugs.

So instead you settled on huffing, “Free samples are free. It’s in the name.”

Rook just kept on smiling, unbothered. Deuce knocked into some set of drawers or other—or maybe the coatrack. Who knew—and you shot him an irritable little scowl. The guy was like a bull in a china shop on the best of days, let alone when he was trying to multitask, and be sneaky about it all the while. The bounty hunter’s grin twitched a bit at the corners, like the idea of your blue-haired friend trying to stealthily keep a watch on him was just the funniest thing.

You glanced back down at the little, frozen, butterfly. It really was very pretty, even if it was a little odd.

When you ducked back behind the counter, you unearthed a blueberry muffin from one of many stacks of trays there. It was little lopsided, and maybe there were a few too many bits of fruit in it. Surely no one would have wanted it anyways.

You plopped it on the countertop, and both Rook’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead. When he made no move to take it, you pushed the confection closer. The wrapper slid along the counter in a heavy, sticky, way. You’d have to remember to wipe it down again after. The Hunter reached out carefully to pluck the treat up between his fingers. He squished it delicately, in a similarly cautious way as to how you’d stroked the little butterfly.

“Is this also for eating at home?” he asked, observing the offering with a wide, wonderous, expression.

“Yes,” you said, just in time for Deuce to nearly annihilate your trash bin. “Please enjoy it.” Please get out. You’re distracting my maid.

Rook Hunt dipped into another of those ridiculous, bobbing, bows and pinched the brim of his hat between his fingers.

“Your generosity continues to warm my heart, mon cher,” he crooned, eyes practically sparkling from behind the sharp cut of his heavily lined lashes. “I will endeavor to return your kindness tenfold! A hundred!”

You waved off his sentimentality with a flick of your wrist and a not so delicate ‘shoo shoo.’

The hunter left your little bakery with a spring in his step and an outpouring of flowery promises that had your head spinning. He melted seamlessly into the shadows of the early morning, and between one blink and the next, he’d vanished entirely.

You would have thoroughly enjoyed the well-earned silence that followed, if not for the veritable storm cloud brewing over your friend’s head.

“Do I get one…?” Deuce asked finally, staring outright at the remaining muffins and sounding small and hopeful. And like that clearly wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

“Maybe if I had the eggs to make more,” you lamented, brushing your hands against your apron.

Deuce made a wounded noise which you had exactly zero sympathy for. You got to work wiping down the counters and sorting through the bits and bobs you’d need to start your day.

“…You know he’s not right, don’t you? That bounty hunter?” Deuce finally said, setting the mop aside. “You must have heard at least some of the rumors floating around town. I don’t think anyone even knows if the guy’s human.”

You shrugged.

“Anyone who has to wake up when I wake up each morning has long given up on humanity anyways,” you droned, only sort of half kidding.

Deuce frowned, clearly unhappy with your non-answer.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” he asked, stern in his fretting. There was still a big ol’ chunk of eggshell tangled up in his bangs.

“When I am ever not?” you smiled, and carefully pocketed the little, blue, butterfly.

When you popped by the market stalls after closing shop for the day, the street was abuzz with all the usual gossipy nonsense that you’d long since learned to let settle at the back of your brain like white noise. You were busy debating if you had enough arms to manage balancing yet another bag of strawberries (they were at their height of freshness these past weeks it seemed, and you were like a little fruit goblin hoarding them while you could), when a particularly shrill bit of chatter worked its way past the pleasant curtain you’d let fall across your thoughts.

“There was another one,” the butcher’s wife whispered in a way that was most certainly not a whisper.

“I heard,” chittered the man who really should have been trying to sell you more strawberries if he’d any kind of business sense whatsoever. He turned on you with a look that meant you were clearly about to be dragged into a conversation you were entirely unprepared for. “It was one of yours, apparently!”

“One of my what?” you blinked back into focus.

“One of your regulars,” he said, like a secret.

“That strange Bounty Hunter came through again,” his coconspirator hissed, with a hand lifted as if she meant to cover her mouth. “He dropped off the body the other day—delivered the heart straight to the Felmier’s porch!”

“Who was it?” you asked, just like you knew they wanted you to.

“Sir Hamlen,” the butcher’s wife said. “You know, that awful toad who could eat you out of house and home.”

That sounded like all of your costumers, and more than half of your closest friends, but you gave yourself a moment to sort through your scattered thoughts and try and connect whatever dots they’d been throwing at you.

“Sir Hamlen…?” you said after a moment, slowly putting a face to the name. “With the terrible goatee?”

They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Rotten pig,” the butcher’s wife piped back in. “Served him right, if you ask me. Everyone was expecting the Crown would put him to death anyways.”

You shrugged again. You hardly knew the man, but he’d always paid you well enough that you didn’t really have any ill will towards him. You went back to fussing over balancing bags of berries, but then… Well, there was something a bit funny, actually. He’d been a loud sort of person, with no filter to speak of. One afternoon, he’d stumbled into your little shop absolutely pissed on cheap drink and all but burping bubbles.

‘You know,’ he’d lulled, dropping a full coin pouch on your countertop. Which you’d taken in its entirely with zero hesitation. ‘I’d die happy if my last meal was these fucking tarts of yours.’

‘Is that so,’ you’d drawled, in the bland way you answered literally every customer who spouted off whatever nonsense was kicking around in their heads.

‘Aye,’ he’d sighed, practically stooped over. ‘Gonna have to pry ‘em outta my cold, dead, hands.’

“Huh,” you muttered, thoughts wandering back to a pair of bloody gloves and the little treat you’d pressed into them. Huh.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

@novaloptr, @imlost-sendhelp, @matcha-berry @preciosayorgullosa @whoretaglia, @kookygirlwholikescookiesandcoke, @nanauedorian, @trixeraptops, @voxnipop, @starkling25, @thedum1, @horcrux-alchemist, @sleepykitty21, @apathicace, @instantregret101, @nekanecorvus, @looney-mori, @re-ducing, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @naughtybodypillow, @rendy-a, @carmen-404, @candy284, @thealiennamedterry, @their-name-is-fake, @huetolog, @glacticrose, @seraphinariddle, @rabioa, @sn00zl4x, @dreasimping, @jeidoreech, @ai-dev, @galaxyshine24-7, @fatally-incorrect, @juulranch, @camrastuff, @nocteetdie, @stargaryengirl,

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Rook Hunt x Yuu #Reaper!Rook #Monster Mayhem #Fantasy AU #Rook Hunt #Deuce Spade #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Rook Part 1

1K notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

Reaper 12

This is 14.1k of pure smut. I hope that makes up for the wait!😇😇😇😇

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings

Warnings- Dom/Sub dynamics, subspace, domspace, spitting, slapping/impact play, degradation kink, praise kink, kink negotiation, mention of knife play, name calling, a mix of mean and soft Dom H. oopses.

-------

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?” Bunny couldn’t help the words from spilling from her mouth. They had just settled in back at the hotel after a quick stop to snack. Harry handed her some chips he’d saved from the airport lounge, wanting to make sure she was full as he took a seat next to her on the couch.

“I have some questions for you, that's all. If you have any for me we can also talk about it.” Harry spoke as he pulled open the bag of chips, “I want to know some more about what you like, yeah? Know I can make them all happen, want to see how you like it best.” He was already feeling himself get worked up.

He placed a few chips in his mouth to stop himself from revealing his true impatience. He loved to tease himself with it, hear her talk about all the things he knew he’d blow her mind with if she let him.

Bunny felt a warmth wash over her under his stare. Harry was like a wolf waiting to pounce, like an animal who enjoyed playing with his food. Her eyes locked with his again, eyes hazy with desire.

“I’m really curious. About a lot of things.”

Harry understood that. He hadn’t been sure what exactly she had been a part of or researched herself besides what she had already told him about the anal play, but he sure as shit was going to find out. “That’s good. Being curious and interested is a good thing. I think… I want to start off with what you definitely don’t think you want to do.” He stroked over her shoulder.

There was so much he wanted to do with her that the list of things he didn’t want to do was extremely small. “I know we’ve had rough sex, I’ve edged you, degraded you a bit. And you’re good with all of that, yeah?” He questioned, slipping his fingers under the neck of her shirt to feel the warm skin of her bare shoulder. Her nod was immediate and eager, making him smile. “Good. I just want to tell you that you can be comfortable with me. There’s no need to be embarrassed or hesitant to bring things up. I want you to be open and honest with me and tell me about the things you’d like to do. Your wildest dreams, things you fantasize about, things you are curious about. Should have had a better chat about this before if m'honest, and that’s my fault for not doing it.” He frowned. “But I’m gonna try to be the best I can here. So open that pretty mouth and get to talkin’.”

“I don’t think I’d be a fan of anything that could permanently harm me, but… I do enjoy a bit of pain.” She had always had an interest in it. Something about the rough touch always got her throbbing, aching for more. “The stinging feeling is really nice. I also don’t think I’d like to do anything too humiliating. I don’t think you would, because you know most of my limits. For most sexual things I’m more sensitive to rejection.”

Bunny knew she could get so into pleasing her partner, that it’s gotten her into trouble before. Sometimes she was so lost in the feeling that she forgot what she previously said she wouldn’t do. It was a shame she’d found out what she hated most was disrespect.

“I just know that I want to feel your touch on every inch of me so much that I feel it on me the next day.” The desire to be marked by his touches and kisses were overwhelming. “Want to give into you, want you to make me.”

The desires were tame, in his opinion. Dislikes basic and very do-able. He wouldn’t ever want to cause permanent harm. Quite frankly, the man would rather die than leave a mark that would last more than a few days. The thought of her in pain that didn’t lead to pleasure made him sick.

“Noted. I don’t think I need to tell you I wouldn’t ever do something that hurt you last fading in a few hours or days. But you like to feel it after, then. The burn, the sting, the ache. I like that.” He smirked to himself, fingers finding her necklace that had been tucked under her shift and fiddled with it.

“When you say pain, what are we thinking? Because there’s a few levels to it.” He shifted slightly, angling his body towards her. “We’ve got spanking, we’ve done that. Hair pulling. Biting. Scratching. All things I'm a fan of. Then you can go on to toys and impact play with them. Paddles, whips, canes. I’m not a massive fan of the cane, if I’m honest. Paddles, absolutely. Whips are a gray area for me. I’ve used them before and enjoyed them, but the person was a true masochist.” He explained. Bunny didn’t seem like the type to like whips, but he also had been shocked she liked anal play, so .

“We have pain that’s derived from pleasure. That’s what I like. Overstimulation. Making you orgasm over and over until it hurts and you’re sensitive- and doing it again.” He licked his bottom lip, knowing he had gone easier on her in the past. “I enjoy what we’ve done but I haven’t gone as heavy handed as I could be. Haven’t been as rough. We haven’t had this conversation properly, so I wasn’t ready to do that.” There was a slight pause. “You know subspace, yeah? It happens for dominant people too. S’called dom space. I’d like to venture into that at some point. Haven’t fully allowed myself to do it yet because, if I’m honest, didn’t really give a true fuck about anyone I was with beyond respecting them and caring for them as a human when we’d play like that. But I trust you.”

“Whips don’t sound fun and canes no… but I don’t mind a paddle, though your hands already feel good.” Bunny flirted, already a bit squirmy at the idea. She had a feeling he would be delivering many stinging slaps against her skin, the sounds she was already imagining ringing through her ears.

“Dom space? What does dom space feel like to you?” The girl was genuinely curious. She wanted to make sure that he was also properly taken care of, her hand reaching for his to place a soft kiss to it.

Bunny hadn’t had a proper dom before. She remembered her first time in subspace she didn’t realize what was happening, she just remembered how sensitive she had gotten and how much she forgot about. How easy it was for her partners to take advantage. Bunny had no doubt Harry would get her there and treat her appropriately.

“To me… it feels like I’m elevated. Maybe a little high. I haven’t fully felt it yet, but it’s similar in essence, I’ve heard, to subspace. I’m more aware, though. More in tune with you.” It was a difficult thing for him to explain out loud. “However, I’m okay with no whips and canes. Not my preferred method either way. I like feeling the sting in my palm.”

Harry liked seeing the flesh ripple under the hit, seeing it bloom. He loved watching her jolt and fall back into his hand, fingers digging into the sheets or curling into a fist as the hit strike went straight to their stomachs. The sound of it, the sharp snap, all of it appealed to him.

“And for us… I think aftercare will always be important. It usually is, but you’re very sensitive and I can imagine that if you drop in that way, s’intense for you.” He murmured, looking at her face as she was deep in thought. This was both an interesting and arousing conversation to have, but he needed safety first. He felt so much for her, he would never want to put any bit of it in jeopardy. “Can y’tell me some about what you’d like from me after doing something intense? Know you love to be held and praised but, do you need more? Something different?” Her needs needed to be catered to. It was his first time doing this with someone who hasn’t actually participated in this, only by accident here or there. He wanted the experiences with him to be as positive as humanly possible. “Anything to avoid after?”

“Don’t want to be left alone, even if we have to clean up or something just take me with you or lay with me.” She knew that for certain. “Probably need some water and something sweet at some point to get me back if it takes a bit, I’ve never fully dropped so I’m not sure what exactly I’d need but… yeah, just don’t leave until you know I’m back.”

Maybe this was a new thing that was developing, but she always had this fear even without the subspace. Abandonment was a tough feeling to navigate, especially having her brother and her dad in and out of the house growing up. Sometimes she worried they wouldn’t make it back, one night her dad didn’t. It seeped through into her sex life and partners, she didn’t want them to leave.

“I know after we do something intense I’ll just feel very vulnerable, so just be gentle and I will be okay. You’re already good at it, you know? I’m sure it will feel amazing afterwards.”

“Okay.” He could manage that. Actually– he didn’t know how he could do anything but gentleness and sweetness to her after the fact. That was something he was usually quite good at with her so far, thankfully. He hadn’t been confident in his ability to be gentle before they’d started.

“I’ll take note of that. That’s pretty basic aftercare from what I’ve noticed so it wouldn’t be difficult for me. I kind of want to take care of you all the time.”

The admission took her by surprise, the smile blooming on her face as she felt heat under her skin. He liked taking care of her? She preened at that. He didn’t even seem like he had much of a choice. It was natural for him when it wasn’t for anyone else, which made her feel especially good.

“Next question is… what are you the most curious about trying? Things you’ve been wanting to try with me or been a bit nervous to bring up. I want you to be open with me and tell me the real things you want so I can make sure you’re satisfied.” He moved his hand out of his shirt to knuckle over her jaw, smiling when she tilted her head to lean into his touch.

“I um…” Bunny was a bit lost on how to properly say the words out loud. It would shocking for him to hear from her, but the thought of it sent shivers up her spine. “You’ve always been really adamant on not laying a hand on me physically, never with malicious intent.” She shifted so she was facing him better. “But that stinging feeling I was talking about earlier, I want you to slap me.” The words hung in the air for a moment. Saying the words out loud made her a bit nervous, “You just… look really sexy when you’re angry and I know that I should probably be scared when I’ve seen you like that, but I’m not. All I ever think about is you fucking the life out of me.”

There had been many fantasies Bunny had about him taking his rage out on her, through sex of course. Perhaps it was something she should work out in other ways, unpack why it aroused her, but she didn’t want to. That emerging side of her wanted to explore it. Her eyes blinked up at him, expecting him to try and convince her otherwise. It seemed like her words only made him think harder.

Harry looked at her, brows shooting up at the request. It was one of the last things he had expected her to say, really. One he had to take a second to think about.

“You want me… to slap you?” He said it slowly, looking at her curiously. Harry didn’t want to make her feel nervous or embarrassed in the slightest, but it was one he was going to tread with caution. “To hit you in the face? I need clarification.” This wasn’t something to assume about.

At her nod, he licked his lip nervously before brushing his fingertips against her heated cheek. “So… explain it to me. When would you want me to smack you?” He questioned, looking at her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. “You’d want it when I’m inside you? Want me to just use my judgment to do it, or you’ll tell me when you want it?” He was full of questions, obviously. “I’m not opposed. I’ll keep it light, I don’t want any marks on your face and I know how to control my strength but, I’m very curious about how you came up with that. Is it something you’ve always liked or…” was it just for him?

Bunny felt playful, pressing a nip to the side of his thumb as he brushed over her lips.

“It’s a very recent thing, it’s definitely something you’ve made me aware of where I wasn’t before the spanking.” She thought back to the first time she felt those initial bubbles of interest. It made her cunt feel warm from the inside, the sting traveled through her in waves.

“I’d want it up to you, but I’ll also tell you if I want it… can deny the request if you need.” It was a layered request, she wanted him to claim a certain type of dominance over her. She was ready to let go for him if he let her. The conversation was making it harder for her to keep it together, but she wanted to see where else the conversation would take them.

“If you want to do it while you’re inside, that’d be hot. I’ll always tell you if it’s too much.” Bunny had a way about her when it came to him. She knew just how to deliver things to get through to him.

“Hm. Okay.” It was a little intimidating, that request. Mostly because he hadn’t imagined it before, never even dreamed of it, but he found that he would probably do anything for her pleasure. As long as it was consensual.. It was fine with him. He would try it. “We’ll try that. I wasn’t expecting that in the slightest… knew you liked spanking but that’s different. You’re gonna have t’tell me if you like it when we try it.” There was a chance she wouldn’t, and he was prepared for that. “It’s okay if you don’t. It’s exploring, isn’t it?” Her nod made him relax a little bit. He’d never had this sort of conversation with someone he gave a shit about.

“I do have some more questions though. I can see you’re getting worked up but I need you to know you aren’t getting a thing until we’ve finished discussing, so keep clenching your thighs if you want, but don’t tease me.”

Bunny was a tease and they both knew it. Harry was a weak man for her, but he wanted to continue. “What do you like so far? When we fuck… what’s the thing you like the most and want some more of? M’assuming a bit of the manhandling, moving you around and being a bit rough. I want to know what your favorites are.” He paused, tucking some of her hair back so he could see her face properly. “Cause I think I want to spit in your mouth a bit more. S’that okay with you?”

“That’s good, yes please.” She nodded and felt a tingle at the way his tone landed on her ears. So smooth and stern, yet so ready to devour her in every way.

“I really like it when you talk to me. You’re really intimidating but it’s so hot… makes me want to climb on top of you, like how you have your way with me.” Bunny was thinking about all of their encounters, thinking about how much attention he paid to her body. How he had made her feel dirty and beautiful. She wanted more.

“I love the way you talk about my body. How you make me wait. You love to tease me but I can take more.” Bunny liked a good challenge. “And um… since we’ve been in the clubhouse I um, I liked the idea of them hearing us. Part of me wanted them to see…” Her cheeks heated, looking down at her lap. That was more of a fantasy, she knew he would understand, but still intimidating to admit. “I wouldn’t mind someone watching if you approved of them.”

That got him interested. His girl was a bit of an exhibitionist, wasn’t she? He was very pleased at the moment, hearing her talking about what she’s liked that he’s done for her, what makes her go wild. He did tend to run his mouth a lot but Bunny liked it, encouraged it. He could see on her face right now that she would more than likely do anything he asked.

“My girl’s dirty, isn’t she?” He sighed, shaking his head with a little smile curled at the edge of his lips. “Like what you added there, at the end of that. If I approve. I do. I wouldn’t mind showing off. I just don’t want anyone else touching you.” That was a firm no go for him. He would blow their heads off. Harry wanted her solely to himself. “I’ll bring you somewhere to show you off if that’s something you’d enjoy. I’ve heard whispers of a club around here that we can do precisely that. But we aren’t going to let anyone else touch you. That’s a hard limit of mine. Y’understand me?”

His face was deadly serious and she felt a thrill go up her spine at it. He was that possessive of her. He’d shared partners before, she assumed, but he wanted her to himself only. The idea was very pleasing to her.

“Yes, sir. I’d love to go. I don’t want anyone else to touch us. They can just watch. I like the idea a lot.” She admitted, squirming again on the couch. The mere thought went straight to her cunt.

“Good. I won’t share.” He shot her a look that she probably didn’t need, but continued. “More hard limits of mine are vomit, bathroom stuff, not super into the food stuff besides whipped cream and chocolate, maybe… no cock cages for me, fisting for me, needles… fireplay. M’okay with wax or knife play but, I don’t want to be stabbed unless it’s a tattoo.” He was somewhat joking. He could see that intimidated her a bit, though.

“Know that’s intense. But I had to list them. I’m open to most things.”

“Oh well— yeah I definitely don’t like the sound of a lot of that either. But whipped cream and chocolate sounds fun. And sticky.” Bunny scrunched her nose at the thought but carried on, not allowing it to distract her. “Wax is good too… the knife play?” Bunny was intrigued but she wasn’t exactly sure if she would like it. “Can you tell me a little more about that? How would that work with us?” She wanted to see his vision, understand the filthy desires he kept quiet about. There was a thrill in the surprise most of the time, but she was in the mood to pick at his brain.

Harry looked so relaxed talking to her, his pupils dilated because he was truly in awe of the sight. Bunny got him going like nothing else, better than any drug or any revenge he’s gotten. His own vice.

“There’s a few ways we could do it. It’s a mix of wild adrenaline and your pain kink.” He teased, as if he didn’t have one to match. “I’d never go deep with it. Don’t even have to knick you. Just holding it to you, letting you feel the metal, the danger of it being close to your skin… it’s erotic. Danger is, I suppose.”

Harry’s whole life was danger. Filled with adrenaline releases and highs, it was something that he found to be creeping into his own sex life as he got older. He didn’t want to make her truly afraid, but the thrill went far. He knew that himself, the feeling of the cold metal running over his skin, even grazing him slightly had been enough to make him go wild.

“Could take the knife and hold it to your thigh. I’ve cut your panties off before, can do that with the rest of your clothes. Cut you out of them completely. Run it over your body. Even give you a little scratch with it. It all depends on your comfort. If you don’t want to, it isn’t a big deal. But I think you’d like it.”

It was really hot when he cut through her panties. That was a fond memory of hers.

“I did like it.” She was almost uncomfortably wet remembering how he looked at her, the slicing sound and her shock of her realizing what he had done. “I think I would like more, a scratch would feel good.” Bunny could already picture it against her skin, she did trust him with her life. He’d never harm her.

Her curiosity was getting the best of her, she wanted to hear more about what he liked. The answer didn’t quite satisfy the aching in her belly for more.

“Is there anything I do that you really like?” Bunny let her hand rest against his thigh, leaning closer into him. She desperately wanted to touch and kiss him, but they were having a serious conversation. It wouldn’t stop her from touching him.

It wasn’t that Harry had anything to hide, he just felt it was obvious. He was very vocal about the things he liked, practically everything she did got to him. The girl wanted to know.

His eyes went to her hand on his thigh, shooting up a brow as he looked back at her. She was trying her best to be good. He could see it, she was itching to be touched and vice versa, but she was holding on. It settled in his stomach, the satisfaction that she wanted to be good for him.

“There’s a lot of things I like. I like when you pull on my hair and you dig your nails into my skin. I like when you choke on me. When you let me use your mouth to fuck.” He took her hand in his own, tangling their fingers. Maybe he was taunting her a little bit.

“I like when you make noise. When you get so worked up that you babble a bit. Lets me know m’doing a good job.” His lips quirked up in a slight smirk. I do like occasionally when you’re a brat and you fight me a little bit, mostly because I like to take over and make you take it. I’ve been a bit tame with you so far with what I’ve done in the past. I’m going to keep going to work you up to more. But I want you to be vocal for me. Tell me what you like and what you want more of. That’s the shit I need for us to keep playing the way you want.” With a gentle squeeze, he released her hand and found her cheek, curling his fingers around it. Her body was practically vibrating with need and he could see it. He could feel it.

“Tell me what you’re feeling at this moment.”

“I feel really tingly…” She didn’t know what better word to use. “I feel like I need you to touch me or I need to touch you. Just want to kiss you so bad but we’re having a conversation and I don’t want to be rude.” Bunny was eager to play, she felt like she had had enough of the conversation now. It felt like it’s been ages since she felt his skin.

It made her feel so nice knowing there were things she did naturally that made him feel good. She rubbed over his hand with her thumb, though she couldn’t move it much. It was as if he was keeping her in place. Bunny kept her eyes on him, waiting patiently for his next move. His next words. She had been so good and planed on continuing. She wanted to get him in the best of moods, make him feel good after all the emotional turmoil they’ve both had.

Harry just couldn’t believe how good she was.

“I’m impressed with you.” He admitted to her. “You’re being incredible for me. Such a good girl.” The two last words came as a soft croon, his fingers gently squeezing her face as she melted into the touch. The praise itself has her toes curling, looking hazy eyed up at him with a new eagerness in her blood.

That was what she wanted. She wanted his praise and to impress him, to get him to be proud of her. That was the ultimate goal. Her restraint had given the desired effect, Harry’s approval making the tingles turn into vibrations in her body. Yes, this was her being his good girl.

“You need to ask for what you want.” He instructed. “Whether I’ll give it to you or not is up to me. But I’d like for you to speak up and tell me what you’d like when you’d like it.”

“Whenever?”

This was a big deal to her.

Bunny had never been one to vocalize her wants. She had always kept them to herself and expected her signals to do the talking for her. That wouldn’t do with Harry, but she liked it in a way. It was a challenge, but she didn’t mind asking him.

“I’m still so needy for you, you know? I can’t get it out of my system.” Bunny didn’t think she wanted to. “You’re going to be hearing it a lot more now.” She couldn’t be shy anymore, if she needed it she would have to tell him. “Because I really want you to fuck me like you’ve always wanted to.” She felt her heart rate speed up. “Want to try something new, but you can surprise me. I like it when you pick for me.” When she got to give up control.

There was something else she knew she was forgetting as she tried to rack her brain, feeling a bit shy when she remembered. “Ah and I really want a kiss before we start.”

Harry sat for a moment, looking at her with pride. She was perfect for him. Bunny wanted to give him what he wanted because it would give her pleasure. He wanted to give it to her. He really just wanted to ruin her. Make her boneless and soft and useless just for him.

“We are going to continue using the stoplight system. Green is good, more, you’re fine. Yellow… slow down. You’re okay but you need a moment or we need to pause. Red is stop. No matter what, red is stop. If you can’t talk, hit or knock three times. Do you get me?”

Her nod was immediate. That’s what she had been missing. Safe word. The intensity of it already had her feeling hot and needy and she had been rushing but of course, Harry knew what was missing. He always did.

“Yes. Yes- I get you, Harry. Can we kiss? Please?” Her plead sounded whiny, even to her, but she couldn’t help it. She was desperate and she wanted to start. “I was a good girl, right? I need a kiss. Please, sir.”

And so it began.

“Come on then. Come sit on me and give me the kisses you want.” He patted his lap, releasing her so she could climb on him.

It didn’t take much for Bunny to fling herself on him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while her cunt pressed over his crotch. Her breathing was deep, heavy with need as she paused to take a look at him.

“You’re so handsome.” She spoke fondly, leaning forward to kiss him in a kiss that was so much warmer than it was needy. Bunny kissed with intention, making sure he could feel how serious she was about this despite her horny mind taking over. Kissing Harry always felt like she was breathing, keeping him close. She took her time leaning further into his warmth. Harry’s hands were already finding their place on her body, smoothing over her hips and perky ass.

He gripped at the skin, kneading and pulling just enough to give her some type of pleasure. Very light, but sensual. His touch felt heavy with desire, every bit of pressure had a purpose.

“I am? M’handsome?” The words were spoken through kisses, right against her lips. Harry was smug. He was cocky and arrogant and it made her throb, the way he knew he was hot and he could give her what she wanted, it made her feel crazy.

“Mhm. So handsome.” She whispered back, needy with her kisses. The girl was barely giving them time to breathe, clinging to him with a need that Harry hadn’t experienced from her before. It was the most he had teased her since their first time together, the conversation having added to the arousal she felt. So desperate to be close to him, to have him all over her.

“Good. M’glad you think so, pretty girl. So fucking pretty, every inch of you. Y’know that? I think you’re the prettiest little slut that’s ever been in my lap.” He drawled, pulling back from her lips despite her whine. “You’ve got the sweetest cunt, too. Best I’ve ever tasted. Gets soaked for me. N’you let me take it bare, don’t you?” His hands pulled her closer. “You’re gonna let me do it again today. Stretch you open, fill you up to the brim. And maybe, if you’re a good girl and take it like I want, I’ll lick you clean. But you’re going to have to be well behaved and listen to every single thing I ask of you.” He nudged his nose against her own, but kept their lips from touching despite her frown. “You think you can handle it?”

“Yes, I can handle it.” Bunny was quick to answer but wasn’t so sure if she could. She was definitely going to try her best. Y/N wanted to see all that he had to offer, to listen to him despite how achy her cunt felt. He knew best it seemed. Bunny was hot, her clothes feeling tight on her skin but she didn’t dare move away from him. “Please don’t tease me too much, I really need to feel you.” Bunny wanted to connect with him desperately. She let her hand scratch at the back of his neck, smoothing her thumb over the side of it to show the sincerity in her tone.

“I will listen, I’ll relax, I just want to feel close to you.”

Their intimacy became the safest place for her. She never wanted that to change.

His eyes softened slightly at her request. As much as he wanted to play, he wanted to take care of her. He was going to make sure she was fully taken care of and her needs were met, but he was a tease. He supposed be could lay off a bit… for now.

“Okay. My sweet girl, you need to feel me inside of you. Is that it?” He stroked her hair back out of her face, smiling slightly at her nod. “Okay. We can do that. Let’s get you ready for me, hm?”

Harry slowly began to lift the shirt she was wearing, exposing her skin inch by inch. “I need to see this perfect body. Perfect cause every single inch belongs to me. Doesn’t it, my girl?” He questioned. “You let me have you as my girl. You let me touch you and kiss on you… you belong solely to me. Every fucking inch of you is mine.” His lips pressed against hers momentarily before he peeled the shirt over her head. “Tell me you’re my girl.”

“I am your girl, always have been.” She meant that as well. In her head she had always been his, it was only ever him on her mind. It was still settling in that he wanted her just as much. Even hearing him say she was his was sending chills up her spine. Did he really mean it?

She was going to believe it for right now. It felt too good to deny.

“I hope you like the sets I wear for you.” Bunny felt like they always got so caught up in the moment, rarely did they take the time to acknowledge them but she was sure he noticed. Bunny has tried her best to match the sets with her mood. The one she wore today was a deep wine color. Burgundy almost, clinging to her skin with lace detail.

She squeezed her breasts together using her arms, leaning into him to steal another kiss while he was thinking. She pressed another to his cheek and down his jaw, smiling to herself as he melted into her. It was her favorite feeling.

“Always. You’re the prettiest girl. Y’know that?” He was lucky. Harry had known that since she had actually given him the time of day. A girl like her deserved a lot better than Harry, but he was going to do his damn hardest to try and make sure he was good enough for her. To make sure he proved his worth just for her. She went around and wore pretty lingerie for him, dolled herself up and the least he could do was appreciate it.

“Love this one. The red….” It complimented her skin tone perfectly. He wanted to have this image engrained in his head forever. Her lips were moving on his skin, touching him and moving as she pleased, but he was letting her. He didn’t have any problems with it, actually. He loved letting her have her way- just for a little bit. “Want you on your knees for me, baby. Don’t do anything without instruction… but get down on them and give me your eyes. Can y’do that for me?”

“Yes, sir.” She slowly made her way down to her knees but not without stealing one last peck to his lips. Her hands moved across his thighs, for support… sure. Bunny just really wanted to feel him up one more time before she fully gave into him and his filthy plans for the evening. Her eyes landed back on his as she settled on the back of her heels, hands folded in her lap on top of her jeans. It was a bit awkward being half naked, but there was also something so hot about being exposed to him. Harry was ready to have her fully naked or fully clothed. She could see it in his eyes.

Bunny’s view from the ground gave her a new perspective on why he always asked her to get on her knees. It was for him to get into the headspace, for him to give into the desires he holds back. She could see his demeanor changing, a wave of excitement rushing through her. They’d never been this open.

“Unzip me.”

His fingers had popped the button already, letting it be a bit easier for her as he sat with his length thick in his pants. He was drawing it out, keeping it moving ever so slowly because he wanted to cherish this. Every single time with her was special, but this was the first time they were going to properly play. Her shaky hands were quick to do as he asked, unzipping the pants and going to reach in to grab him- only to stop. She realized halfway through.

“Saw that. You stopped yourself.” His hand lazily pet over her hair. “Good. Look at that… You’re learning already. S’my obedient girl.” His hand did the honors, reaching into his jeans to fish himself out of them.

His cock was sensitive, his lips holding back a hiss as it was exposed to the cooler air. Thick and heavy in his palm, he gripped it at the base and slid it up towards the ruddy tip, letting his thumb slide over the slit. His stomach tensed as he hummed in his throat at the feeling, watching her distressed face.

She wanted to be the one doing that.

“Hands on my thighs. Don’t move them until I say to.” He instructed, feeling her comply immediately. He could get used to this. “Lean over and spit on it. Get it wet. You don’t get to have it yet, but you can help me.”

Bunny looked at him for approval feeling herself throb against the fabric of her panties.They were ruined. Something about spitting was so sexy to the both of them. Bunny enjoyed watching the thickness bubble up and coat the tip of his cock, how shiny and slick he became all because of her. Even the strands of spit coming from her lips drove her wild. She could imagine how it must look for him.

Her hands stayed still with their grip on his thighs, though she wished she could do a little more. She wasn’t going to test her luck so early on, she could wait. She knew she could.

Harry brought a hand up to keep the hair away from her face, wanting to give her the freedom to move her head as she pleased. Comfort was still the most important to him at this stage.

“A bit more, baby.” Harry was watching it trail down the length of his cock, but waited for her to finish before letting himself spread it. The slick sounds that came from his strokes as he pulled back up seemed to light a spark in Bunny’s eyes.

She glowed with that permission, moving down towards him again and letting another string of spit slip from her pursed lips down to his cock. His large hand was stroking himself slowly, spreading it around as she did so while the other held her hair back, fist loose in the makeshift ponytail. He watched the scene, catching the saliva with his hand and smearing it over the length.

“Christ.” He muttered under his breath. “Thatta’ girl. Knew you could be good for me. Looks good doesn’t it?” He taunted slightly. “Getting me wet just like I asked. Looks nice, doesn’t it?”

Bunny was gagging for it. As much as she tried to be good, she couldn’t hide the desperation. The whole day, hell- the whole trip- had been foreplay. His still slightly bruised knuckles were teasing her. He was doing what she wanted to be doing, her hands tightening on his thighs as she gave him a soft little whine. “Yeah. I wanna taste.” She blinked up at him. “May I please? I want to have it.”

“You want it that bad?” Harry was fond of how eager she was to please him, his grip tightening only slightly. “Gonna stop when I say so? Yeah?” He asked her for confirmation, pulling her head a little closer to him. It was only a bit rougher than usual, but he wanted to warm her up to the feeling.

“I’ll be good.” Bunny promised him, her eyes widen and expecting to be guided down on his cock. She really liked the feeling of him tugging at her hair, it was only light, but she was already pulling her hair back a bit to keep the tension.

“Go on then, give it a taste.” He gave the go ahead, allowing himself to sit back and relax into the feeling of her hot mouth on him. Harry was never sure what to expect from her, the type of blowjob she gave usually depended entirely on her mood. It was exciting for him too, to see her open up to him in such an intimate way.

It sent a thrill up her spine as he gave in to her. She had been waiting for this all day. Part of her had loved the delayed gratification, sure, but there was nothing quite like getting her way. Immediately she took him into her mouth with excitement evident, her lips stretching over him. She focused on the tip, humming in relief as she tasted him on her tongue.

She couldn’t explain it fully, why she loved sucking him so much. With her other lovers, it had been nice but never this fulfilling. Half of it she attributed to the fact that it was just Harry. His approval, his pleasure, his affection was worth ten times more than anyone else she had ever been with. The physical act fueled her. The feel of him against her tongue, the weight of it inside of her mouth, how he stretched her mouth open to have a bit of an achy jaw as a reminder, all of it totaled up to the pleasure she got from it.

His fingers stroked over her head, eyes watching intently as she bobbed her head slightly. That part was just as thrilling, having his eyes on her as she did such an intimate act. She wanted to impress him. “You can take more than that, petal.” He clicked his tongue, hooded eyes looking down at her. “Don’t disappoint me. I want more of me in that mouth.”

Disappointing him is certainly something she did not want to do.

His instruction was all it took for her to take more of him. She took a moment to adjust her breathing and make sure she was going slow at first to get used to his girth. Her eyes began to water slightly as they usually did, but she took him like a champ. It was a struggle, but her need to please outweighed the discomfort.

“Fuck. Knew you could do it, perfect little mouth of yours.” Harry purred, already feeling the effects of relief. Just having her mouth over him was enough, the soft velvety walls were much more appealing than anything else he could imagine. She really was the perfect girl, there all along. “What am I going to do with you?” Harry asked no one in particular, locking eyes with her for a moment only to notice how messy she had gotten. “Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed, S’like you were made for it.”

She felt like she was made for it. Bunny was made for him and he knew that he was made for her. Her mouth had taken him so well, her eyes watering but the eagerness to please overshadowing any sort of discomfort she may have.

His hand pet over her face, tenderly stroking the cheek as he held her hair in the other first. His thumb smeared some of her spit over her chin, feeling her moan around him.

“Love that you’re desperate for it. S’how I feel when I get my mouth on that sweet cunt. You know that?” He thumbed over where her cheeks hollowed, taking him down again with a little gag. “Fuck, love to bury my tongue in you and make you messy for me. Tastes so sweet and you make the prettiest noises.” He pulled her further down on his cock, feeling that gag again and letting out a groan.

Bunny moaned at his words, the vibrations being sent down through his cock. Her eyes had started to water but none of it was stopping her from giving him the pleasure he deserved. His groans and the sight of his clenching jaw were enough to motivate her. He was so confident about what he wanted, never hesitating to pull her closer.

She could take it.

That was the beauty of it all. Looking down at her and seeing her needy eyes, hungry for more. Her tongue expertly rubbed over his most sensitive parts, she’d been such a quick learner. Harry swore there was no one who had known him better.

“So fucking good, came to me all on your own as well… opened up so nicely.” Harry rasped, a proud smirk appearing on his face. “Getting me ready, bet you’ve been soaked since we were in the store, hmm?”

She hummed an agreement against him, sinking down again and holding her spot there without his prompt. The need to make him feel good felt engrained in her, wanting to make her hand herself over to him on a polished silver platter to do whatever the fuck he wanted to her. Getting to pleasure him was her favorite thing to do. The weight of his cock on her tongue grounded her. She was making a mess, but it was out of pleasure.

Her trance was stopped as he pulled her off of his cock, a string of spit dripping down her chin to her breasts as she looked at him confused. She’d been doing good, just as he had asked. Why did he stop?

“Stand up.” The tone of his voice made her shiver. Harry’s demands lit a fire under her, clumsily standing up to meet him as he lifted up as well. His gaze was intimidating, her dazed eyes looking into his darkened ones with need to know what he wanted her to do next.

Luckily he had done it for her. His lithe fingers found the mess on her chin, wiping it up and smearing it on her mouth. “Open. Tongue out.” Obedient, the swollen lips fell open and Harry hummed in approval, taking two spit covered digits and wiped the wetness on her tongue. “Good girls clean up their messes. Suppose that’s why you’re Daddy’s slut.”

Bunny could feel that familiar tingly heat crawl its way up her body, a warmth only Harry could make her feel. She blossomed for him even when his words were filthy, when he looked down at her as if he was ravish.

That’s exactly what he planned to do.

Harry admired the glistening spit that stuck to her breasts, eyes trailing along the wetness until he reached her lips once again.

“So pretty like this, get to have you just how I like now. No distractions.” That alone was getting Harry harder by the second. It was just him and his girl alone in a different city. His city. “Gonna show you exactly how it’s supposed to be, just how I would have done it had I known what I know now.”

Harry promised on this trip they would pretend, but to him it felt like it was also his own fantasy that was coming true. A look into a future he never thought he could have. A normal life with the girl he wanted most.

“You want more, pretty girl?”

“Please.”

The desperation in her voice was enough to push Harry over the edge. She had told him exactly what she liked, exactly what she had been thinking about with him and her fantasies that had been lingering about her brain.

“Such a pretty girl. So beautiful, look at your skin. Flawless.” His fingers moved down her torso, feeling her tense up slightly in anticipation while he caressed her. “Beautiful little thing. Best part is, you’re all mine.” His voice dropped, slowly backing her up to the bed.

Bunny swallowed, eyes wide as she walked backwards as he coaxed her. His tone, his words, all of it was magic and sensual, hot and dirty. He didn’t stop talking and that was something that she realized she loved. How filthy his mouth could be for her. The throbbing between her legs was intense, surely enough evidence smeared on her thighs and wetting the skin. “I am. I’m yours.” She peeped, gasping as he pushed her back and made her fall on to the bed.

“M’glad you know that. Your body certainly does.” Hands urged her thighs apart. “Let me see now. I know you’re soaked. Could smell it.”

Bunny relaxed against the softness of the bed beneath her, closing her eyes to focus more on the feeling of the silky sheets and the roughness of hands over her thighs. She wasn’t trying to fight it this time, relaxing to fully spread herself out for him.

“You really are dripping, look at you..” Harry squeezed the inside of her thigh, rubbing over the skin before smacking his hand right over it. It was quick and sharp, the way she mentioned she’d like. “Could slip right in if I wanted to,” Harry dipped his head down to mutter against her skin, licking over it to soothe the sensitivity.

Bunny’s breathing was heavy, squirming at the new sensations he was bringing to her. His grip stayed tight on her, shifting her legs over his shoulders so he could have better access. “Been squeezing these pretty thighs, but you aren’t asking for what you want…” Harry was unsatisfied with her hesitation, biting into her skin just enough for her to let out a surprised moan. “Why so quiet?“

“Y-you didn’t tell me to make noise.” She squeaked, the sting of his bite making her pant. Bunny loved a bit of teeth, specifically Harry’s. She wanted his marks all over her body. To feel him when she walked. The incessant need to be owned by him was unforgiving.

“So now you’re choosing to be quiet?” He shook his head, looking up at her from his rightful place. Nestled between her thighs, his eyes were dark and glossy, hair tousled and unusually messy from her hands and the day’s work. The man looked edible. Her body reacted to every single part of him, but his beauty was something that couldn’t be compared.

“M’sorry.” She whined. “Wanted to be good. I want…” it felt hard to get the words out. His stare was almost intimidating to her, his hands squeezing over her skin and making her feel his fingertips as his lips brushed over the flesh right above her pussy.

“I want, I want, I want…” he mocked, sneering down at her. “Then say it. Tell me what you fuckin’ want. Or m’going to spank your cunt and jerk myself off onto it. Shouldn’t be this dumb before my cock gets inside of you.”

Bunny really couldn’t make up her mind. Part of her wanted his mouth on her, licking and sucking at her cunt as if it was his last meal. Another part of her wanted to feel his fingers rub up inside of her, forcing multiple orgasms from her with the calloused pads of his fingers. His cock was the most prominent thought in her mind, the feeling of fullness was something she couldn’t erase from her mind.

“I wanna feel full.” Y/N managed to say, hands moving to grab a hold of his. His forearm, his hand, anything to soothe the ache between her thighs. All she could feel was his hot breath on her, not daring to open her eyes and face him. Not when she could hear the smugness in his voice.

“Full?” He let his nose nudge through where her hip and thigh met. He pressed a few kisses there, nipping at the skin. “Not yet. Try again.” Harry wanted to enjoy playing with her body just a bit more. He liked how reactive she was to him and just how much he could test her patience.

“Please?” Her voice frayed, opening her eyes to look down at him. “I want it. I’ve been good.” She insisted, stomach jumping with breaths as his lips kissed over the insides of her thighs. He was teasing her, taunting her. All the girl needed was tom cum, but she had to admit that the way he spoke had her eyes rounding.

“You have been?” He laughed under his breath. “According to who, darling?” Giving it to her too easily would make her spoiled. He knew she could hold out for a moment, so he decided to taste a little bit. His eyes kept their vision in her face as he pressed a kiss over the top of her cunt, letting her wetness stain his lips. “A good girl would give me her eyes when she knows how much I like to see them.” The fingertips pressed harder to spread her legs open, moving his mouth down to brush his tongue up and over her clit. “Christ… Soaked cunt just from sucking me, having dirty conversations. Couldn’t believe it when I found out how nasty and deprived my seemingly sweet girl is. And even still…” he sighed, removing a hand to spread her cunt open for his viewing pleasure. “You don’t know how to ask for my cock correctly.”

Bunny tried her best to sit up, giving him her eyes just like he had asked. It was hard to keep herself up when she was already starting to float away in her mind, but his eyes caught hers and pinned her down. She couldn’t make herself look elsewhere. It managed to snap her out of the haze she was in, sinking into the sensual space they’ve created.

“I do know how…” She argued, breath mirroring the way he was breathing against her cunt. “Don’t want you to stop this though.” She collected herself, though she was still feeling shy about how much she loved his teasing. She loved when he drew it out. His mouth drew closer to her cunt once again and her breath hitched as his teeth grazed the skin and soothed it with his tongue.

“You really like teeth don’t you, baby?” He let the pet name spill from his mouth, he didn’t even realize he’d said it as he continued. “If you want my cock, ask correctly. Know you’re a bit empty, didn’t know it counted in your head too. Use your brain”

He licked a broad stripe up her cunt, sighing in relief as her hand made its way to the back of his head. He liked feeling it there. Normally he’d never let someone touch him without permission, but he craved her touch far more than he anticipated.

“May I please have your cock, sir?” Bunny asked, tugging at the hair at the back of his head. “Can I please feel you fill me? Want to feel you deep inside, want you to spank me, take me sir.”

He chuckled against her cunt, pulling back with the slight shining on his lips as he looked up at her. She sounded wrecked already, the poor thing. Harry’s favorite way to have her. “Look at that, sweetheart. You’ve got a brain after all.” He cooed, the mean words given with a sweet, condescending tone. Pulling his head up, he moved up to sit on his knees as he kept her legs pried open. “You want to be full, I know. The spanking, I can help you with.” He kept his eyes on her as he used his palm to smack directly over her cunt.

She gasped, squealing at the sting. God, did the pain feel good, but it confused her body. It hurt slightly, but it triggered her pleasure. A new sensation for her and a confirmation for him as he did it again, causing her body to jolt on the blanket and give him a whine. Bunny felt hazy and hot, lifting her hips up to ask for more.

“None of that.” He chastised her with a frown. “Keep these legs spread. If you want my cock, you’ve got to be a good fucking girl for me. Know as soon as you get my cock inside of you, you’re going to be useless so m’talking you now.”

Bunny nodded, heaving a bit as the sensation spread in waves through her body. The gentle throbbing made her clench as he kept his eyes on her. “I’ll stay still. I promise, I'm just excited.” Y/N could feel her heart rate picking up, the new level of roughness from him was turning her on even more. The way he mocked her had her jaw going slack.

“Still. Tell me what you feel, tell me if you can handle more. Need to open you up a bit.” Harry couldn’t take it much longer, he needed his fingers knuckles deep inside her cunt. The slickness he dreamed about was just in front of him, the smell he fell in love with. He thought it was time he tested her.

“Gotta stay with me baby, gonna do a good job for me so I can slip right in there. Fill you up like you’re begging for.” Harry let his fingers spread open her cunt, spitting right down onto it. “Been a bit greedy with my fingers, bet you can take a few?” He purred and slipped one finger inside.

She squirmed slightly despite her best efforts to sit still. Never in her life had she felt so empty before, but this whole day had felt like foreplay to her. His attentive nature all day, their conversation, sucking him off, all of it had her nerves on overdrive and ready to burst. His single finger wasn’t enough, but it was a relief. Her little noise had him laughing to himself, seeing her struggle with the efforts to keep her hips down as he had ordered from her. It was almost embarrassing to hear how wet she was, the sound of it audible with his actions.

“More. I can take more, I promise.” She needed more, really. Harry knew that and he was absolutely teasing her, but he loved doing that to her. He’s never gone very far with making her beg so far and their sex had been only slightly kinky, but now it was going to get good.

“You can? Greedy cunt can take some more fingers?” He taunted, grinning wickedly. It shot a fear that morphed into pleasure in her stomach. Harry noticed the way her stomach tensed allowing his free hand to rub over it, preparing her for another finger. He was still gentle, but slipped in with more force than Y/N expected.

“Oh— like that...” Bunny remembered he wanted her to speak up more, vocally guide him through the motions she was enjoying. “Like it harder, like the pressure.” It was as if he was reading her mind, fingers curling to press against her walls with more intent.

“I’m gonna stretch you out so well, love when I knead you open, how you relax against my fingers. Such a greedy cunt, still squeezing me so tight.” Harry breathed against her thigh, looking up at her through his lashes. He lapped up some more of her wetness before shifting up higher on her body.

He wanted to feel all of her, kiss her and fuck his fingers up into her till she was screaming for him to stop. Harry swore he never wanted to fill someone so badly, to take them and make them feel him for days. Another finger dipped inside causing her grip on his hair to tighten.

“Fuck me…” Bunny squeaked, feeling the burning sensation crawl up her thighs. Relaxing into the pain, the slow rocking of his fingers, the way he bit just along her neck. She was lost in it.

“M’gonna, angel. Don’t worry about that. All you’ve got to do…” he placed a sloppy kiss to the sensitive spot right underneath her ear. “Is be my good girl n’do exactly as I say. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

She keened at the feeling. His fingers were filling her up and stretching her just like he had promised, but it wasn’t enough. Bunny had always known that she was needy for him, for his attention, for his touch, but it felt extreme right now. His hot tongue on her skin and the ends of his hair tickling her, the fingers fucking into her cunt nice and slow, it was enough to send her mind into a tizzy.

“Please, please, please, please… fuck me.” She sulked, trying her hand at begging again. “I’ll be good, I’ll be the best girl, just want you I-inside.” She stuttered, eyes wet with frustration. It felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get what she needed.

Harry’s lips paused on her neck where he had been leaving traces of him, slowly moving up to peck her own. They curled up, a laugh against her mouth feeling especially cruel. “One more please. I don’t think you really want it bad enough.”

“Please.” Bunny would say anything to get it from him, Harry was aware of that as well. His excited Bunny had never been good at waiting, he was expecting her to put up a bit of a fight. “Wanted you on the other day and on the plane, waited all day today while you were talking dirty and teasing me, I wanna be good— don’t you like how tight I feel? Wanna feel how deep you can go. Please sir.”

She’d been spoiled rotten with sex, Harry couldn’t bring himself to say no. It was hard to do so when she brought out the most primal parts of him, he had focused on her body and was going to have his way with it. With just a little more patience.

“Such a needy cunt I have, been nothing but nice to you and it’s still not enough.” Harry chuckled, moving his fingers just over the spot that made her shake. “What are you going to do when you can’t have me?“ Not that Harry was ever going to leave, but the thought of her crying and begging for his touch did make his cock ache.

That wasn’t a thought she liked to have. Why did there have to be a time where she can’t have him? She was his and he was hers and she wasn’t liking that idea at all. “No- no, I always want you. Can always have you, always.” She babbled, pressing herself against him. “Give it to me, give it to me, please.” A little sob left her mouth as she cried out in frustration.

The fingers weren’t enough. She needed the closeness, the fill that only he could give her. She wasn’t usually demanding but this was driving her absolutely mad.

“God, you’re such a whiny fucking brat.” He sighed out, taking his fingers from her cunt and slapping over her cunt firmly. Harry loved getting her to this point. He had usually given in, not wanting to push her too far in the past, but now that he knew she liked it? He wasn’t going to deny himself the answers to his curiosity. “Keep these legs spread. I’m going to give it to you, and you better not fucking complain. You get me?”

“Yes, sir. Please.” Bunny nodded, feeling out of breath with all the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had been right about her love of pain, hell, she hadn’t expected it to be this good. The sting was enough to have her hissing.

“Never seen you this desperate for my cock.” Harry chuckled, using his hand to grip her jaw. He was feeling himself start to let go, the dominance inside of him had grown comfortable with her. “You’d say anything for me to stuff you full right now.” He used his fingers to tap her face, as if to brace her for the slap that followed.

Bunny took a sharp breath, body going limp in submission. She herself hadn’t expected it to work so well.

“Give me your eyes.” He waited before removing his hand from her jaw. “Color?”

“Green! Please, sir— ah” Bunny felt his cock brush against her cunt. She had been in such a haze she hadn’t realized he stripped the rest of his lower half, leaving him in a shirt she was sick of seeing. Harry had managed to push them farther back up the bed, pulling her thighs up and over his shoulders.

“Y’want it deep? Fine” Harry didn’t hesitate to push himself past her puffy, slick folds and into the dripping cunt he’d been teasing for what felt like hours. “Fuck…” Harry breathed as he filled her in, grinding against her so she didn’t miss an inch.

“Good girl, take it… you want it deeper?” His voice grew darker, pushing himself even deeper just to hear her gasp for him again.

“Please, please, please, please…” the word fell from her mouth like a prayer as she tried to catch her breath. It was overwhelming. His cock was stretching her open despite the preparation, her eyes watering as he got her to a point she hadn’t been before. This level of need, the want to please him was lighting her nerves on fire.

“Please? You’ve got some good manners when you get what you want.” His voice was fuzzy in her brain for a moment before she felt his fingers dig into her legs. All she could focus on was the feeling of him. He was all over her, inside of her, his hands on her, his taste in her mouth, all she could think about was Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Her Harry.

“God… y’look so pretty like this, baby.” He whispered, dragging his fingers over her heated skin. Her legs erupted in goosebumps, not unnoticed by the man who felt satisfaction flood his body. He was the only one capable of getting her to this point. Sopping wet, begging, teary eyed and desperate to do anything for him. “This is what y’were made for. Made to please me, to be a hole for my cock. And you fuckin’ love it, don’t you?” He cooed, sweat beading on his brow as he gave a shallow thrust. “You love being mine.”

“Yours, yours, I’m yours, I love it.” Bunny cried out, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent the tear from falling but that didn’t seem to make a difference. A hot tear rolled down her cheek, her body buzzing with pleasure.

Her vision was blurry from the pleasure, the sound of her breathing grew louder as she slapping of skin led her closer to her peak. Her thighs tingled, stomach clenching as she took in the sight of his sweaty form. His muscles were tense, accenting all the ink on his body. He looked more relaxed despite his aggressive thrusts. He was finally giving her what she needed.

“Does it feel good princess?” He leaned down to kiss her cheeks, “Want me to keep working you into this mattress? You’re doing such a good job.” He breathed between kisses. “I can feel how close you are… you can let go baby, know you’re going to cum over and over again.”

The look on his face was so lustful, so intense. He was owning her. Bunny felt her cunt twitch around him. He was right, he’d keep going and going while she squirmed around in ecstasy.

She had been teased all day long. It wasn’t a shock to her that she would be close quickly, but this level of swiftness had her gasping. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Harry knew exactly what strings to pluck, what places to touch, what words to say. He was her ultimate dream.

He was hitting her perfectly. The slam of his hips into hers, holding her down, keeping her close to him, stroking her just right to make her body shake slightly with each thrust. She couldn’t get enough. The heat rose through her body as each fuck into her had her slipping onto the crest, head flooding her stomach.

A sob left her throat as she thrashed under him, his hands keeping her still as the last band snapped. Cumming all over him, she made noises she hadn’t ever before as her cunt pulsed around him, slick and hot while he fucked her through it.

“Yes, yes… that’s my fucking girl.” He snarled, smile feral as he watched her body tremble underneath his as she came for him. “Cum all over my cock. You’re perfect.” His praises washed over her, dropping her legs and moving to hover over her properly as he kissed her. He wasn’t going to give it up, keeping himself buried in her in short thrusts as he relished in the feeling of her hole clenching up around him, but he was giving her a reprise. “I know. I know, baby.” He cooed. “Feels so good to be fucked the way you’ve needed. Needed me all this time, didn't you?”

“Mmmmm” Bunny breathed out a heavy whine, at a loss for words with how alive she felt. The orgasm was still settling in. Her body was left pliable, completely at his mercy, though she was feeling more confident than ever before. Her nails were digging deeper against the skin of his back, dragging his body into her. “So long, I’ve wanted you like this.”

Her tone landed on Harry’s ears like honey, he could hear how turned on she was though she was so relaxed into it. He knew she would soon slip into sub space if she hadn’t already. He could feel her hands moving over his back, how she melted further into the sheets when she saw his smile.

“Use me up, want to be covered in you.” Y/N was willing to push some limits, Harry would know what she was ready for. “It’s even better than I imagined—“ Y/N’s eyes rolled back at the extra roll of his hips that he managed to sneak in. “I want to cum for you again.”

“Covered in me?” He crooned. “Filthy girl. You’ve already covered me with your cunt. Creamin’ all over my cock. Made such a fucking mess.” He could see it when he looked between them. The mess she had made from her pleasure, how wet she was solely for him. He hadn’t seen anything more satisfying in his life. This pretty girl, all his.

“You will cum for me again, baby. Again and again and again…” his lips brushed her ear, shallow thrusts making her stomach jump. “Because you’re mine, aren’t you? My sweet little toy.” He pressed wet kisses against her jaw, sliding a hand behind her neck to arch her up and closer to him. “All mine. My mouth to kiss, my body to touch, my cunt to fuck. I own you.” Pulling his hips back, he thrust into her hard, stealing her breath. “You belong t’me. My girl. Gonna keep making you cum around my cock until you’re sleepy, barely able to take anymore. And you’ll take it because you’re my perfect little slut. Can’t believe how filthy you’ve shown me you are.”

Bunny’s back was arching up off of the mattress as the pleasure moved up her body, she was lost in the difference she felt post orgasm. With her body still sensitive, each lull of his hips made brought her higher and higher. Her moans were full of surprise, each feeling overwhelming in the best possible way.

Harry knew just how to guide his hips in the right spots, controlled and calculated. Reading her body was easy, he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for it to be this easy. He was lost in her, his hips picking up their pace as her breathing started to pick up again.

“Know it’s a lot, yeah? You like it don’t you?” Harry needed the confirmation, he could see her eyes starting to glaze over. “Getting drunk on my cock, my sweet little slut? It’s okay, get spacey if you need to, I got you.” Harry was itching to get her to another orgasm, desperate to hear her screams for him.

Her vision was blurry as she let him wreck her. Harry was absolutely correct. He was getting her drunk on him, making her mind fizzle out and all she could begin to focus on was how good she felt. Her body was buzzing, like her nerve endings were on fire. His fingers had dipped between them to stroke over her clit, making her heavy breathing quicken.

It was so easy for her body to give into him. Part of her felt sensitive, almost overstimulated, but she loved the feel of his hands on her. “Y-yeah…” she whispered breathily. “So good. I’m hot.” Her words were slurred slightly as she let her eyes roll back, the beginnings of her second orgasm rolling over her. It felt like a chain reaction. The constant stimulation, the fullness, how safe she felt with him, all of it made her body open to his needs.

“There we go… absolutely stunning.” He grinned, watching as her mouth fell open. “Almost there. I can feel it. You’re gonna give me another one so quickly, perfect body was made to be fucked.” He nuzzled his face into her, biting down on the skin to make it sting.

That snapped the band again, a sob leaving her mouth as she dug her nails into his back. Cumming hot all over his prick, she shook under him and let out a pathetic whimper as he fucked her through it. Her mind was mush, heart beating out of her chest as the second orgasm crested. She could feel it, how wet she was making him, how she was soaking his cock, his deep groan as he felt her contract around him. She hadn’t had two in a row that felt this intense. “Oh my god.” She laughed, eyes rolling back as he pressed up against her as he kept her full while she came.

“There she is. Y’good?” He stroked sweaty hair from her face, moving it from her mouth. The check in was for both of their good. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer. “Color?” It was their first time truly playing and he needed that reassurance.

“Green. Green. M’so green, Daddy.” She mewled, eyes peeling open to look at him. His beautiful face, flushed and glistening with sweat as a tendril of hair curled over his forehead. His jaw was tight as he slowly ground into her, keeping it light as she recovered. “Do what you want with me.”

Harry took that green light and went with it.

Pulling up, he placed her legs up and gripped her thighs in his hands as he looked down at where they were connected. “You’re such a messy slut.” He groaned, pursing his lips and spitting right onto her cunt. “Rub it in. Go on.” There was a carnal lust, a primal urge to get messy and slick and have his scent on her and his cum inside of her. He was possessed, needing to get one more out of her. Her hand stroked over her clit, moving the mess of slick over her as he thrust in deep and slow. It was a warm up for the final.

“That’s good, enough.” He whispered, squeezing her thigh as he sped up a little bit. Y/N didn’t want to stop, though. As much as her clit felt a bit sensitive, the slight pain felt good. There would be a deep rooted ache in her core tomorrow, she would remember exactly what happened with every move she made- and she loved it.

“I said that’s good.” His voice grit out, looking down at her in warning as he watched her fingers circle her clit. The sight was too good. Watching her breasts bounce and her skin ripple as he thrust, her glazed eyes and swollen, messy lips? It was porn to him. Seeing her fingers touch herself was too much. She didn’t stop, though. Looking into his eyes, she smiled and continued the motions. Her face was smug, and Harry didn’t like that.

She continued her disobedience as she felt the pleasure coming back, his cock stroking deep and making her feel that fulness she had always wanted. It was a thrill to disobey for once, wanting to see what he would do. His jaw was tight as he glared down at her, giving her one more chance to pull her hand away- but she simply shook her head. It felt too good, his cock paired with her stimulation and then she felt it.

Slap.

It happened so quickly. Her head moved to the side, a sting in her cheek. His hands dropping from her thighs and striking her face, not hard enough to make her ache, but enough to definitely feel it. His hand gathered her hand, pinning it to the bed as he snarled down at her. “What did I fucking say?”

A thrill went down her spine as she stared wide eyed up at him, her skin still stinging from the slap as he glared down at her with a look in his eyes he hadn’t shown her yet. “Are you that fucking cock dumb that you can’t listen to directions?” His thrusts sped up, looking down at the wide eyed girl underneath him. Her body jostled, a weak moan escaping her swollen mouth. “Huh? Didn’t tell you to keep touching that filthy cunt. Thought you were a good girl.” He spit, shaking his head. “Now look at you. Gushing all over my cock because I smacked you. I’ll do it again.” He warned, getting closer to her face. “I’ll make you fucking listen to me, brat. Knew you couldn’t be a good girl.”

Y/N let out a wet gasp, shaking her head as her brain started to swim. The shift in position had him right where she needed him. Her body was disgustingly hot, sweat dripping down her face as he got her closer and closer. It was pathetic, she knew. She was out of her mind, but the feeling that the hit had given her had gone right to her blood. Fueled her in a different way than sex had before. “Sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry, Daddy.” She whimpered out, trying to free her hand but to no avail.

“Yeah? You’re fuckin’ sorry?” He mocked in her whimpery voice. “Too fucking bad. Showing what a whore y’are. Cock’s too good for you, innit?” His grin was wide as he watched her nod. “Yeah, s’too good for a dumb little cunt like yours… Too fuckin’ bad it’s the only one I want.” He could see it, physically see it on her face how much she liked that combination. The degrading, the reminder that she was the only one he wanted. It was the beginning to her end.

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum.” She cried out, looking slightly panicked. “Please let me, I’ll be so good. I can’t-” She gasped as he gripped her face with his free hand, roughly holding her chin as he fucked into her without that control he used to have. He was fucking her the way he wanted to- and it was so good, it hurts.

“Hold it.” He grit, feeling his own coming on. He had never wanted to cum so badly in his entire life. This was the best sex he had thusfar, feeling his sweet Bunny clenching around his cock, sopping wet and enjoying his rough treatment. When she began to squirm, he repeated the slap, this time a bit rougher. “Impatient slut. My own personal whore, like being hit in that pretty little face. Shouldn’t let you cum at all..”

It was too late, though. That had sent her over the edge. She had tried, really. She really didn’t want to disobey, but the hit, the words, the perfect strokes into her cunt? The girl crumbled. A silent scream leaving her mouth as she took him, hips bucking up and moving down as she tried to escape the punishing thrusts. “No more- ohmygod, I’m sorry, I can’t-” She clenched her eyes shut as she tried to push him off, but he didn’t budge. It was too good.

“Fuck- fuck!” The struggling, the cunt clenching frantically around his cock, he couldn't hold on anymore. A growl escaped his throat as his balls tightened, cum pouring into her. The hot load fucked into her, his face burying against her own as his hips stuttered. White hot pleasure washed over him, her free hand dragging her sharp nails down his back as he grunted with each thrust, getting it inside of her. “Every drop. Take it.” He hissed, panting. His nerves felt like they were on fire, dipped into flames as he felt her body shaking under him while he filled her up.

Y/N mewled, eyes rolling back as she fell limp underneath him. The heat of his cum somewhat soothing, body twtiching slightly as he got deep one more time before stopping. She could feel his cock pulsing, cum weakly being shot into her as he finished his orgasm- but now she was hazy. Her mind clouded, slipping down into a lax state while she laid back, feeling his lips press against her throat.

They laid in silence for a moment, Harry’s arms trembling slightly as he lifted up to look at her. “Baby?” His gruff voice had softened, no more steely tone to it as he watched her lay still with her eyes close. “Hey… sweetheart. Need you to open your eyes n’tell me if you’re alright. Check in.” He leaned down to kiss her lips chastely, watching her eyes peel open and take him in.

“Daddy?” She croaked, brinkley wetly up at him as her lip started to tremble. “Thank you. Need you. Please.” Her shaky voice made him coo, lifting a hand to push her hair out of the way and wipe the sweat off the best he could. “Was I good? I’m sorry. I didn’t listen.”

Harry had a feeling that would happen, but he was quick to reassure. “No, none of that. My perfect girl. Did so good for me. Came for me three times… Just perfect. M’so proud of you.” His voice was the most soft he had ever heard himself speak. Then again, he never had wanted to take care of someone like this before. Aftercare was important for all, but for this girl? He would do anything for her.

“Really?” She blinked up at him, hand reaching to him to place it on her cheek again. “I just want you happy. I want to make you proud. I feel so good.” She rolled nudged her face into his hand as his thumb swiped over the skin. She was definitely in some sort of subspace, had been slipping into it all day. Thankfully, Harry was somewhat prepared.

“You always do. M’so happy you shared yourself with me.” He replied, leaning over to grab a few tissues from the side table. When she began to fuss, he comforted her with a kiss to the forehead, returning to his spot. “Not going anywhere. Just want to clean up. I think we should do a bath in a few minutes. What do you think?” He nudged her to open her eyes that had drifted closed again. “Hm? Need those pretty eyes, baby.”

“Yeah.” she peeped. “So sticky.” The mix of cum and sweat, while erotic at the time, was uncomfortable to lay in. “Can we cuddle? Please?” There was a slight hesitance in her tone, as if he would say no to her about anything at all. As if he wouldn’t hand her the world in the palm of her hand if he could. She had no fucking idea how much she meant to him, how he would do anything he could for her. She was his angel, his temptation, his treasure.

“Always.” Lips pressed against her own, exhaling as he pulled back. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N. Anything at all. You’ve just got to ask.”

“Never leave me.” The reply was quiet, mumbled into the warm, sex stained air. “Keep me. I need you.”

His heart stuttered in his chest at the request. He wasn’t sure she would always want that- but for as long as she did?

“Promise. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be yours.”

501 notes · View notes

junipers-insects · 1 month

Text

Held

#please please please write more fanfiction with these two I swear I've read everything I could find PLEASE-#utmv #undertale #sans #undertale au #sans au #utau #geno!sans #reaper!sans #geno sans #reaper sans #afterdeath #geno x reaper #reaper x geno #my art #art

336 notes · View notes

galacii-gallery · 2 months

Text

A Dance with Death.

Shattered, the dream which broke was alone after everything. it wasn't long before his body was defying the new form it was taking… flashes of red pulsed through him, he winced, hissed even before clenching his teeth.

in the distance there was a figure dressed in black. he wasn't expecting another to be here with him. In this place which held most of his memories. "Who?…"

Death responded in kind. "You know me well, though perhaps I faded in your dreams many times." he smiled "too many, and yet here you are in another… repeating, in a different way this time."

Shattered was surprised, though then not so much- he laughed realizing who it could be "My only guess can be death." he then manages to get out "I had thought you would've been bored of me by now."

the deadly figure shakes his head, then reaches out his hand. "No, if anything you have piqued my interests.. there's only been a few who can avoid my dance."

Shattered responded, saying this "You should know why I've been avoiding it this time, fighting it." he looks to his hands "It's the first time things have changed, you should know this."

not sure if I posted this or not just yet

#art #myart #my art #au #aus #utmv #oc #doodles #reaper!sans #shattered!dream #writing #not sure if people would like more writing #just let me know and I might make shattered dreams a fic and just make comic stuff afterwards

245 notes · View notes

reaper-chan666 · 2 months

Text

More random Snake Hybrid! Reader headcanons:

CW: Slight mentions of blood, gore, injuries, and snake behaviors, also, soft Gaz and Ghost hours.

Snake just got off the helicopter, caked in mud, dirt, dust, and whatever grass they had on your last mission, not to mention the blood and guts from the enemies you killed. You looked terrifying, like you had rolled in all of it for a week.

Price gave everyone a chance to do generic debriefs on the way back, with the promise of more in depth ones later, after everyone was clean and ok.

Snake was wearing a muzzle, their pupils still blown wide, and acting aggressive, their snake instincts taking over, especially after Gaz had been shot. They were plastered to his side the whole ride back, hissing at anyone who got too close.

Back ar the base, Ghost gently grabbed them by the back of their neck, immobilizing their head, and picking up the rest of their body right after, taking them to the showers, or in Snake's case, the tub. The 141 men learned really quickly, that their snake Hybrid HATED the feeling of showers, it was too much for their skin, so they got a tub installed and one of them would always stay close by when Snake needed to bathe, just to make sure everything was OK.

Snake was wriggling as best they could, trying to get out of Ghosts arms, but the tank of a man held strong, and got them into the bathing room. With slight struggle, Ghost got Snake's gear off, and got them mostly undressed, leaving them in a tank top and their shorts they always wore under their uniform pants. He held Snake close and softly murmured to them, getting them to calm down enough that Ghost could bathe them without either person getting hurt.

After the bath, Ghost was able to determine if Snake was injured, thankfully this time was minor scratches from the environment they were in, and got them dressed in comfortable clothes, before leading the still muzzled hybrid to the med Bay.

They entered the med bay, and Snake made a beeline to Gaz's side, making sure he was taken care of well. Once they determined that Gaz and Ghost were both good, Snake's pupils returned to normal, and their body finally relaxed. Gaz removes the muzzle and apologies flooded from the hybrid's mouth, which they were quickly hushed by Gaz and Ghost.

They spent the next week with Gaz during the day, and at night in Ghost's room, which made the task of keeping them calm a lot easier.

Ghost and Gaz would hold Snake and reassure them that everything's fine, and that Gaz would be back at training in no time.

End.

A/N: should I give Snake a nickname? Or callsign? Or do yall like them being referenced as Snake, and making your own?

#cod #hybrid reader #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #reaper chan's writings #not canon #cod hybrid au

186 notes · View notes

grinningreaperwrites · 11 months

Text

Magical Girl Power! Episode 1: Pilot

From the concept: 'Magical Girl, but only girl sometimes!' Grian, Scar, and Mumbo are a team of reporters investigating Magical Girls in Hermit County. Allegedly, Magical Girls are simply a form of Spirit that come through the Rift to fight the Rogue Spirits invading this dimension, but when a Rogue breaks through the Rift itself, Grian discovers just how a Magical Girl is made.

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47311924

It’s unclear how the Boatem Village founders became aware of the hole in reality at the center of town - if they specifically chose the location because of the Rift, or if the Rift later called out to them. The Spirits that occasionally appear from the Rift were probably involved, though. Rare, magical creatures have that kind of effect on people.

Allegedly, they’re also just as sapient as humans, but that might only apply to the Spirits with human forms: the Magical Girls. The subjects of the documentary Grian and his team are currently researching. Even though they show up to take down the Rogues that attack the city, no one has ever managed to figure out where they go. What is a Magical Girl like when she isn’t throwing laser beams and glowing hearts at giant monsters?

Well, hopefully Grian can find a Magical Girl, which is historically the sticking point in everyone else’s attempts. But he does have a team of highly competent researchers and camerapeople on his side, a cool office, and probably too much free time, so he thinks he’s got a pretty good chance.

He pushes the door to said office, and spots his two friends chucking uncapped markers at each other while covered in sticky notes.

Okay, maybe he just has a team. Grian can already spot inkblots on Scar’s side of the office, where he’s managed to dodge Mumbo’s attempts.

“Hey guys, I see planning is going well,” Grian calls, and his teammates both yelp. Scar even throws his marker! At least it hits one of Grian’s binders instead of his clothes.

“Oh, h-hey Grian! We were just, uh, testing the new equipment!” Scar says, smiling like a cat that just knocked over a plant.

“They’re very… colorful?” Mumbo adds sheepishly, examining the sticky notes attached to his suit. Scar managed to splatter him with far more blue ink than Mumbo returned with red.

There is a pause, then the three of them cackle.

Grian attempts to lean against the door as support, but it opens the entire way to bounce off the doorstop and smack him as he wobbles upright. They laugh even harder, and it takes a good five minutes for them to calm enough to settle down and actually start planning out a research and filming schedule.

Scar is the only one who might have any scheduling conflicts as he is occasionally called in to his brother’s company while the man is missing, but Grian and Mumbo are determined to keep Scar from moping in his labyrinthine house. It turns out that, despite what Grian walked in on, Mumbo was indeed thinking up what they could try in these early stages.

“Do you remember the field trip to the Observatory every year? I could probably run the tour by now, just ‘and here we have the weird tiny zoo where the Spirits we’ve captured do strange things we can’t account for with science,’” Mumbo asks, approximating a tour guide’s cheery façade.

Scar giggles as Grian lifts his head from his notebook.

“No, neither of us grew up in Hermit County,” Grian hums, considering. “Did they really take you every year?”

“Yeah, there was always someone who tried to break into the Spirit observation pen to try to get a Magical Girl to appear – we are not doing that,” Mumbo adds hastily, when Scar claps his hands.

“Sure, sure, I wanna see the little Spirits!” Scar says.

Grian and Mumbo both stare at him until he pouts, though the gleam in his eyes undermines any sincerity of the action.

“I promise I won’t sneak in anywhere!” Scar says, and Mumbo and Grian look at each other for a moment, trying to gauge if they should push it.

Grian shrugs, and Mumbo sighs heavily, ruffling his mustache. Then he pushes back from their table and holds out his hands like he’s framing a scene. This time, he tries to imitate the narrator of a nature documentary.

“And here we have a Crystalline Pixie. Despite having a name and physical proof of their existence for decades, we still haven’t found a way to get them to stay in our weird plastic log enclosures,” he narrates as he pans slowly across their office.

Scar bites down on his hand even though it fails to muffle his laughter, and Grian smacks Mumbo in the shoulder, clicking his pen before scribbling on the page his own cheek had rumpled earlier.

“No, no, that might work, right?” he mutters, and his friends lean in to try to read his notes upside-down. “If we’re going to have some sort of breakthrough, we should probably prove we’re not just making things up – that we know what we’re doing, right?”

“Do we?” Scar asks, tilting his head to the left just like a cat.

Grian glares at him, and then at Mumbo’s apologetic expression for good measure.

“If we do our research, yes, we should.”

This time, Mumbo and Scar share a look while Grian scribbles out plans in some of the most ornate chicken scratch to still be legible writing. Maybe. They aren’t looking at it from his perspective.

Scar leans forward to tug some of the early sections of script towards him and picks up a glitter gel pen.

“Well, I guess we have to pad runtime somehow. Do you want this as the opening or are we still doing the fight compilation as a hook?”

“Ah… we should definitely keep the compilation, people love those,” Mumbo answers.

They continue to brainstorm, and at one point, Mumbo gets into contact with the media outreach team for the Rift Observatory. He manages to set up two tours of the facility: the standard tour he remembers from field trips, and a special ‘backstage’ tour for grown adults with professional jobs who are responsible. He tries to not eye his chaos-minded friends too obviously when the manager makes that joke.

They give him the most angelic smiles they can muster.

- - - - -

Scar’s sleep schedule is just horrible, so on the day of the tours, Mumbo and Grian show up at his house at about 11:30, and Grian presses the doorbell approximately fifteen times before Mumbo even steps onto the porch. The bell barely clicks on this side of the door, but Grian continues to tap at it as Mumbo pulls his phone out. It’s the joy of pressing buttons! Also, Grian can hope that somewhere in his warren of a home, Scar is being menaced by doorbell noises.

The curtains to the left of the door shift wildly, and Jellie pops up in the window. She puts her little kitty beans on the glass and meows silently, and Grian waves at her with his free hand. Then there’s a clatter from behind the door, and Scar yelps loudly.

Grian continues pressing the doorbell even as Scar opens his door. Now, he can hear as it buzzes faintly deeper into the house.

“Hi guys! What time is it?”

“About thirty minutes until the tour,” says Mumbo, batting at Grian’s hand. “You’re still in your pajamas! Have you even eaten?”

Scar beams at them brightly, then lunges to pick up Jellie as she toddles towards the open door. She wriggles in his arms until her claws are digging into the spaceship diagram spread across his pajama top, and Scar jerks his head into the depths of his house.

“Come on in, we’ll be even later if we have to chase down Jellie!”

Mumbo and Grian wander in behind him after Grian hits the button one last time… Twice. Okay, several times. He also shuts the door behind them, as Jellie is still peeking over Scar’s shoulder.

“How about we make food while you get ready?” Grian offers when they turn somewhere in Scar’s labyrinth. It’s oddly quiet. Even knowing Scar’s brother is missing doesn’t mean Grian stops expecting to hear him tinkering somewhere.

Scar immediately spins, making Jellie mew, and grins at them before turning down a different hallway.

“Yeah! That’d be fun, maybe.” He drops Jellie gently and pushes open a door, then sweeps his arm out dramatically at the revealed kitchen. “I dunno what I have, go nuts!”

As Mumbo and Grian enter, Scar ruffles Grian’s hair, already poofing out of its updo. He squawks and spins, but Scar is squinting his eyes shut from smiling and misses Grian’s glare.

“Oh yeah, maybe we should make waffles,” Mumbo says.

Grian whips around to stick his tongue out at Mumbo, too, and huffily begins tightening the pins in his braids again.

“Just because my hair isn’t long enough to stay in a bun otherwise does not make it a waffle,” Grian protests. “None of you ever bother with more than just combing your hair. The braids are nice! They add texture!”

Ignoring Grian’s long-running argument, Scar points a finger-gun at Mumbo and says “Good luck!” before wandering off.

Mumbo and Grian stare at each other for a long moment.

“I can’t think of anything better to make,” Grian admits, defeated. “He better have enough milk.”

The looming appointment doesn’t manage to dampen their spirits, and they successfully keep Jellie from jumping onto the plates of waffles set out by the time Scar ambles back in with still-damp hair. He flops onto the table and stretches his arms out over the edge, then is nudged by Jellie. At his other side, Mumbo sets down a plate and bumps it against his elbow.

They all eat an entire waffle in pleased silence. Well, Jellie eats small, cut-apart waffle pieces mixed into her kibble very loudly. Then Grian actually looks at what Scar put on.

“Scar, do you have anything …red?” Grian asks.

Indeed, Scar has managed to put together an outfit that is anything but red. He also may have mixed multiple suits together, because his suit jacket is lavender but his pants are striped orange. Compared to Mumbo’s simple black suit and Grian’s red jumper and tan slacks, Scar is notably… bright.

Patting down his jacket, Scar hums. “I might have a bow tie? Oh! How about this?”

Out of his sleeve, Scar pulls an entire white chrysanthemum. He spins the stem in his fingers, then tucks it into his breast pocket. Mumbo giggles while Grian squishes his own face in his hands.

“No, no, I meant red so we all match, kind of!” Grian huffs. “Not an excuse for close-up magic. Where did you even hide that?”

Mumbo giggles louder. Adopting a put-upon expression, Scar opens his arms and leans back from the table.

“I’m getting into character! I know we’re not recording voiceover yet, but we might need some scenes of me talking to people there, right?” Then he flexes his wrists, and two more chrysanthemums pop out of his sleeves. He twists his hands to tug them out, and offers one to each of his friends. “Hey, if you wanted to match…?”

Mumbo and Grian burst into laughter, and Jellie chitters from the floor.

- - - -

The lobby of the observatory is chrome and glass, which reflects the visitors’ bright colors in an almost garish display, and that’s even on days when Grian and Mumbo didn’t accept Scar’s offer of ‘matching’ outfits. Okay, mostly they just accepted the chrysanthemums. Grian has tucked his chrysanthemum into his bun like a pom-pom, Mumbo has acquired gloves in addition to placing his chrysanthemum in his own breast pocket, and Scar has gained a lavender top hat, a light blue sash, another handful of random flowers, and, of course, a red bow tie.

They are very brightly-colored in this very austere and science-fiction-y looking place. Scar waves at small children as they walk up to the welcome desk, and the secretaries smile at them with the air of people vaguely alarmed by whatever is in front of them. Whoops?

Grian smiles politely back and wonders how often random people show up dressed like Magical Girl groupies.

“Hello, we’re the team working with the Hermit Gazette. We have a meeting with Doctor Plays at twelve-oh-five?” Grian asks.

Mumbo leans over Grian’s head because he is unreasonably tall. He can probably see the secretary search up their entry. She directs them to a specific door, but before any of them even touch it, it slides down and reveals a blonde man in a lab coat and huge blue goggles. He’s visibly delighted to see the three of them, and claps his hands.

“Hello, hello, hello! I’m Doctor Zedaph Plays, I’m going to be taking you through the back today,” he says, and Scar bounces forward to shake his hand first.

“Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Scar, this is Grian and Mumbo,” he beams.

As they are introduced, Grian and Mumbo wave, then accept a handshake in turn. The doctor steps back to let them into the corridor, and they descend into the metal innards of the Observatory. There are colored lines on the walls and strip lighting recessed into the ceiling, and it feels like Grian has stepped into a spaceship. He makes a note to add that to the script. Scar will like saying something to the effect of “a ship to another world – the Spirit realm buried under our feet.”

Current Scar, though, is staring at the walls and glossy windows with huge eyes. He almost trips into Grian as he attempts to watch a different scientist set up a model Doctor Plays explains as “a representation of our current understanding of the Rift and what lies immediately beyond it.” It looks like a cornucopia being used as a Jack-o’-lantern; a gray, coiled cave full of purple light.

“Kamino,” Scar mutters under his breath.

“What?” Grian tips his head back and scrunches his face as his bun shifts.

“Mumbo didn’t say he went to Kamino every year,” Scar elaborates, clarifying nothing.

Doctor Plays does laugh, though.

“Oh, we don’t have clones here,” he says, and Grian finally remembers the scrap of Star Wars trivia Scar is enchanted by.

Mumbo makes a few baffled noises. “I- we’re underground! I didn’t think ‘ooh it’s like we’re on that rainy planet with the Boba Fetts!’”

“But aliens!” Scar protests. “There’s aliens and science!”

Everyone giggles, but then are cut off by a sudden beep. A door opens behind Doctor Plays, and he waves them in.

“We do kind of have aliens, that’s true!” he says, and then sweeps an arm over the intricate glass displays and little tanks within the room.

Though the actual wall material is the same white as the hallway, the floor is glass over a maze of metal and grates. The maze… doesn’t seem to have an exit, unless some of the grates along the walls move. Inset within the walls are cross-sections of burrows, like ant farms, except the burrows are about the width of Grian’s hand.

Doctor Plays steps out onto the glass shielding the maze, and spins in place.

“Welcome to the Lab-yrinth! Here, we are testing endermites’ navigational memory,” he explains, then strides over to one of the terrariums as the team enters. “Currently our primary research subject is named Mike! Would you like to meet him?”

Every member of the team gasps in delight and practically cheers. Doctor Plays smiles and flicks on lights within the terrarium. As the shortest member of the team, Grian doesn’t have to lean over to examine the contents. A lump of what Grian had assumed was bedding uncurls like a rolly-polly, and scurries up to the glass when Doctor Plays waves.

“Hello Mike! Would you mind demonstrating for our guests?”

It is unclear if Mike is capable of listening, but Scar and Mumbo clap in excitement. Doctor Plays’ grin widens, somehow, and he starts fiddling with several controls to the left of Mike’s terrarium. Several things clunk mysteriously out of sight, and Mike scuttles down a burrow and disappears.

“So, in simple terms, Mike enters here,” the doctor explains, pointing to a grate along the same wall as the terrarium. “And then we measure how long it takes him to get to that one over there, the blue one. The maze stays the same, and the time will display here.”

There are already many times displayed, formatted as ‘name’, ‘date’, and ‘time’, several of which are attributed to Doctor Plays himself. Grian points them out as the they all settle against the wall while Mike is presumably being loaded into the maze entrance.

“Oh, yeah! We also tested how well a human driving a little remote-control car with a camera on it could complete the maze. I’m the fastest, but then, I also designed it.”

Grian and Mumbo chuckle, but Scar claps and then grabs his hat as he leans over.

“Mike’s here! There he goes!”

The endermite peeks out of the grate as it slides slowly to the left, then shoots out until he reaches a wall. Antennae twitching, Mike rotates in place slowly.

“Is he like an ant? Does he leave a scent trail, I mean,” Mumbo asks, as Mike pauses and starts frantically wiggling his antennae.

“Possibly!” says Doctor Plays. “No chemical traces have been found, but given that we also can’t explain how the Rift works, it might be leaving marks we cannot sense.”

Mike continues to ping-pong his way throughout the maze, cheered on by four grown men sitting cross-legged on the floor like kindergarteners for story time. He backtracks about three times and investigates two dead ends, and Scar clutches at Grian’s shoulder every time as if Grian can do anything about it. Well, maybe he could, given that Mike seemed to react when Doctor Plays waved earlier, but if there’s one thing Grian remembers about science, it’s that you do not interfere with the experiments.

When Mike finally toddles into the grate under the door, a little success tune plays and lights flicker their way around the screen as it updates. Doctor Plays stumbles upright and presses his hands to his mouth as the computer reshuffles the scores - no, results. This is science, it’s just cute.

Again, Mumbo and Scar loom over Grian’s shoulders as they all lean in.

“Six minutes!” the doctor cheers, spinning in place.

Over Grian’s head, Scar asks, “Is that good?” as Mumbo crouches down to peer into the burrows.

Grian says “Does he get a treat?” at the same time.

Doctor Plays laughs, and steps around them to the set of shelves next to the door.

“Yes, he does, and yes, it is!” he says, opening a big bucket of something. “Sometimes I sit here for upwards of ten minutes, but I haven’t had to in a while, which means he might be memorizing it! How cool is that?”

He pulls open a hatch high on the wall, because everyone is taller than Grian, and pours in little brown and purple seeds onto the surface of the terrarium. Mike winds through the burrows until he’s over Grian’s head, only visible if he steps back.

The other three don’t have to. Mumbo and Scar make ‘aww’ noises and Doctor Plays coos at his Spirit.

This sets the tone for the other rooms along the hallway. Hallways? Grian couldn’t navigate out of the Observatory if he tried. Maybe the Lab-yrinth is just a small-scale test if the Spirits could escape, too. There are a lot of them, though Grian could not tell you what most of them were like. The biggest he can remember was a cow with mushrooms, though maybe the glowing, floating bush could have been. Grian’s favorite is the one they met right before the scheduled break.

Like the reptile room at a zoo, there is a long, darkened hallway full of small exhibits displaying different Spirits, including more endermites. It’s much prettier than Mumbo’s earlier description of “plastic log enclosures.” Doctor Plays knows every single one of their species names and has stories for every single one. The very last Spirit is displayed beside a huge window to the room the Rift is in, and the eerie purple light washes over its enclosure so thoroughly that Grian can’t tell what color anything within should be.

Draped over a branch like a scarf, a ferretlike Spirit with many wings is intently eating a piece of fruit. Its feathers shimmer in the purple light, making the eyespots on its wings appear to blink. As they approach, it flips around on its branch to shove the treat into its mouth rapidly, and Grian is instantly entranced.

“That is a Watcher! It is the only one we have on record, so it is rarely out here. It was fiddling with the controls for the Rift overseer when it was found – nothing was damaged! We think it liked the glowy lights. It certainly cries when there isn’t any purple light,” says Doctor Plays.

Grian settles down on the floor before the exhibit, and Scar giggles.

“Did we tire you out?” he says, voice dripping with fake concern. “Aww, we went to fast, he has to take two steps for every one of ours!”

Mumbo snickers, and Grian smacks both of their shins.

Grian huffs, then asks the doctor, “Look at it! Does it glow? I can’t tell, with the lighting.”

“It’s reflecting the Rift like black light! Under normal light, its feathers are pink and white. The eyes aren’t visible at all, usually, which is how they’re blinking now – they’re just tipped out of the light,” Doctor Plays explains, also kneeling.

Scar and Mumbo settle down, too, and listen to the doctor explain how the feathers are constructed that lets them do that, and also something about chickens, but Grian is intent on watching the little creature finish eating and ripple around its branch to jump to the ground.

It comes right up to the glass, and Grian squeaks.

“Hello, you are very cool,” he whispers as it bumps its nose against the glass.

Scar leans into Grian’s side and coos, then there’s the click of Mumbo’s shutter indicating he’s taken a picture. That’s fair. He’s taken a lot of pictures, since the Spirits aren’t afraid of humans at all; they’re curious and willing to play along with the strange people staring at them.

Unlike with the Spirits in the experimental wing, the Watcher doesn’t have a specific area to interact with it, but that doesn’t stop the team from playing finger tag with the tiny creature. They set their hands on the glass and try to pull back before the Spirit taps at them. Scar is really bad, because he keeps curling up to laugh and missing the Spirit’s movements. To be fair to Scar, though, the Watcher also keeps tripping over its own wings. Not designed for ground movement, huh, little beast?

No one is keeping score, and Grian isn’t even worrying about how to add this into their project. It won’t be hard, though. Cute Spirits are very on-theme. Depends if they mind the cameras, really.

Eventually the Watcher flops in the leaf litter and puts its frontmost pair of wings over its face, its entire body rippling with its breaths.

“Aw, did we tire you out, honey? Okay, we’ll leave you be. We have to see the big purple light, after all,” Scar coos.

Bidding the tiny creature goodbye, they finally make for the exit and the viewing room beyond. Similarly to the waiting room at the front of the building, it’s sleek and minimalist, but the purple lighting makes the scene far more sinister.

“Wow, it kind of looks like a rave,” says Mumbo.

Or a rave, yeah, sure. There are no windows separating this raised section from the area below, only a guard rail. The floor beneath is bare concrete, and along one wall is a huge screen with a digital face on it, like a Tamagotchi. It also seems to have hands, and is manipulating the massive array of buttons and levers that run along the length of a countertop like the control room of a spaceship. There is a person with a clipboard also pressing buttons, and Doctor Plays calls down to them.

“Hey, E.X.! Anything interesting?”

When they look up, E.X. is wearing a full mask, which makes Grian a little nervous. Is there some kind of protection standard Doctor Plays forgot to explain? That seems far-fetched – Doctor Plays loves explaining – but maybe, hopefully, it’s just for those on the Rift floor. E.X. seems unbothered by their bare faces, at least.

“The bot insists something is happening, actually. The spikes are getting more frequent, sure, but they’re not any more intense,” they explain with a shrug.

The robot whirrs loudly and its display changes from a face to a readout, like a heartbeat monitor. The doctor and E.X. both tilt their heads to the left, and Doctor Plays even catches his tongue between his teeth as he squints at the screen.

“Is it spiking whenever that thing looks through the Rift?” Scar asks, pointing.

Looks is too passive a word; the Spirit is tearing at the purple tendrils still obscuring its form, flailing toward the opening. Just as Grian registers the black shape, larger than any of the Spirits in the rooms before, alarms blare, and Scar grabs him by the shoulder.

“It’s crossing over! Back, we need to call in a team-“ Doctor Plays calls out.

He is interrupted by something whizzing past Mumbo’s outstretched fingers and embedding into the wall, followed closely by several more. Scar pulls them both down, hissing under his breath, under the sound of the Spirit screaming. There’s the shriek of twisting metal, and Grian peeks through the railing to see that the robot is trying to hold the big Spirit – no, the Rogue – back. He can’t see E.X., and the Rogue screams again and launches the projectiles from its throat into the robot’s screen.

It starts fizzling, arms jerking wildly, and the Rogue in its grasp screams louder. Doctor Plays opens the door back into the Spirit Hallway, pushing Mumbo through, and shouts something under the sirens. Grian really doesn’t want to stand up. The alarm is too loud, pressing at the corners of his brain he tries to hide so he doesn’t freak out in public, and Scar’s panting is fast against his shoulder.

“Under the tables, try to stay covered as we move?” Grian suggests, slipping his bag off his shoulder so he can fit.

Scar nods, and slowly starts scooting backward to the seating area. Grian takes a deep breath before he digs his shoes into the tile and rolls into a crouch. He’s small enough that his head is still behind the bars supporting the handrail, and with his feet under him, he could run if he needed.

The Rogue is far bigger than the other things he used to run from.

Scar is coiling himself up beside a table instead of continuing to slide towards the open door, the hall beyond, and Doctor Plays and Mumbo peeking out from behind an ‘employees only’ door. Grian shoves him in the shoulder while the robot tries to stick its hands into the Rift. Unfortunately, the Rogue is gripping the sections of bent metal in its arms, and the robot can’t shake it loose.

Scar pokes Grian back and rearranges himself so that he’s crawling instead. Why didn’t he start like that, honestly, this is why Grian is their plan guy.

Every molecule of confidence in the plan he just thought up ten seconds ago vanishes in an instant when the robot shakes the Rogue again while it is tearing at an arm, and the metal snaps at just the right moment for the Rogue to be launched right in front of them. It crushes the guardrail and skids into the wall, scattering furniture and ceiling squares. The alarms are still blaring, but Grian puts a hand over his mouth anyway, going as still as possible. The Rogue breaks the loose arm’s grip and throws it towards the door, which makes the entire floor shake and the wall collapse.

They’re trapped. Really, properly trapped, Grian still half-tucked under a flimsy plywood coffee table like it’s any kind of shield at all when there’s a giant monster screaming at the ceiling loudly enough to make his ears ring and his vision spotty with an instant headache.

This is, of course, when Scar decides to be brave.

He rolls onto his back and carefully stretches an arm around the edge of the tabletop, patting along it with his hand spread like a spider. One of the random knickknacks on the table he’s under – probably a model of something – is roughly hand-sized and ball-shaped, and Scar seizes it. With a flick of the wrist, the bauble sails the scant few meters between them and the Rogue and impacts with the window into the Display Hall.

Whatever kind of glass the window is made of, it’s much stronger than the bauble, which shatters into shards and some kind of liquid the purple lighting tints into a reddish stain. The Rogue spins, raising strangely delicate antennae and twitching wildly.

It roars, greenish lights blinking along its spine and claws.

Grian wobbles, scrambles to catch himself as his vision goes momentarily blank. Even though he’d just complimented its sturdiness, the hallway window is cascading down into shimmering piles. Did the screech shatter the glass that finely? Grian’s blurry vision isn’t helping, but it looks like sand.

The Rogue takes a swing at the wall, and Grian attempts to tuck himself more securely under his table. With the dull roar over hearing loss, he feels more than hears his head thunk against the plywood. Grian might’ve made a pained noise the Rogue can somehow hear over the blaring alarm, or maybe even that faint sound attracted its attention as it whips around again.

This time, the greenish lights ring around its open mouth, an odd sideways opening in its chest like a second maw, and it sniffs jerkily as it lowers its head.

Grian stops breathing.

The Rogue is blind, he thinks. It has no visible eyes, unless the lights count, and its antennae wave madly as it tries to locate him. He hopes the desperate beating of his heart isn’t audible to it, or that Scar doesn’t do anything dumb.

Technically, his prayers are answered.

In practice, the Rogue tires of sniffing him out and swipes its huge claws across the room, shattering tables and exploding couch cushions.

Grian curls inward, but that doesn’t save him the second the Rogue’s claws brush against his back. It roars as it tightens its massive fingers like a toddler excited at retrieving a toy, and Grian goes limp as the sound shakes his bones. He’s definitely screaming now, even though he could’ve sworn he was almost out of air and despite the Rogue’s current crushing grip.

Scar decides to be brave again.

He screams his own war cry and something crashes. Did he kick the table at the Rogue? Grian wriggles in its hand when it rumbles, though he can’t do a thing about it if it screams again.

Instead, it throws him.

The claws prickle into his ribs briefly, and then whirling air. He flails, yells, then impacts with glass. The alarm is still blaring, but this time he hears it shatter. Then he also feels it as the shards cut into him, and he covers his face like it’ll help.

From this distance, the Rogue’s roar is bearable. Then Grian remembers Scar is still in there, and he jerks upright, shedding shards of glass. To his surprise, he recognizes the window he flew through: the Watcher’s exhibit, which means he was just launched almost fifteen feet into glass. How is he not… concussed? Dead?

“Hello?” says a soft voice behind Grian.

He whips around to the best of his ability, cuts burning across his shoulders, but only the plants and rocks forming the walls of the terrarium are visible.

“Hello?” Grian repeats, flicking his head back and forth.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t catch the glass, I wasn’t prepared…” says the voice.

“Catch?” Grian repeats, again, even more baffled.

A curve of what Grian had thought was bedding uncurls and flaps as the Watcher crawls out of a corner to jump into the air. It ripples like it’s swimming, until it’s eye level with Grian. It’s wringing its front paws, like an anxious person, and Grian isn’t sure he didn’t hit his head.

Especially when it speaks.

“Ah, my name is Xelqua! I wasn’t intending to end up having to Choose, but, well…”

The Rogue screams, and it – they? - look over their shoulder and then take a deep breath.

“As a Spirit of the Song of Fate, I can combine my power with humans to assist them against Rogues,” Xelqua says.

Half-convinced he’s hallucinating, Grian lifts a hand towards the Spirit. Encouraged, it drifts closer, wings rippling.

“I wasn’t intending, when I was lost, I really only wanted to escape, I didn’t think I’d need to, but,” they reach out and set a paw on his outstretched fingers. “Would you accept this bond, so that as one, we may channel the Song of Fate to defeat the Warden loose in the other room?”

If he isn’t imagining this, that sounds pretty important. Actually, it sounds like the exact thing the team was looking for, but the wording is just vague enough to be concerning.

“My name is Grian, if you, ah, missed it earlier,” Grian says politely. “What does that mean, exactly? What would I have to do?”

Xelqua nods fervently, which ripples all along their body, blinking their eyespots. They put another paw on Grian’s hand.

“All you have to do is allow me to empower you so that we take on the form of a being capable of fighting the Warden. I need a person from this side to do it, to properly channel my magic.”

The entire building shakes as the Warden roars and something else is thrown through the broken window, this time missing the enclosure and skidding down the hallway. It isn’t Scar.

Grian makes a snap decision that he’s probably hallucinating and that his day can’t get any worse. This is actively denying that he’s really curious, because that sounds like Xelqua is going to give him magic powers, and he literally would not be here if he didn’t think that sounds so unbelievably cool.

“Okay, let’s do magic.”

Xelqua suddenly presses all of their weight into Grian’s hand, the eyespots lighting up with pure, white light. Then the rest of them, a bright wave dripping over their feathers and fur and onto Grian’s hand. It’s warm and fuzzy, then searingly hot, but Grian can’t pull his hand away. In a single, sickening swoop, it spreads over his eyes and sinks into his bones until his whole body is fire. Terrifying, but painless. The sounds of the Warden crashing into things and screaming fades out, and a melody rises in its place.

The Song of Fate.

The music swells around him and he closes his eyes and relaxes into the tide, the fire replaced by air and energy. Though he should be constrained by the mossy ground of Xelqua’s enclosure, his body wants to move, and the cuts and bruises don’t pull at his muscles when obeys. Something soft brushes along his spine and his awareness spreads along it, fanning out over two- four- six new wings, then a tail, stretching and folding as the whisper of a touch wraps around him. As if left by a kiss, a burst of warmth spreads outward from his forehead, just between his eyes.

Everything hangs, for just a moment.

Then the magic reaches an internal balance, yet a tipping point for this transformation. To the outside eye, barely a second has passed, and yet, a new being kneels in the ruin of Xelqua’s enclosure.

The last ripple of magic fades from the air, and Aria, Bow of Fate, opens her eyes.

She launches herself forward as the alarms break the moment, and dives through the broken window. The Song of Fate still whispers in her ears, guides her motions so her wings and dress don’t catch on the tattered glass. They unfurl again as she lands on the remnants of the platform’s railing, and the movement kicks up dust from the crushed pieces of concrete.

While the Warden abandons the tables it’s ruthlessly smashing, Aria fails to locate Scar. He was closer to the door, wasn’t he? Did he climb up when Grian was launched? The Warden sniffs at her, and she readies her wings, fingers itching to twirl the Song into a weapon.

There’s no blood. No red blood, at least.

The Warden’s faintly-glowing navy blood speckles the concrete, though Aria can’t see where it is wounded. If something chased it into the Rift, she hopes it doesn’t follow, but if the robot cut into it when it was trying to return it, well. That seems like a weakness she could exploit, if she gets a little range.

She pushes off of the railing as the Warden processes she’s there and takes a swipe. It screams at her, of course, but she can scream back, hitting a note that makes power coil in her hands and drift into the air. Like bubbles, they float on the current of her voice, their iridescent shells glint with the Rift’s energy like her eyespots.

Banking around the robot’s sparking head, she loops the song back in on itself, and the orbs turn their false eyes to the Warden and home in. A high note, and they detonate, shards spraying across the whole room but sailing harmlessly through Aria’s body. She can’t quite remember the lyrics to create any eyes with special effects, but the noise of them shattering makes the Warden’s antennae flutter with irritation.

Then they whip to the left, as something clatters up on the platform. Aria jerks backwards as the Warden whips around, but the new sound has completely absorbed its attention.

“Well, hello there!” says Miss Hawkeye, casually leaning over the precarious edge. “Haven’t seen you around before.” Her head tilts, and though her eyes are hidden behind dark glass, Aria feels the weight of the other Magical Girl’s attention. “Either of you! Hello!”

Aria waves, and Miss Hawkeye jumps down as the Warden launches another supercharged shriek into the balcony.

“Well, at least one of you is friendly!”

“Ah, yes,” Aria finally manages to say, forcing herself to form words instead of the Song. “The big guy is definitely malevolent.”

She pushes into the air again as the Warden flails in confusion, and notes that Miss Hawkeye drops into a crouch instead. She knows the other Magical Girl flies; she’s famous for making impossible shots from impossible dives. If she’s already injured – though that doesn’t make sense, her mind rebels against the concept, somehow – Aria should try to keep the Warden’s attention.

Miss Hawkeye has already nocked an arrow, so Aria opts to summon another round of eyes. She loops around the high ceiling, dodging the projectiles launched with the Warden’s shrieks, and Miss Hawkeye settles half behind the rubble to shoot several arrows very quickly.

Though she cannot sense whatever lights the Hawkeye arrows, Aria knows that they most often explode into flame on contact. The Warden discovers this firsthand, and makes a noise like a metal bin being crushed. Miss Hawkeye giggles as the flames crackle, and Aria lands near the rubble as the eyes shatter along the concrete leading toward the Rift.

“I don’t- Should we try to get it to go back through the Rift, or should we just… discorporate it?” Aria whispers, holding her wings stiffly so she doesn’t overbalance.

“Ooh, you’re new new,” Miss Hawkeye says, cupping a hand against her mouth to whisper. “Okay, so usually we just chip away at Rogues until they turn into cores, or someone manages to talk them down if they’re sentient enough. This guy, though – it hasn’t responded to me at all, so cores it is. Though we should probably chuck it back in the Rift afterwards, huh? That’s pretty convenient.”

Cores, huh? That feels correct, like hearing a song from your childhood you haven’t thought about in years. Aria can’t quite grasp the specifics of it, but she hums some eyes into existence as she jumps back into the air. She just has to do enough damage, and then Miss Hawkeye can do… whatever it is that transmutes the Warden’s body back into a core. No, it’s pure damage, right?

How big of an eye can Aria sing?

Before, each note had been a separate eye, so she takes a deep breath. To keep the Warden from interrupting her, she lands on the inactive robot’s shoulder and tucks herself into the gap between its screen and wall. Miss Hawkeye looses another arrow, recaptures the Warden’s attention, and dodges the table it throws. Its shriek doesn’t manage to blot out Aria’s steady note.

She almost drops it the next second, as Miss Hawkeye does something with another arrow that makes a massive stream of water explode out of the concrete and knock the Warden over.

“Yeah!! Okay, if I…” the other Magical Girl cheers. “…here, this.”

Her next arrows slip between the Warden’s exposed ribs and glitter with small explosions. They’re strangely muted, as if from a much father distance.

“It should be pinned!”

That’s good, because Aria is out of breath. The eye is about the size of a tire, and Aria has no idea how strong it’ll be.

“Can you try to get clear?” she calls down, waits a second for Miss Hawkeye to cause a smaller explosion that shoots her into the air, and then returns to directing the eye.

The rest of the world fades out of her awareness as she carefully leads the eye down, swirling around the Warden’s open soul-catcher in its chest. From the eye’s point of view, Aria can see something swirling in the glowing cavity, and knows in her bones that the Warden’s core is almost revealed.

The eye bumps against the Warden’s chest delicately, then settles across the opening like a bubble on a drain. It flows into the gap like the Song is using the Warden’s ribs like a bubble wand, blowing a second bubble inside the Warden as it rages against Miss Hawkeye’s arrows.

Aria looks across the room at Miss Hawkeye perched in the broken window, and nods.

She cuts the Song.

Deeply violet sparks flicker into existence within the eye and surge outward. For the briefest of moments, really only interpretable after the fact, the eye is opaque and solid. Then it detonates.

It’s remarkably less gory than Aria was expecting.

Aside from the massive eye’s shards, the Warden’s body crumbles into smokey pieces and reveals cool, greenish light. They scatter, sure, but there is absolutely no blood. Each time the chunks impact, they shatter even further, leaving trails of dust. There isn’t even a scream, just the eternal blare of the emergency siren. It makes sense, Aria supposes, since the Warden isn’t really dead. As long as the core isn’t damaged, the Warden will eventually gather enough magic to reform a body.

Miss Hawkeye jumps back down, and Aria glides to a stop beside her. What Aria had thought was a shield on her back is carefully folding itself into the round shape, with the two bars of orange and blue actually being the tops of Miss Hawkeye’s wings. How is she doing that? No animal or Spirit Aria can think of seals its wings together when not in use.

“So, cutiepie, that was your first battle, right? Are you okay?” the other Magical Girl asks, drawing Aria out of her head.

“Yes, it was, and yes, I am,” she says, then processes the nickname. “I’m Aria!”

Miss Hawkeye just grins at her squeak, pulling the catlike stripes on her face into crinkles.

“Well, Aria, do you wanna do the honors?” She gestures to the Warden core, twitching on the ground.

For the most part, it’s a round object with roughly the same texture as the Warden’s head, but the tightly woven fibers twitch and uncurl as they watch.

Aria tries to not looked visibly unsettled and fails miserably, and Miss Hawkeye laughs again. She scoops it up in one gloved hand and holds it up toward the Rift as if the purple light could reveal anything about it. Mostly it just highlights when a tendril comes loose and flails freely, and Aria is envious of Miss Hawkeye’s composure. The other Magical Girl doesn’t seem concerned about it grabbing her at all, and visibly relaxes when she finally lowers the core.

Instead of explaining, she grins at Aria again.

“We’re lucky the Rift is here. Usually, I have to find a way to hide the cores until I can hand them off to someone to purify,” she says, and curls into a classic baseball pitch.

That dredges up a distinct memory from the Grian half of her consciousness: handing over a bag of something her mind shies away from naming to a man in a dimly-lit bar. Grian received a stack of money for it. Aria wonders if Magical Girls are actually paid, and if this theoretical money is actually of human origin.

“Are they other Magical Girls? Or do I need to do something specific to find them?” Aria asks as the core sails into the Rift.

The surface of the Rift ripples like liquid, and the core doesn’t drift down with gravity before it fades from view.

Miss Hawkeye hums, considering.

“They can be. Honestly, if you just land nearby here – this building – there’s a Spirit that takes them. The Musician. You’ll be able to find him easily, huh, singer?” She says teasingly.

Aria shrugs. She supposes she better figure out some lyrics, if she’s going to need to track down Spirits, too.

Miss Hawkeye turns to face Aria as her cheerful expression drops.

“Just… be careful. There are people far less helpful who’d love to find a Spirit to control. Don’t transform where you can be seen. Don’t tell anyone what you are,” she says, setting her hands on Aria’s upper arms to emphasize her point. “Go back to where you transformed, okay? Try to hide nearby, and then the two of you are going to have to come up with a cover story.”

Aria swallows hard. Miss Hawkeye is more serious than she’d been the entire fight, than she’s ever been on the news. The echoes of Xelqua’s desperate flight through a literal storm of magic, aiming for the tunnel of the Rift because anything else would end with pain, wells up in Aria’s mind. Hunters on this side, too.

She grasps onto the first thread she can weave into a reassuring cover and takes a determined breath.

“I hid in one of the control nooks next to the Spirit cages and didn’t come out when the big guy starting throwing things.”

Miss Hawkeye relaxes into a smile.

“That should work! Great job, cutiepie. Good luck, I’ll see you around.”

Instead of flicking her odd wings out, Miss Hawkeye draws her bow and fires three arrows into the door under the overlook. Aria takes off before she realizes those were explosive arrows, and the building shakes again as she slips through the broken window.

True to her cover story, she slips into the little space where the exhibits are designed to be opened. The hatch is metal, even though Aria’s talons could carve it up. Aria wonders if, after today, whoever designed these will have to figure out how to reinforce the viewing section, too.

Then she remembers she has to detransform and twin bolts of anxiety and sadness ruffle her feathers. She wants to listen to the Song and fly and explore the city. But just as urgently, she really, really does not want to find out why Miss Hawkeye was so adamantly against anyone finding her. People are going to respond to the emergency siren, and Scar and Mumbo are somewhere in the building.

If Xelqua goes with Grian, they could continue to work together. The bond offered is not an eternal thing, but they do not have to say goodbye.

Aria arranges herself on the floor with her wings brushing the walls, and focuses on the idea of Grian and Xelqua as separate entities again. The Song wails, her wings shiver, then tuck in close, and the warmth from the magic drains into the air. In an instant just as quick as the initial transformation, Xelqua reforms, curled around Grian’s neck.

Grian himself gasps at the sudden cold and the return of the many cuts from being thrown through the window. He blinks fuzzily, almost expecting pink talons and a fluffy skirt, but his hands are bruised and human and his jeans are torn up. Xelqua wriggles free to flop into his lap and flips his body around to look at him. He can tell, now, that’s the Spirit’s concerned expression, because Grian was just in his head. Xelqua was in his!

“Hey, deep breaths, oh goodness,” the little Spirit says, wobbling up to set his paws against Grian’s chest.

Oh, yeah, that might help. Hand over his mouth, Grian forces himself to breathe slowly. His heart stops pounding in his ears just as pounding feet echo through the hallway, and Xelqua crawls up around Grian’s neck again. About time the response team showed up.

Just as the first boot enters Grian’s limited vision, Xelqua fizzles. As in, magic sparks around Grian’s neck, and when he touches Xelqua’s body, the Watcher has transformed into a scarf. Right. He’d be taken away again if the scientists knew he was a Spirit.

Grian’s going to have to sneak a Spirit out of a laboratory.

“Hello?” he asks instead of worrying about it.

The team whirls, and Grian flinches. Their bodies glow vaguely, centered in their heads, chests, and hands. One of the men steps forward, and Grian wobbles upright to catch his outstretched hand.

“Hello, you’re one of the visitors who hasn’t been accounted for?”

“Yes, and Scar’s still in there,” Grian says, pointing. He’s embarrassingly unsteady on his feet. “It threw me through the window.”

“Okay, sir, we have a medical service set up next to break room three, so we’re just going to head down this hall and then left,” the emergency responder says, and Grian zones out for a while. Probably shock.

Can he still get magic sickness as a Magical Girl? What he can remember from Xelqua is rapidly unspooling like trying to preserve a dream, though Xelqua’s new enough that he might not know.

Break room three contains Mumbo, Doctor Plays, EX, and several other employees under the care of paramedics. The emergency response member hands him off to a red-haired woman whose eyes go wide when she sees him.

“Hello, I’m Gemini, if you could sit down here, please?” she asks, and Grian must look pretty bad when Mumbo immediately crosses to crouch in front of him like he’s made of glass.

“Are you okay? Well, obviously you’re not okay, you’re bleeding.”

Grian relaxes onto the cot Gemini indicated, and tries not to anxiously pet Xelqua. Mumbo might notice that he’s got an entire extra scarf. Luckily, he’s got an easy distraction.

“The… Rogue threw me through a window,” Grian says, narrowly avoiding calling the Warden the name he shouldn’t know.

“What!?” Mumbo yelps, and several people’s heads come up.

The paramedic sets a supply case on the table beside the cot and shoos Mumbo away. Then, she sets her hand on Grian’s head and tilts his face. She continues to gently poke at him, which sucks because the adrenaline from transforming has started to wane and he can feel pain again.

“We hid under the tables in there but I knocked something and it grabbed me, so Scar threw something, which freaked it out and it threw me,” Grian explains.

“It was on the ground!! How did it get up there with you!?” Mumbo asks, terrified and exasperated in turns.

“Let’s get a look at those cuts, actually. Would you like a privacy screen to take your shirt off?” the paramedic interrupts.

Grian hums, uncaring. He only really minds if someone touches Xelqua, so he carefully unwraps the disguised Spirit and places him at the head of the cot before shucking off his sweater. Almost every muscle involved in those actions sting now. The paramedic is probably going to have to put disinfectant on them, which will sting more.

To distract himself from her careful touches, Grian recites the slapstick routine the robot conducted for the room. If he closes his eyes, he could almost pretend he’s in high school again, getting patched up after a fight while his sister decides whether or not to chew him out. He very determinedly keeps his eyes on Mumbo’s worried mustache. Note to self: becoming a Magical Girl is nostalgic for the wrong reasons.

Before Grian has to lie after the glass, Scar and another member of the response team burst into the room. Scar’s face is bloody, but he jumps an entire chair to slam his hands down next to Grian and yell.

“How are you not dead!? It threw you like ten feet!” he scans Grian’s injuries. “Your bones aren’t even broken!”

“Hey, hey, let’s not stress anyone out, sit down-“ says another paramedic, and Scar is shuffled onto a nearby cot.

That’s okay, because Grian’s just realized that he can tell the funniest lie.

“Well, do you remember what Mumbo said?” Grian asks, and Mumbo himself squints. Grian grins. “That people kept trying to summon Magical Girls by tapping the glass? I broke it! And there was a Magical Girl after, she might’ve done something.”

Mumbo slaps himself in the face, which is excellent. Scar groans loudly, mostly relived under the exasperation, and Doctor Plays leans over with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Who was it?” the paramedic prompts. “We’re going to have to check for magic sickness as well as bone fractures, hmm?”

Grian tilts his head back to look at her, just in case either of his friends notice something off about his expression.

“I didn’t recognize her, but she had a lot of wings. The regular ones, and some over her face.”

“She was new then!” Scar chirps excitedly. “I heard singing, but I couldn’t see. There was another one at some point and they talked and blew stuff up.”

“How did two entire Magical Girls get into our facility?” Doctor Plays mutters to himself.

Well, Grian can attest that at least one of those Magical Girls did not technically enter. He pats Xelqua nervously, then hisses as the paramedic sets her hand beside a bigger cut.

“Well, whoever she was, you’re very lucky. I haven’t found any glass to remove yet.”

She doesn’t find any glass at all, which she is vaguely concerned by, but Grian is willing to chalk it up to Xelqua. Other Magical Girls heal people, so the weird bit is apparently that the glass was taken out without sealing up the cuts. Grian thinks it probably was removed when they transformed, pushed out of his body by magic. It says something about today that the thought is not even top thirty for ‘weirdest realizations had’.

Right now, a higher entry on that list is the glow everyone in the room emanates. Xelqua is very bright, EX’s weird mask and protective suit also seem to glow from within, and Scar has odd patches, but everyone else has a simple aura. Is that because Scar was close to the Warden?

Wait, no, whenever the paramedic puts her hands in front of his face, she also glows like Scar. Not exactly the same pattern, and Scar is blue instead of purple, but just as brightly. He gets a good look when she lets him stand up and talk to the investigators collecting reports. It feels a little strange to be on this side of an interview, but that might be because he’s constantly preoccupied with not outing himself. It’s harder than it seems! He’s very glad Miss Hawkeye insisted on Aria deciding on a story before detransforming, coming up with something on the fly seems like it would catch him easily.

Then another member of the response team gives Grian his bag back, which is great for two reasons: one, Xelqua can go in the bag! Excellent hiding spot, and he also takes out the crushed chrysanthemum in his hair as if he’s just putting away the costume items from his outfit. It is possible he’s paranoid already. He pushes that thought down, because reason two is that his phone is in there! He leaves the bag open just in case Xelqua still needs to breathe as a scarf and clicks his phone on.

It starts, which feels like an achievement even though the cracks in the screen haven’t worsened. There is an alert on his home screen warning him of a nearby Rogue attack, and Grian can’t help but giggle a little. Yes, phone, thank you very much, he’s aware.

“Your phone’s fine?” Mumbo asks.

“I dropped my bag before the Rogue ended up on the overlook,” Grian says, and accepts the congratulatory high-five from Scar.

Doctor Plays plops down next to them and smiles apologetically.

“Well, I’m sorry to say that we’ll probably have to continue the tour another time,” he begins, and the team laughs. “But you do have a new story for your project! Also, I’m willing to provide additional interviews and such if you’d like. Would you like my contact information?”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be great, actually,” Mumbo says, and they descend into phone shuffling.

To ensure that all numbers have been typed correctly, everyone also receives test messages.

Grian sends “hi, it’s Grian! You’re going to have to fight the spellcheck every time you write my name. Sorry.” The message he receives in response contains a laughing emoji and “yeah, my name is Zedaph, my phone wants it to be seraph.”

Scar also insists that they all take a picture together to ‘commemorate living’. Grian scoops Xelqua and his bag into his lap. They all try to squeeze together on one cot, and Zedaph steals Scar’s hat. Grian hopes that one of the pictures turned out okay between Scar flailing over Grian’s head and Zedaph falling off the cot.

The paramedic from earlier puts her hands on her hips.

“Please don’t knock your head on anything after escaping a Rogue attack, I was just going to clear you,” she says, and like naughty children, all four of them straighten up and smile as innocently as possible. Zedaph even tips Scar’s hat, but he doesn’t bow since he’s still sitting on the floor.

Scar offers up his bandaged hands.

“Oh, helpful medic lady, please let us go home so you don’t have to be responsible for us anymore,” he requests.

She laughs, and catches his arm to make sure he didn’t tear open the bandages.

“Well, I have another thing you’ll need to worry about: neither of you have shown any signs, but I think you should try to stay with someone who can check in and make sure you don’t develop magic sickness, alright?” The paramedic catches Grian and Scar’s eyes in turn.

Is that potentially what the auras are about? Scar has been magic-sick in the past, maybe that’s why his is all blotchy. That would mean the paramedic might have been exposed once. Maybe Grian can see his own aura in a mirror and check.

Mumbo nudges his arm.

“If you text Pearl, she can watch you, and I can go with Scar?” he suggests, and Grian bites his lip in thought.

“I’ll check at least,” he says, instead of ‘I think my sister will immediately determine that I am magic now.’

Any other circumstance, and Grian would agree immediately. He really doesn’t want to leave Scar alone in his huge house. If Xelqua stays in the bag until he gets the Spirit to his room, maybe she’ll just… assume he’s acting weird because of the Rogue? Yeah, no, that’s explicitly what she’d be trying to prevent. Gosh, he’s just going to have to hope.

GRIA: hey pearl would you be mad if I tolf you I was in the rogue attack in the observatory?

GRIA: so I need you to make sure I don’t turn into a bird plague or something

GRIA: love you?

SISTER: GRI WHAT DO YOU MEAN

SISTER: ARE YOU OKAY

GRIA: yes you would be mad alright. can I tell the paramdeics you’ll pick me up or

SISTER: of course I’ll come get you I always do ARE YOU OKAY

GRIA: yeah!! She wouldn’t be letting me go otherwise she just said

Grian looks up when the paramedic steps in the light and smiles.

“My sister will come get me, she’s had to keep an eye on me before,” he says, trying for reassuring.

The paramedic raises her eyebrows, not reassured.

“You’ve been in previous Rogue attacks?” she asks, then “May I check you over, too, or do you need to say anything else to her?”

GRIA: last checkup. Scar’s going with mumbo so text me when you get here

SISTER: you are telling me ALL the details. See you soon

Tucking his phone into an outer pocket of his bag, Grian turns his full attention to the paramedic. He probably has to shed his shirt again, huh?

“Yeah, my team and I are investigating Magical Girls. We’ve all been in multiple Rogue Attacks,” Grian answers, wincing as she gently shifts him. “We have a bet on whether Scar or I will see fifteen first. Mumbo doesn’t count since he’s from here.”

“I’m winning!” Scar chirps. He really wants the celebratory ice cream.

Grian shifts to show his back as Zedaph makes a baffled noise.

“You’re calling that winning?”

“He’s already had magic sickness twice and he’s lived here for four years,” Mumbo adds neutrally, attempting to present a united front despite his own objections to the joke.

The paramedic makes an aborted noise of protest.

“Yeah, that’s why we got two separate babysitters; otherwise, I’d be juggling them,” Mumbo agrees.

A different paramedic, despite being present for that conversation, cuts in to lecture Mumbo on the symptoms on magic sickness as if it isn’t the common term for ‘random side effects from magic exposure.’ Grian appreciates the insistence on safety, at least. The most common effects are dizziness, skin irritation, and auditory hallucinations, and Grian hopes to God whatever lets him see auras doesn’t come with any of those. He’ll have to ask Xelqua, assuming he can get enough time alone without Pearl hovering.

With perfect timing, Grian’s phone vibrates just as he’s putting his shirt back on. He tucks bagged-Xelqua back against his ribs and waves to Zedaph. Pearl’s messages are mostly complaints that he’ll have to walk out to meet her, which means she’s pretty worried that he’ll stop answering her.

GRIA: I was completely cleared other than the possible magic sickness

GRIA: no glass or anything! So I should be good to go all that way

SISTER: GLASS

SISTER: GLASS WHAT DO YOU MEAN

GRIA: a magical girl saved me after I was thrown through a window

GRIA: I promise I’m fine okay

He sends her one of the group photos as proof, one with hat tug-of-war over his head. She still continues to yell at him over text as he’s led out of the building, and then immediately tugs him under her arm when the personnel hand him off in the darkened parking lot. It would be sweet, except she noogies him as revenge.

“Hi Pearl! I’m glad to see you, too,” he snarks, but goes limp against her shoulder.

It’s been a while since she’s had to pick him up from any kind of incident, huh? They got out of practice. He tips his head back to look at her, even though she’s buried her face in his shoulder and he can only really see a lot of brown and cream hair under her new aura. She’s going to know something is up, with how much he’s babying the bag.

He really hopes Xelqua is doing okay.

“Did they feed you at all or should I make soup?” Pearl asks, hesitantly leaning back to look at him, too.

Grian huffs a little. “They just gave us some of the prepackaged stuff from their snack bar.”

Pearl gasps dramatically, and pulls Grian towards the left of the parking lot. “That is a tragedy, Grian, honestly, you’d think they’d feed you better when they’re supposed to be making sure you’re okay-“

Stumbling a little to get his feet under him, Grian adjusts his bag under his arm and pets Xelqua. He doesn’t know if the Spirit can feel it, but he feels bad about how long Xelqua’s spent pretending to be inanimate. If he wasn’t glowing very brightly, Grian would be concerned that Xelqua swapped himself out with an actual scarf.

“-after being thrown through a window! Again!” Pearl rants, waving her free arm.

Grian is very glad his friends aren’t here to question that statement.

“Technically it was two windows, but one of them was already broken,” he corrects, and Pearl squeezes him.

“That’s not better!”

She fumbles her keys from her pocket and unlocks her van. In an effort to not be a classically-suspicious blank white, she’s painted it with her cleaning company’s logo and mascot in a little scene. It’s like if a brochure and a wizard van had a baby, but it also guarantees she won’t lose it in big parking lots.

The interior is spacious enough that Grian could tuck his bag next to his feet if he wanted. Instead, he keeps it on his lap, one hand on Xelqua’s fur, and feels that the Spirit had transformed back at some point during the walk and is now breathing. It’s dark in the cabin, that’s fine.

Pearl turns her radio down low, which Grian tracks absently. She probably wants to keep talking about the attack, but Grian speaks first.

“Can you get magic sickness from just... being in a place an attack was?”

Given that his sister is often hired to help clean out buildings destroyed in Rogue attacks, Grian really should’ve asked this earlier. But before, he couldn’t see the way her body sparkles with sourceless light like she’s been flecked with glow-in-the-dark paint.

“You were grabbed by it!” Pearl yelps. “That’s not- that’s direct contact, G.”

“…I meant you. There was a guy at the Rift room who had a- like a space suit? One of the futuristic ones with a tighter mask. Scar asked if he was a Mandolorian. You go to places where there’s, I don’t know, Spirit blood and stuff.”

The Warden had certainly bled. The weird stuff it’d launched while screaming might’ve stuck around after Aria and Miss Hawkeye defeated it, if it wasn’t magic.

“Oh, Grian,” she says gently.

He twists to look at her directly, but she’s still watching the cars until she can turn into the street.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I wouldn’t describe our P.P.E. as a space suit, but I suppose they’d want something sturdy if they’re wearing near the actual thing…”

What, no, not your personal protection equipment, emotional whiplash! What!

“Why did you sound so sad, I thought you were going to tell me something horrible!?” Grian demands, taking his own deep breath.

Pearl makes a sad, huffy giggle, which only proves Grian’s words.

“Sorry, no, it’s fine, it’s just… you were just in a huge attack everyone was really worried about. Like, what if the Rift had gotten – I don’t know – torn open? And yet, you’re worrying about me again,” she explains.

Under his fingers, Xelqua’s breathing picks up. Regular Grian probably wouldn’t like the idea of the Rift breaking either, but the shadowy purser he’d glimpsed in the Spirit’s memories is probably an indication of how bad it could be.

“Just... are you okay? Emotionally? ‘Cuz this just keeps happening to you, all the time,” she continues.

This time, Xelqua shifts, and Grian is briefly panicked that Pearl will notice until he processes that Xelqua has curled around his hand and is petting him. Then he processes her sentence, too, and lifts his free hand to bump her shoulder carefully.

“I think it would’ve been worse if it weren’t for the Magical Girl,” Grian decides. “Like when we’d finally turn the lights on when we were little and nothing would be there? I didn’t even have any glass in me because of her.”

Grian hopes that’s reassuring enough for being as close to true as he can make it. He can’t even promise her that he’ll stop getting into these situations; even before the promise Aria made to herself, Grian’s job is to go to dangerous places and report on them.

But there is something he can say, before Pearl tries to bury her regret again.

“Hey, I promise that I’ll call you to come destroy whatever monsters I can’t.”

Pearl laughs, and Xelqua squeezes his hand.

“How could you say that to me when I can’t even flex at you? I’m driving, Grian! Imagine I’m saying something really cool about how I’ll always be there for you while looking like a superhero, because right now I’m – hey! I’m being cut off by an Audi-“

Grian laughs, too, and feels Xelqua vibrate like he’s silently giggling. The brief time in which they were one person is definitely contributing to how quickly they bonded, but man, does Grian wish Xelqua could meet Pearl properly. She’d love him. He already promised to save Grian from all of the weird stuff that just keeps happening.

And, together, they’re going to try to keep Pearl – keep everyone – from having to meet monsters like the one they fought.

#HERMITCRAFT #REAPER WRITES #GRIAN #XELQUA #GOODTIMESWITHSCAR #MUMBOJUMBO #MUMBO JUMBO #JELLIE #ZEDAPH #PEARLESCENTMOON #MAGICAL GIRL AU

30 notes · View notes

reaper-writes · 2 years

Text

To Uterus Owners

I'd cry an ocean

If I knew it would make a difference

But my tears are a drop in the flood

And I don't have energy to shed them

Why did this become

I'm desensitized to another battle

Like a war I've always known

Us versus them and neither

Remember well why this started

History repeats itself

But I wish we'd just learn

Teach us how to spot the bigot

And be self aware

So maybe then we can know

Our neighbors are not the enemy

Why did people, regular people,

Become target practice

Mounted circles for useless games

I hope at least Amy Coney Barrett

You sleep better at night

SCOTUS I hope your dreams are cotton candy

Samuel Alito... it's not in me to wish the best for you

But uterus owners

I wish there were well wishes strong enough

To get us through this

Propel us to a better side

Where houses and deceased don't have more rights than

We who need a break from struggling

But I know that we will struggle

Until the very end

Until the failed abortion,

Until the bad pregnancy,

Until we have both feet in the grave

And are in peace and at rest

Until we, those left, can point the finger and say

Barrett this blood stains your hands

SCOTUS may your dreams be filled with pain

And Samuel Alito...the worst of hells to you

Until we can look at our oppressors

And scream with a ferocious might

With conviction that their methods

Are nothing more than bigoted madness

Until RBGs dream is reinstated

And our rights are once more secure

We must stoke our fire little by little

And fight like the feral beasts we are treated as

When naysayers attempt to douse it

We will not go gentle

We will not lay down

We have been to hell and back

And our enemies will be drowned

#poetry #poets on tumblr #political poetry #activist poetry #original poem #reaper writes #reaper will have rights #i hope that all the people affected by roe v. wade being overturned can stay safe #my blog is always a safe space and any comfort i can offer i will #love to you all ❤

12 notes · View notes

cursedpiratestash · 2 months

Note

omg i love your writinggg🫶🏽

how about talon hc’s with a reader who on one occasion dodged their kiss because they were busy doing something else? like cooking, doing paperwork, cleaning, <3

Talon x Reader

“I’m busy” Headcanons

a/n: I wanted each to have their own set up so this leans more towards scenarios i hope that's okay! Thank you for enjoying my work I appreciate it a lot!

Doomfist

It was a long day for him when he returned to his place beside you. With you in his company he’s hopeful that you could ease his mind from the disaster that was today

In a tired yet powerful stride he moves to hold you close by the small of your back and kiss you on your soft lips to greet you

When you swat him away he is taken aback for just a moment

Fortunately he immediately pinpoints as to why

As fiery as you were he was positive he hadn’t done anything to cause conflict with you in a while

It took one look to notice you were focused on a game on your phone

He only shook his head with a soft laugh through his nose or a half-heartedly snide remark before he patiently waits for you to either win or lose

Regardless of the outcome he pulls the phone away from you and guides your face to his

You’d forgive him for interrupting anyways

All in all probably the calmest about it and plans to get what he wants when you’re available rather than risking a fight by overplaying his dominant role

Reaper

Not necessarily being the forgiving-type, Reyes narrows his eyes at you when you dodge his affection on his way out

He notices that your movements were frantic as though you were looking for something. When he questions you on this you give him enough of an answer for him to help you

With a roll of his eyes he snatches whatever you were looking for in seconds and presents it to you

He almost scolds you for your forgetfulness as he does so

When you reach for it he is quick to swipe it from your grasp and peers down at you with an expectant look

With a roll of your eyes you grant his wish and give him a smooch before he relinquished the item to you

He milks the moment by pulling you closer to him

His expression slightly softens for the kiss before he bids you farewell with a pet name and a small peck on your forehead

When it comes down to it he would hold it against you just because he isn’t that big on displays of affection in the first place

Gets over it rather quickly though

Moira

With one of her experiments showing great promise Moira begins to feel celebratory. The next time she sees you she greets you with a tender smile and a beckoning hand

However when you raise a hand at her in a “Just a minute” gesture her face melts into an unimpressed expression

She easily closes the distance between you to look over your shoulder

You’re doing some form of paperwork; perhaps filling some report from the latest mission or something

Whatever it was kind of kills the mood for her anyways

‘Just busy work’ she would think to herself before she strokes the side of your face and turns your head towards her with her index finger and thumb gently holding your chin

“Don’t keep me waiting long,” She would finish with a pet name before granting you a lingering kiss and leaving you to your work

By the time she’s gone you well have forgotten what you were even writing

Anyways she's pretty understanding, but it isn’t everyday that she wants to spend an intimate moment with you outside of your home so it's up to you to get in on it before the window closes

Sombra

Probably had just finished a rather difficult job as she plops down next to you on the couch you shared with her

Almost out of habit she leans over to wrap her arms around you to pull you towards her with your head on her chest to pepper kisses on your face

When you move away she is immediately confused and dejected on a smaller scale

You show her the cleaning supplies you brought out and mention that you were just about to get started

With a quick scan of the room she could tell it wouldn’t take very long

Despite this she gives you a bored look and pulls you back in anyways explaining that you could get started later and that she’ll even help out as well

But for now she really just wants to unwind with you and cuddle while you watch a movie

You knew this meant you two would probably take a nap instead but you allow it as it's usually a good excuse to give Sombra some much needed rest anyways

She isn’t the biggest fan of rejection and usually plans to get what she wants even if it means pulling on a heart string or two

She does it out of love of course

Mauga

It’s a calm day with nothing but the mundane scheduled ahead of you

After polishing Gunny and Cha-cha, Mauga leisurely makes his way down to the kitchen where you were preparing something sweet and light

He greedily sniffs the air and compliments your skill before leaning down towards you, lips first and eyes closed

When nothing happens he opens his eyes to see your back facing towards him as you offer him nothing more than a “thank you”

There you leave his beautiful lips pouting at nothing

His face turns into a mock hurt expression despite how you don’t notice him waiting behind you

“How about a little sugar my way?” He’d ask with a cheeky grin

If that doesn’t get your attention he would resort to smearing whatever confection you have onto your cheek to get you to stop working

Honestly by then he usually steals a kiss so good it leaves your head spinning

Out of all the members he’s probably the most immature about it and will always find a way to get you to look at him

Will always charm his way through anything and everything

Widowmaker

On the rare occasion that she’s feeling unbearably affectionate is on a beautifully rainy day

She starts by waltzing up behind you as silent as a mouse then proceeding to wrap her arms around your waist, trailing one hand up your throat to push your face towards hers

When you don’t allow her to court you in her arms she scoffs as she is appalled by your rejection

You apologize profusely as she stands back with her arms crossed. What could have your attention so much so that you couldn’t pay her any mind

You explain that you desperately needed to add some finishing touches before she saw anything

“What are you blabbering about.” She raises a brow at you. When you show her the gift you’ve been preparing for her, her cold stare turns into something warmer

She rolls her eyes and accepts the gift before allowing a smile to grace her features. She hides it in your kiss as she pulls you towards her by the back of your neck

She will accept your apology this time, however next time she won’t be as merciful

That aside she doesn’t take it too personally, but she does find it annoying unless you truly didn’t consent

So expect some empty threats until she gets her smooch

Sigma

After a long day of testing he floats into your room where he finds you laser focused on the tv screen

His shoulders relax at the sight of you despite how you hardly offer him a greeting as he enters

‘You always did love your shows,’ he chuckles to himself. With that he makes his way towards you to greet you with a proper kiss

Unfortunately he had gotten in the way of the screen with his rather tall frame causing you to quickly dodge to try to catch the ending of your show

Feeling a little embarrassed Sigma seats himself next to you and apologizes silently as to not cause anymore distraction

It doesn’t hit you until the end credits start to play that you had just been unbelievably rude. In your attempt to apologize Sigma raises a hand in defense stating that he didn’t mind one bit as he knew you didn’t mean it

He only chuckles as you snuggle up to him to try to make it up to him. Things only settle down once you give him a darling peck on the cheek

Literally the sweetest guy about it out of the whole team when he's of sound mind

Honestly finds it endearing when you’re deep in thought anyways

#I love writing for talon ngl #overwatch 2 x reader #overwatch x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #doomfist x reader #reaper x reader #ow reaper x reader #moira x reader #sombra x reader #mauga x reader #ow mauga x reader #widowmaker x reader #sigma x reader #message in a bottle

265 notes · View notes

strawb3rrystar · 3 months

Text

Sweet tooth.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow, Sejanus Plinth, Festus Creed, Treech, Reaper Ash, Tanner, Jessup Diggs x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Oral (F! Receiving), Manhandling, Teasing, Spanking, Fingering, Overstimulation, Face riding

Word count: 380

✰Masterlist

✰Coriolanus Snow whose nose rubs against your clit as he eats you out like a starved man. Holding your hips down so you don't squirm. Whose cock drools as you pull on his hair, rutting his hips into the bed, waiting to stuff your cunt full.

✰Sejanus Plinth who takes his time with you. Kissing up your thighs and teasing your clit. He loves it when you push his head down, needy for his tongue to fill you. But he's ever so sweet, helping you cum with wanting anything in return.

✰Festus Creed who has you face down, ass up. Teasing your hole until you're crying, your weepy little cunt so desperate for his mouth. He'll spank you if you whine too much. Sometimes if you're too noisy for his liking, he'll edge you and then ruin your orgasm, or he'll use your mouth to get off while you don't get anything.

✰Treech who has his eyes on you while he snacks on your sweet pussy. He wants to watch every movement you make, the way your body twitches and your chest heaves as you cum. He wants to hear you try and hold back your moans, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

✰Reaper Ash whose so gentle and caring with you. Sucking on your puffy clit while his fingers circle your needy hole. He slips his fingers into your pussy, enjoying the wet tightness of your walls. He loves it when you moan his name so sweetly, your loving boyfriend the only person on your mind.

✰Tanner whose addicted to your sweet taste. Who wakes you up with his head between your plush thighs. Dragging an orgasm from you before heading off to the slaughterhouse for the day. Who drinks up your juices as you meekly tremble from overstimulation.

✰Jessup Diggs who wants you to ride his face. If you're too shy to put your body weight on him, he'll grab your hips and pull your body down himself. Helping keep you up right as your thighs tremble from how good his tongue makes you feel. He loves that when you start to approach your release you can only focus on that. Rutting your pussy on his face until you're cumming, leaving him with a smile and a mouth covered in slick.

Star's notes -> All of my favorite Ballad boys (Not you Coriolanus)

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @arzua10 @candiedhearts55 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @toxicbimbo @haymitchabernathyslover @saturnbourne | Join the taglist

224 notes · View notes

thislittlekumquat · 4 months

Text

"Will is not mean to Grell, they just have a little song and dance they do every time she's naughty or gets into trouble, and he has to be the big mean bossman. It's roleplay for them. They're having mad sex at home later," I say into the mic.

The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.

"She's right," they say. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the 6th row stands William T. Spears himself.

#grelliam #kuroshitsuji #black butler #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff #william t spears #reapers #i'm really gonna have to write fanfic of every time they fight onscreen and it devolves into sex aren't i #i have to do everything around here

268 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

Reaper 13

This is SUPER LONG and dirty but enjoyyy it for as long as it lasts hehe.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing

Warnings- possessive behavior, aggression, threats, mention of murder, stalking, illegal acts we do not Condone, knife play, impact play (slapping x spanking), daddy kink if you squint, breeding kink mention, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification if you squint, choking, bondage w belt, hair pulling.... you get the gist everything is filthy as per usual

WC- 11.3k

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

Tourist attractions really weren’t Harry’s thing, especially in his own city. He thought it was all a bit underwhelming, he’d rather look at a photo and be over it. He never thought he’d ever step foot in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Kensington was no place for someone like him. Yet there he was, watching his own work of art, Bunny, read the plaques by each painting.

The way her eyes lit up this morning when he told her they’d do whatever she wanted, he didn’t have it in himself to say no. So he let her drag him along to all the sites, even going as far as taking photos with her. If she were anyone else, he would tell her to stuff it- but that smile made it worth every moment of internal suffering.

“I’m getting hungry,” Bunny whispered to him, wanting to be respectful of the environment. Her arm had snaked its way under his, her hand curling around his bicep for comfort.

Harry chuckled when he felt her squeeze at the muscle, mindlessly going to place a kiss on the top of her head. The mindless affection had become more and more common. “You okay to head back towards the hotel? The options around here are a bit shit.” Harry continued in a hushed tone, guiding the two of them towards the stairs to begin exiting. “Plus, there are a bunch of pubs back that way… can get you some of that authentic food to try.”

“Authentic food?” She raised a brow. “You mean beans on toast? Egg in the hole?” There was teasing in her tone, a giant grin on her face as he looked down at her. She was taunting him, but it was good to see her really fucking smile after these last few weeks.

A scoff sounded from his throat, eyes rolling as they continued. “Lucky you’re cute. Or I’d toss your ass into the Thames, and that is particularly unpleasant.” He retorted, lightly pinching her side to make her squeak.

“Oi! Precious cargo here.” Her hip bumped into his as they walked, looking at her fake wedding ring. Although it wasn’t real, seeing it and what it represented made her stomach flutter. Would that be a possibility? Would he ever actually propose? What ring would he actually choose? He’d probably do it somewhere very private and secret, just the two of them. Shaking herself out of that thought, she continued. “What I was saying was, yes. I’m happy to head back. Your arm must be tired from holding all of my stuff.”

It wasn’t too bad. A few bags with the very tacky and overpriced London swag, things he knew she would probably stick on a shelf and not use- but part of him felt some sort of happiness that she liked it enough to buy souvenirs. “S’fine, darling. Snow globes and tee shirts and magnets are surprisingly lightweight.”

“Right, so you don’t mind if I drag us into the gift shop?” Bunny teased and squeezed his arm, tripping over her feet a bit as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry had never thought he’d experience this type of relationship. It almost felt juvenile with how they clung to one another and got shy at each other's teasing ocassionally. It felt so out of character for him, but then again, it came naturally with her. He thought, if his life had been different, that maybe that’s how he was meant to be.

“Thought you said you were hungry?”

———

Pubs were a quintessential part of the British experience. You could go just about anywhere in the UK and there would always be a pub to welcome you in. Sure, the decor was a bit outdated, but Harry always thought it made them more charming. No two pubs were exactly alike. Some had different stools.

“What do you fancy? Fish and chips? Bangers and Mash? Gonna take you for a roast at the weekend.” Harry’s speech had already adjusted, his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. It made Bunny smile fondly, she’d never seen him in a mood like this and she was cherishing every second.

“Fancy, huh? You’re sounding incredibly British today, Mr.Davidson.” She winked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looping them as they settled at the end of the bar. The mood was just so good today, and she was relishing it.

“Fancy, yes. Like I fancy you.” His voice was quiet, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips as she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hands came to hold her hips, cuffing them with his cool skin and making her shiver. Her outfit wasn’t particularly thick- which was why she had stopped to buy the coat she’d hung up when they walked in. If someone stole it, oh well. It was pretty cheap.

“You do?” She peered at him through her lashes, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Gonna make me blush. Look at you, flirty man.” Harry had been exceptionally affectionate today and it had almost taken her off guard. Like he could finally let go a bit and give her the proper boyfriend treatment, loved treatment, whatever it was called. It made her all fuzzy and hot in her stomach.

“Good. Like making y’shy.” He tugged at the ends of her hair. “Soon as a table opens up we can sit down and properly eat.” But he didn’t mind standing here. He soaked in every second of her leaning into him, playing like a proper couple on a ‘honeymoon’. He liked the feeling of the ring on that finger.

Bunny nodded along, letting her eyes wander around the dimly lit space. The place wasn’t too packed, though as the clouds drew in it seemed everyone was looking for shelter.

“Y/N? No fucking way.” A familiar voice interrupted Bunny from her train of thought. Her head snapped in the direction the voice was coming from, swallowing thickly. Fuck. Not here- not now.

“Ian?” She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he moved away for college. She had been so devastated back then. Sterling’s departure had taken a toll on her and well, Ian wasn’t man enough to tell her he too would be leaving her.

“Are you stalking me?” He joked, taking a step towards her. It seemed as though he hadn’t noticed just who she was there with.

Harry was quick to place himself between them.

Who the fuck is this? And why the fuck did he know Bunny? His jaw clenched so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, feeling fingers gently pressing against his arm as he looked down at the shorter man.

Was this some sort of sick joke?

“Who the fuck are you?” His words were cold, his molten relaxed nature from before cooling quickly before shattering like glass on the pavement. His eyes were sharp and hard as he looked down, feeling her peek over his arm and try and move closer but he extended it to keep her behind him.

Whoever the fuck this Ian was, he was in London. A place where she knew no one. The world couldn’t possibly be that small, and he was on edge all over again. “Are you following her?”

Oh god. Bunny stepped forward, clutching Harry’s arm in her grasp to try and chill him out. It looked bad, it definitely looked bad and she could understand his irritation, but-

“H, it’s okay-“

“No. It isn’t.” His harsh tone stung his own ears as he approached further, eyes zeroed in on him. “I’ll ask again, How the fuck did you find her here?”

“Find her?” Ian looked like he had seen a ghost. He had remembered Reaper, very very well. How could he forget all the times he’d come over and he’d be outside working on his bike? The death stare he gave was enough to have him rushing inside without turning back. He was aware of the reputation Reaper held, to say Ian was scared was an understatement.

“Dude, I swear I wasn’t trying to make any moves, just surprised she’s here— I live here man.” Ian was in a rush to finish his sentences, attempting to clear the lump forming his throat.

“Baby, you know that, remember? I was dating him before Sterling left.” Bunny peeped up from behind him, her heart beating out of her chest. The last thing she needed was for Harry to cause a scene when they were trying to lay low. While the coincidence was shocking, she knew full well Ian was too stupid to pull off what her stalker was pulling.

“Where?” Harry barked, preparing to grill the man for all he was worth. If he couldn’t tell him a way a Londoner would understand, he was worried he would do his head in right here on the bar. His stomach had already been turning at the mere mention of him dating her before, but the thought of being face to face with someone who could possibly be part of this ongoing torture of his girl? He was seething.

“Canary Wharf, a few stops on the DLR. I’m not giving you my address, sicko.”

“Sicko?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not the one following girls around. How’d you know she’d be here?” He took a step closer, the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he tried to scan the man’s face for any hint of lying.

He was scared shitless, as he should be, but Harry was thrown right back into the paranoia that he usually felt back home. The hesitation and distrust of anyone who got around her. How perfect would it be for her obsessive ex to be the one following her around?

“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, bro. I’m just as surprised as she is- t-tell him, Y/N. Please!” He was backing up slightly as Harry took another step forward, making her grab his arm and try and tug him back.

“H- Hey.” She gently dragged her fingers down his arm. “Please. It’s okay. He’s been here for a while, he left a while back. I didn’t know where he was moving to.” Trying to diffuse the situation was unnerving. She’d seen Harry get like this a few times, but she didn’t want to make a scene here. “Look at me, please. He’s not the person you think.” Meaning her stalker. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, the nervousness from how he worked his jaw, how his other hand had slipped behind him to have a hand on his gun if he needed it. They couldn’t afford to have that happen in such a public place, but it was well known that Harry, when he was Reaper mindset, didn’t care. He would take out a threat and deal with the consequences. As much as it warmed her that he was that dedicated to her safety, it wasn’t any good if he went down for taking out the wrong guy.

“Babe.” Her stern tone cut through the tension, her hand moving to squeeze over his hand tightly. This couldn’t happen. Bunny’s heart was beating out of her chest, looking between the two of them as she tried to figure out what her next move was. “Ian, you remember Harry yeah?” She began, her fingers rubbing gentle circles over the wedding band on her boyfriend’s hand. It would be hard to explain it to Ian, so she figured it was best to keep them hidden. “He brought me here to London to show me around, we’ve been together for a while now so it felt like a good time to see where he came from.��

Harry was still sizing Ian up, chest heaving slightly. Focusing on the sound of Bunny’s voice, he could still hear the faint sound of blood pumping in his ears. This guy was harmless, she had ruled him out but Harry’s brain was still on high alert.

“Anyways, we were just leaving,” Harry interjected, no longer wishing to be in this idiot's presence. He needed to be back in a safe space with his Bunny.

“We don’t have to-“

“I just remembered our reservation. Let’s go.” The tone of his voice had taken her off guard, unfamiliar with the sweet one he usually held specifically for her, but she would let it go despite how it stung under her skin. He was wound up and nervous, and he had just had a scare in the one place he had seemed to key his guard down. She had to remember that. He had just been knocked over, metaphorically speaking.

“You don’t have to run off,” Ian said with a laugh, feeling a bit bolder and wanting to reclaim that stupid masculinity he had felt was stripped of him from the interaction. “I’m not going to try and steal her-“

Before he could finish, his shirt was fisted in Harry’s hand, his body whipped around and pressed to the bar as the cocky look on his face faded to fear. His eyes were dark and cold, though the anger was simmering under the surface of his skin.

“You can’t have her. She isn’t an item to be stolen. I’ve heard about your puny cock and the lack of care you’ve given my girl. Bold of you to assume she’s mentioned more than her dissatisfaction over you.” He did indeed remember this dickhead. It made him want to drag him to the back alley and use the silencer on his gun to take him out. But he was in public. So threats would have to do. “If you breathe a word of her being here, if you try to contact her, if you even look at her again tonight, I will end you. Make your life a living hell, and end it with your body sunk in the Thames.” His words were quiet, but so matter of fact that Bunny’s eyes widened. The pub noises would filter out anyone else hearing, but she could.

“I know the people from the deepest depths of the underground here. One fucking call and I’ll have your entire flat ruined, your bank account drained, and your body strung up in an abandoned building before they dispose of you. So heed this warning very, very carefully.” He got closer. “You’ll stay here, order a pint, and forget that this night and my woman has ever existed. If I hear a word of this breathed out -and I will- I’ll make good on my phone call.” Eyes traced him in disgust. “And you won’t make very good fish food, either.”

Finally, he dropped the guy and pulled Bunny with him, trying to be mindful of how hard he pulled so her shorter legs wouldn’t make her fall. But he was livid. Angry, his face blank and nostrils flared as he grits his teeth.

She decided to stay silent, following him and wrapping her arm around his, their connected fingers an anchor for the both of them. “I’m sorry.” Her voice peeped, looking up at him. “I-didn’t know he would be there. I swear I haven’t known anything since he moved.”

He froze. Why was she apologizing?

Harry could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, though it seemed he felt no pain. His focus was purely on getting her back to the hotel as safely and quietly as possible. Stupid fucking idiot had to choose this pub of all pubs in London to walk into and ruin the perfect end to the day for his perfect girl.

“S’ fine, Bun.” Harry tried his best to reassure her, though his breathing was still heavy and his mind was still racing. He was on high alert as he guided the two of them through the busy crowd of Leicester Square, no one paid much attention to them there. Only one more turn and they’d be safe in the street right by their hotel.

Bunny wasn’t sure what she was expecting as they entered the hotel and made their way up. She chose to stay quiet, her arms wiggling their way around his waist as her head rested against his chest in an attempt to soothe them both. His heart was pounding, though his muscles were noticeably less tense than they had been at the pub.

She didn’t think she’d be able to eat much now, her main concern was tending to Harry. It’d been a good while since he’d snapped back into his protective state, they’d worked so hard to get him to actually relax on this trip. She had been worried it was all for nothing.

“Talk to me.” She murmured as they entered the safety of their room, the sound of Harry double-checking the locks behind them had her eyes squeezing shut. She wished he didn’t have to go through this. If only they didn’t go to that pub.

His throat bobbed as he scanned the room again, only broken out of the trance when her hands gently grabbed his face, cradling his jaw. All she did was gentle. She treated him with a softness no one else ever had, one that he had never even thought of himself being able to have.

There was a moment he stood without a word, looking down at him as he tried to gather himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel neglected like he had the time before, but it was really fucking hard to do that. His body was taught, tense and he held back tremors of both rage and fear. It was a false alarm, sure, but he had felt all the feelings he imagined surfacing from finding the son of a bitch stalker. His uneven breathing filled the room as she continued to try and soothe him, her soft and concerned gaze killing him. How the fuck was she being so good with him even after what he had done? How he had shut down?

“I was terrified.” He admitted into the silence of the room. “That it was him. I’m still not convinced he isn’t involved. I was letting myself get too relaxed. You’re in danger.” He stressed, head tilting back as he ran his hands over his face. There was obvious regret and self anger in his tone, breaking her heart just a bit more. “I was selfish for not letting my head be on a swivel. I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt. Ever.” Hs hands peeled off his cheeks so he could look at her, the seriousness of his words bleeding through.

“I promised to protect you. Not only to your father, to your brother- but to myself. This whole thing, you and I? It isn't just sex to me, Bunny. You’re- you’re mine. In every fucking sense of the word. The one person that means anything to me and if I fuck up because I want to- I want to be selfish and just let go? I’d die. If you hurt, I hurt. I can’t ever let it happen.” He felt the intensity in his stomach rise, the feelings he had been trying to keep in check boiling over in the pot. Frothing over the edges, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her, no matter how many times he had stirred and tried to keep the overflow at bay.

“You mean the most to me. I’ve never cared this much about a person. I felt so much rage… not only at him but at myself. I’m so angry.” He growled. “He looked at you. He touched your arm. How much fucking clearer does it have to be?” Slowly backing her up, Bunny trusting him as her back bumped against the door and her head tipped up to look up at him. Her angry knight. So passionate about protecting her. “Do I have to get you a sign to tell people you’re mine? That I’m yours and I will rip their hearts from their chest, I will slice off any finger that touches you?” His eyes blazed, Harry’s discomfort obvious. He meant every word. AS gruesome as he could be, she hadn’t seen the whole of it yet. This girl got to see the good parts of him and he was convinced that she would be the only one they were reserved for.

Bunny’s eyes searched his, trying to find some kind of sign. Sure, his emotions were on high, but he meant each word he was saying. She could feel it— never once did his words falter, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingertips delicately began to push her jacket off of her shoulders.

“Say something.” Harry breathed, his eyes too scanning hers in an attempt to anchor himself in the moment. When he was with her nothing else mattered, he didn’t have to be anyone he wasn’t. With her he was free. “I mean every word—“

“I know.” Bunny’s voice had been so quiet she wasn’t even sure if he heard it. The words she had wanted to say were hiding just under her breath, if only she felt brave she would tell him. Profess that she loved him and that she trusted him more than anyone else in this world. “I keep thinking,” She started, her sentence interrupted by the thump of her jacket falling on the floor. “You’re the only one I’d want to be here with. The only one I want…” Her words trailed off with a soft moan. God, she was sick.

Cold fingertips dragged up along her arm, Harry’s other hand finding the warmth of her lower back just under her top. He really couldn’t help himself, she was the only thing that could get him to relax.

His stomach heated with a different sort of passion. A flick of a candle, a switch of a blade, a single moan. Her soft body melted into his own as her eyes bore into his own, that calming energy sinking into his skin and melding into arousal that he couldn’t help. She was aroused by this?

Yes. She was. The woman was affected by his words, by his protective nature. Even as deprived and awful, inhumane as his version of justice could be perceived as, she was excited by it. Flattered. His face got closer to hers, bracing with his arm against the door.

“I mean it.” His words were a shaky exhale. “I mean every fucking word.” His hands slipped further under the fabric, her hot skin melting his icy interiors yet again. “Anyone touches you… anyone even thinks about stroking this perfect skin… tasting your mouth…. Harming a single hair on your head. I’d end them.” He pressed closer, fingers finding the nape of her neck. “I’d kill for you, baby. D’you know that?” Harry doubted that she would ever actually know the full extent of what he would do for her. How close she had him to being on his knees at her wish.

She nodded, their noses brushing together. Harry smiled, not a normal one but what she could consider almost feral. Hot. Her thighs trembled as she couldn’t recall anyone else who had been able to gain such a reaction from her body. Their interactions were always something she felt fully, but his intensity was ringing in her ears, throbbing through her body. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he would.

“I almost did tonight. I meant every word. And I’ll do the same back in Vegas. I’ll find who is tracking you… I’ll send them to meet Hades myself. And then… then I’m going to take you on a proper vacation. I’m going to take you to a beach and fuck you on the sand, I’m going to fuck you on my bike, I’m going to do everything you deserve. I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Bunny. I’m mean, I fight, I do illegal shit, I’ve got blood on my hands and targets on my back, but I’m keeping you anyway.” Their breathing mingled as he tried to control himself but it was slipping.

His lips pressed against hers hard, feeling her fists on his shirt to pull him closer. It was no use.

“I will burn the entire fucking city down to make sure you’re safe. I’ve never been afraid of anything. Death, fire, pain. But I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”

Time stood still as the two of them stood barely a step into their hotel room. Harry cradled her with his arm, unable to get enough of his skin on her own. Her shivers only drove him all the more insane, he was hypnotized by the feeling she brought him, the comfort of her existence was something he felt himself continuously getting drunk on. He didn’t want to stop himself, he couldn’t. Not when every moment felt like it could be their very last.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’ll always find you.” Bunny knew there was very little could do, but on the off chance that this fucker managed to find her she would leave as many clues for Harry as she possibly could. No way would she let some monster get in the way of this beautiful blossoming relationship. “Even if it hurts me.” She whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. She was hungry to taste them again, it was the perfect remedy for the comedown of shock. What if she wanted it to hurt?

“Please let go just for tonight… just take me how you want to.” She would do just about anything to get him back to a relaxed state again. This feral look on his face awakened something in her, he’d previously mentioned he’d been holding back. There was something about the dark breathy chuckle he let out that had her mind reeling. “I’m serious.” Bunny felt her heart rate picking up as he toyed with the delicate skin of her neck. “Please.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He whispered, trying to keep that curated delicacy he had reserved for her at hand- but failing. Failing miserably.

“I do.” She whispered back, arching into him. “You’re upset. You want to prove that I’m yours?” There was danger in taunting him. The girl knew that. But she wanted him to break down, to give in to those urges again. The last time had been so, so good. She could still feel the slight ache but she wanted more. Greedy. She was so incredibly greedy for every lick and drop of affection, his real self she could get. Her hand reached for his, pulling it towards the front of her throat to collar it.

“Fuck me, Harry. Own me. Use my body, mark me, make everyone know.” She bleated, eyes wide for him. “Please?” Her lips pressed against his. “Please, please, please. Just for tonight- make me ache. You know my limits. Push them.”

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” Harry breathed through his nose, trying so hard not to give in to her even though she was offering herself up on a silver platter. The feeling of his hand around her throat was something that’d felt natural, her kiss tempting him even more. She knew just how to get him to succumb to her desires but there was still that bit of fear.

Sure, the other night they dabbled into the territory. A few good slaps, her slipping into subspace. This, however, was a whole other beast. Harry could be truly sadistic, relentless in the way he fucked women. While his girl had proven to be the perfect slut for him, he still worried that he would lose himself. There would always be more caution in this because he cared about her, he adored her, her life meant something to him. It just made him worry a little about self control when she taunted him. Especially when he was in a mood like this. Where he knew he wouldn’t stop himself from absolutely ruining her.

“I want you to.” Bunny was confident that she could take it. The slaps yesterday were manageable, hot, even and with the right aftercare, she was positive there was nothing he could do that would truly hurt her. Harry in his feral state was terrifying, yes, but a thrill that made her sopping wet. She was the object of his desire, surely the aggression he would lay upon her would translate differently than it had with anyone before her.

“Want you to show me the real you… want to know what it’s like, I can handle it.” She had opened up for him so nicely, let him see her slip into the softest of spaces. She had hoped to see him enter his own headspace, one where they could interact together.

“God….” Harry rolled his head back on his shoulders, his erratic breathing amplified by her fingers pressing over his own, making him squeeze. It got his attention right away. Damn it all to hell. The woman had a road map to the paths to drive him wild the quickest, the buttons installed in the tips of her little fingers.

She moaned. The vibration of it stung his palm. She was serious. Her head rolling back on the door as she hated herself to him with her eyes fluttering at the feeling. She was showing him, taunting him, and Harry could feel the tether to his rational being fraying.

“You… can handle it?” His lips curled up in one of the most cruel little smirks she had ever seen. “The soft, sweet little slut can handle it? Just a bit of slapping has you slipping. You really think you can manage it? When I make a mess out of you?”

Her nod made him narrow his eyes, watching as she blinked up at him. Did she?

He tested the waters, gathering saliva under his tongue and spitting it right on her closed lips, getting a surprised gasp from her. A flinch. “Lick your lips. Clean it up.” He stood straighter, seeming to loom over her. She stood with wide eyes, looking like she was going to speak before he took his fingers from behind her and lightly smacked her cheek.

“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak. Did I?” Her head shook, a tiny whimper making him laugh before continuing on. “No, I didn’t. I know you get a little brainless when I touch you, all you can think about is cock… but I gave you instruction. Try again.” He hissed, feeling his cock throb at how quickly she let her tongue rub over her lips. Pink brushing over the glistening pair of lips wet with his spit, she slowly dragged the muscle over the pout.

“There we are. Pretty little pet does have some sense floating up there.” He cooed, thumbing the rest she couldn’t get over the rest of her chin and rubbing it into the skin.

There was a pause, his eyes softening for a moment as he checked in. “My messy baby. Are you sure you can handle it? Y’know I adore you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her wet mouth, a direct contrast to his previous actions. “You’re my girl but… I’m gonna be mean to you. You know how to get me to stop, yeah?” It had to be abundantly clear. There wouldn't be unnecessary risks of losing her trust.

Bunny nodded her head, not wanting to risk speaking and making him unnecessarily angry. Just one word, that’s all it would take for him to stop. She decided to take his word for it and behave while she was still grounded in reality, god knows what she’s getting herself into when she was drunk on him and his cock. He’d given her a taste of it last time, blown her expectations out of the water, but she was his greedy girl after all.

His actions had shaken her up just enough for wetness to start pooling in her panties. She loved seeing him in this state, it was so animalistic. He was only focused on one thing and that was pleasure— in this case, his own. She would happily give herself to him a million times over if this meant he could get it out of his system. If it was anything like before she knew she’d enjoy it.

He’d never been mean to her before, it would definitely be a new feeling. However, it was all in the name of sex. Sex makes you say all sorts of things, it’s part of its nature. It’s a connection people can’t properly put into words. Bunny was eager to explore their connection even further and prove their trust.

“That’s a good girl.” He sighed, stroking over her hair before wrapping it around his fist. “Come.”

There was no other option- but Y/N didn’t mind. She followed, relishing in the slight prickling pain on her scalp as he stayed true to his word and led her like a naughty pup over to the bed.

“You’re such a nice girl. It really is such a shock to me that you love acting like a depraved whore.” He said with a chuckle. “Y’know, I thought… the first time we saw each other again, you were so sweet looking. Grown up, not a little girl, but sweet. That big smile and sparkling pretty eyes, bouncing on your feet. And then, later in the night… you crawled up on my lap. Tried to tempt me, with your brother just feet away. That’s when I knew there had to be something with you. Something that made you dirty, just like me.”

He undid his belt with his free hand, the sound of the leather snapping out of the belt loops making her whimper. His start was intense, intently on her eyes as he released her hair. “Wrists in front of you.”

There was no second request. She did it quickly, letting herself feel the warm leather wrap snugly around her wrists and through them. There was a shot of jealousy when she realized she was not the only one he had done this to. No- Harry must have done this dozens of times because of how well he did it, but she kept her mouth shut as he secured her.

“There.” One last tug and she was secure enough to not escape, but easy enough for Harry to be able to undo it quickly. “What a fucking vision you are, darling. Look at you.” His voice aired out, walking in a circle around her. Reaching into his pocket, he steadied himself behind her. His nose brushed her neck, inhaling the scent of her. This was enough to get him drunk. The perfume, her soap, the scent that could only be her…. Biting down on the flesh in a nip to make her yelp.

“Too good. Too fucking good for me, and yet…. You let me do such filthy things to you. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how eager you were to get my cock in your mouth. So quickly after we agreed I’d be your boyfriend… taunting me. Almost crying because I didn’t give you my cum. And now? Now you want it dripping down your thighs.”

There was a metallic slice in the air, Bunny stiffening as she felt cool metal brush her chest. The flag of his pocket knife. “If they knew you shivered in anticipation while having a knife held to you. You know how nasty you’ve got to be, darling?” He laughed, the heat of it making her shiver again. “Oh, that’s why you’re so perfect for me, little Bunny.”

She gasped as he sliced through the upper part of her top in a swift motion, using his hands to rip the rest off. “But what good is having a beautiful slut at my beck and call if she’s clothed?”

The anticipation was killing her, all her senses heightened. She’d been waiting for him to bring the knife out again, but the unexpected action had her feeling warm. There was something that washed over her, a feeling reminiscent of embarrassment but was much more pleasurable. Sitting there exposed to him, clothes cut, unable to move her hands. The danger of it all was too appealing, Harry played the part well. Though, he wasn’t playing at all.

Harry noticed her breathing pick up, the way her chest was heaving made his cock stir in his jeans. He let the blade of the knife trace down her denim-clad leg, teasing her with the sensation before the tip met the zipper. “I bet you’re soaked under these, my perfect whore. Always ready for me to stuff you.” He was debating cutting the jeans off of her but decided against it, using one hand to unbutton them and pull them down.

Harry wasted no time in slicing her panties off, a dark laugh leaving his lips at her gasp. “Always liked that move, hm? Filthy slut. Open.” He commanded, waiting for her jaw to drop down before stuffing her mouth full of her panties. “Don’t trust you to stay quiet so I think this will do.”

It was degrading, absolutely, but there was just something about the way Harry could make it feel good. The humiliation swam in her stomach pooling down to her cunt, the damp spot on the fabric pressed against her tongue.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He ran the cold metal over her thighs, over her mound ever so carefully to get it wet before moving in front of her. His eyes were dark, tongue licking up the flat of the blade and groaning at the taste. “Yeah. You can see why I love being parked right between these gorgeous thighs. If you weren’t such a baby, you’d stop complaining about being over-sensitive and let me lick you up. But…” he tossed the knife to the side. “I think….” His hand pushed her to fall on the bed. “It’s time for a proper taste. I’ve got you gagged, bound… I can lick you up, and prepare you for my cock. How does that sound?” He turned his back towards her to the drawer beside the bed, where he had left the cleaned and unpackaged toys. “Oh, that’s right. Y’can’t reply.” The snarky reply somehow left her feeling a bit more hot. How did he manage that?

“Gonna make you so sensitive, and you’re just going to lay there and take it. You loved being my fucktoy last time, so let’s see.” Standing between her legs, he tugged her by the ankles toward the end of the bed while he ignored her muffled squeak. “Three kicks with your foot if it’s too much. Otherwise? Don’t complain.” Establishing a safe system was imperative regardless of verbal ability.

Bunny felt her cunt throbbing but resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. It wouldn’t do her any good, not when Harry was standing there looking down at her cunt as if it was his first and last meal all at once. He took his sweet time, picking up one of her legs so he could kiss and bite his way down to her core. He loved the way she reacted to him, her sensitivity made him crave her that much more. Her scent had him forgetting what he had initially planned to do, eyes zeroing in on her puffy slick folds. Harry’s hands gripped around her thighs, lowering himself till he was kneeling on the floor.

With the panties gagging her, Bunny assumed her moans would be silenced. Instead, she was met with muffled sounds that only elevated the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping her up. It was an erotic blend, the sound of slurping and sucking making her legs twitch. He was so good at this. Creating environments built to break her down little by little.

He was relentless.

Of course that was a given, but it seemed he was even more desperate tonight to get her, to get every bit of her slick on his tongue and she couldn’t keep quiet, even with her gag. He wasn’t holding back, licking up from her entrance to her clit before spitting back down and using his hand to gently smack over her.

When she squealed, Harry’s wet mouth grinned, filthy promise written in his eyes as he smacked harder over her clit and watched her hips buck up. “Slut for pain. Like when I do that to you?” He shook his head, picking up the toy and dragging up her wet folds. “I hope that extends to some overstimulation. I want you to cry for me today. Good tears. Tears only I can ever get out of you.”

Turning it on he felt her jump, the lower setting making her squirm as he situated it right on her clit whilst his finger slipped into her cunt. “Drooling little hole you’ve got… you’re lucky you love this so much. It’s going to make it far easier for us when I’m fucking you.”

The woman’s breathing was staggered, her stomach clenching at the tension he was creating. It hurt so good, the burn paired with a deep lull of pleasure creeping throughout her body. The gentle vibration of the toy was tormenting her, if only he had turned it up even just one degree she swore it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.

Whimpers managed to push through the fabric lodged in her mouth, her thighs twitching in his grasp. She was trying her best not to squirm, breathing heavily through her nose as she mentally coached herself through the pleasure. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers, desperate to be filled by his cock once again. He said he was being mean, there would be no point begging. She did tell him he could do what he wanted. Bunny would be good.

“What a perfect fucking whore, I can feel you squeezing me. Want more?” Harry mocked, rubbing the pads of his fingers over her precious g-spot. He was slow with the movements, coaxing more of those delicious little moans out of her. “Should’ve known you could take it— don’t you dare cum before I say so.” He didn’t want to stop touching her, he intended to flood her senses for a good while before giving her her first of many orgasms.

Harry clicked the toy up a speed, chuckling darkly at the way her body jolted. “So sensitive, so greedy…” He just about growled into her thigh, teeth sinking into the skin enough to satisfy him. The man could tell she was gone, but he didn’t want to stop it. Not when she was taking it so well, not when she so clearly wanted more.

She yelped against the fabric, body jerking as his teeth marked her. He hadn’t been joking when he had said he was going to go for it. While he’s bitten her before, this one was a claiming one. Dark and hard and a promise of more, making her drip for him.

“So-ee.” The poor attempt of ‘Sorry’ was muffled through a gag, apologizing from her jolt. His eyes glazed up at her, shaking his head but continuing his slight torture.

Harry loved to see her wet like this. To see the wet juices of her cunt coat his fingers and drip down her folds, all the way down to her ass. Soon enough it would mark the bedcover, and he couldn’t wait for that. His cock was aching, pulsing in his briefs but he was satisfying a different urge.

“Sorry? Mm… Slutty thing is sorry she can’t take a bite. What are we going to do with you?” Adding another finger, her legs twitched as her toes curled, the sloshing, wet sound of them fucking into her the music he needed to hear to his ears. “Don’t fucking cum.” He warned, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit. “Don’t do it. I know you’ve got a filthy set of holes back here, but have some self control.” He could feel it, the beginnings of clenches around his fingers and her thighs trembling as she began to protest behind the gag.

She almost did it. The pain had buzzed on to pleasure as his joined fingers curled right against a spot that had her stomach jumping, but he could tell. Immediately, her muddled moans were disrupted by a screech. His hand yanked away the toy, his fingers pulling out and the wet palm of his hand coming rough roughly onto her cunt.

“What did I say? Did I not just fucking tell you to hold it? You were going to do it anyway.” Again, his hand came down right over her clit, the sharp sting making her writhe under him. Again. And again. The stringing of slaps to her most intimate area hurt, but they felt good. So good, and Bunny could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

With a glare, Harry’s fingers pulled her spit soaked panties from her mouth and held her jaw roughly, speaking to her through a cruel smile. “Does it hurt too bad?” He cooed, shaking her head back and forth before he narrowed his eyes. “Or…Did you like that? Did my pretty little pain slut like having her cunt smacked around?” He asked, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek. Y/N was stupified, eyes wide and wet and mouth open as she tried to find the words. “Yes or no, Bunny. Use those words. Or did Daddy take them away from you so quickly?”

“Yes, I liked it, Daddy.” Bunny could feel her face heating up as she breathed out her answer. Admitting it to him always made her feel so shy, even more so than being spread out like this. Her body belonged to him, she never wanted to hide from him after the first time. But saying she liked his twisted methods of domination was another story. She used all the strength she had to hold herself up, using this opportunity to take in his expression. His face was wet—covered in her arousal, and his eyes were dark with pure lust. Primal desire, he couldn’t help himself. Every bit of her struggle to manage the immense pleasure sent him further into the headspace. He swore he could swallow her whole if she’d let him.

“Yeah? You like it, gorgeous?” Harry cooed, noticing the floaty look in her eyes. She was just as far gone as he was, he was glad she had convinced him to give in. His perfect girl, she really could take it.

“I do... I do, I love it.” She mewled, seeking his approval as she looked at him with glassy eyes and pouty lips. “Love e-everything you do to me. I want to make you happy.”

Harry felt that tiny bit of softness leak through the primitive layer, making him pet over her face softly before it melted away. She was dazed, looking like a baby deer- his helpless little Bunny. “I know you do. I could do anything I wanted and you’d thank me for it.” He sighed, shaking his head before pressing his lips to hers. A hint of softness before he had her.

“I could take this little toy….” He took the vibrator, switching it back on to a higher setting and placing it on her clit as he loomed over her shivering body, her mouth open and wet as she took uneven inhales. “And I could tape it to you. I could keep this little thing connected to your poor little clit and make you cum over and over for me until you can’t take it. And you’d thank me.”

A tear dripped down her cheek as she tried to hold back, the orgasm quickly rising as he had found the perfect spot, the perfect pace. “H-sir, sir- please let me cum, please, please, please.” She wrung her hands in the belt, the bite of the leather making her moan. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I wanna be good-“

And then, it was gone. A sob left her throat, frustration raising as Harry’s smirking face was her only vision.

“That was a cute beg. I liked it.” His smile resembled a wolf. Hunting her down, playing with his food. “Let’s try it again.”

Edging.

“No, no, no— Please!” Bunny cried, thrashing slightly in disapproval. “Please, please, please, please—“

Smack.

“Quiet,” Harry commanded, his voice stern as his hand roughly gripped her face. With furrowed brows he stared down at her, daring her to look away. “You were doing so well, what happened?” He kissed his teeth, dropping her from his grip. “If you want to cum you have to listen to me, brat.” He was testing his own patience. Hearing her beg was a weakness of his, but he wanted to prove a point.

Bunny simply nodded, bottom lip quivering for a moment. She wanted to cum so bad she could cry, the smack he placed across her cheek only fueling the fire in her core. “I’m sorry, sir.” She squeaked, blinking away her needy tears in hopes that he would touch her.

“Can I have a kiss? Please.” Her voice changed momentarily, needing him to ground her and remind her that she was doing well despite his harshness.

It was a moment of clarity, her shaky voice bleeding into a slightly unsure tone that had him softening up nearly immediately. It was good to know that his body truly could tell a difference. His fingers stroked her cheek where he had smacked, eyes gentle as he tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together for a loving kiss. “Doing so well for me. Can’t believe how well you’re taking this.” He murmured against her lips. “You’re okay?” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her seriously.

Thankfully she nodded, puckering her lips for a few more kisses which he readily gave to her before he could sense her melting back into position. “There. Good girl. Just tell me if you need me to stop, you know the safe word.” He gently tapped the tip of her nose before he let that dark mask take back over.

She was in awe of how he could do it. How he could be so loving and tender to her and then call her all the names in the book- and even more so because she loved it. Ate up every single piece of it

Without a word, he slipped his hand under her jaw to keep her eyes on him while the other flipped the vibrator back on. “You can cum this time. Then I think you’ll be nice and open for my dick. I want to see you be the pretty, needy little brat. Talk to me. Because as soon as I’m inside you, you’re not going to be able to.” He nudged their noses together. “Because you get so dumb on my cock. I love every bit of it. But someone’s got to remind you who you belong to.”

She belonged to him.

Everyone in this hotel would know that by the end of the night, Harry would make sure of it. Granting her permission to make noise, he knew there was no reason for her to hold back. He himself was tired of the muffled sounds, he wanted to hear her loud and clear.

“Thank you, sir, I-aH” Bunny’s breath hitched, relaxing into the feeling with a low whine. He had started it off deliciously slow again, though the pain from his previous torment had built up. She was sensitive.

“Just wanna cum, wanna show you how good you make me feel.” Bunny’s hands instinctually went to cup her tits but forgot about her bound wrists. She cursed him in her head, quickly losing herself in the pleasure as he turned the toy up another speed.

“Please slap my tits, want you to bite me again— I wanna cum for you over and over and over like you said, sir.” She was gone, far gone. “I’m your good girl, I promise.”

Harry loved this. He loved every bit of it.

This woman called to every single part of him, making him feel slightly feral as she spoke. This was his best friend’s little sister, the woman he was supposed to protect, and yet she was here telling him to slap her tits, bite her, to make her cum. It was wrong in many senses of the word but Harry had found that part of that made it feel even better.

He growled under his breath, doing exactly as he wanted. “That’s what I wanted.” He chuckled, slapping her bare breast before pinching her nipple. The noise that came from her swollen mouth was unlike what he’d heard before, but it continued when he pulled on it. It was visible in her face, she was wrecked already and he wanted to get her there. Make her babble again, her shaking legs struggling to stay open as he leaned down to bite right on the swell of her breast.

Bunny let out another desperate mewl, the bite hurting so fucking good she was close to seeing stars. “Please, please, I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for you, I’m yours, keep biting me- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna….” Her frantic squeaks were paired with a dark noise from Harry’s throat, moving to her neck to bite down on the soft curve of her shoulder. As soon as his teeth dug in, she lost it.

The vibrations, the pain of them, his fingers twisting and pinching her breast, the perfect mixture to make her cum. A wail left her plushy mouth as Harry rutted slightly against her thigh, pulling his teeth away to watch her face scrunch in pleasure.

She could feel pins and needles in her legs, crying as she came. The work up to the orgasm, the restraint, his closeness, she was greedy and got one of her wishes.

Bunny sighed in satisfaction, her body convulsing as she rode out the orgasm. “Fuck! Ah-“ She hissed, finally feeling the buzzing of the vibrator on her clit. It seemed that Harry wasn’t satisfied with just the one. “It hurts, Daddy.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to turn it off though.

“Shh, give it a few moments, pet…” Harry mumbled against her skin, knowing if she waited long enough the pain would turn to pleasure. It took a few more moments and whines from her till he felt her hips buck up against the toy. “That’s it, give me another one like the greedy little whore you are.” He let his mouth move back down to her chest, sucking at the skin before finding another perfect patch to bite.

Her skin was so warm and smooth against him, though he was starting to get annoyed at the layers he still had on. He hadn’t even bothered to rid himself of his clothes, getting carried away in the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her either.

“Can I? Fuck— can I cum again? It feels so good, can I, can I, can I—“ Bunny’s breathing was picking up again, eyes squeezing shut as if that would stop the quickly building climax from ripping through her. “I can’t hold it, please say yes, please—”

Pulling off her nipple, his hand smacked against her breast before he barked out the order.

“Cum.”

She felt like she wasn’t in her own body, on her way out. Halfway in. She was hot, sweat on her brow as she shuddered under him. It was fuzzy, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth opened in a silent screech.

Harry loved watching her cum. How her body arched, how she shook, her jaw clenching and her chest heaving. He was going to make sure he could keep this vision exclusively his for the rest of his life.

“That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” He praised, laughing in disbelief as he felt her gush a little on his hand that held the toy. Messy, wet, everything he had been going for. He knew when it was starting to get too much, her squirm and whine signaling him for the right moment to stop. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the side and pressed their lips together, peppering filthy praises between the kisses.

“My fucking girl. So pretty when you cum for me. You drive me crazy. I’m so obsessed with you.” He panted, pulling back and taking her bound hands, and untying the belt off of her wrists. They looked a little irritated, making him take a second to stroke over them and bring them together to kiss the irritated skin. “M’not sorry, precious. You loved it.”

He was quick to dispose of the rest of his clothes, kicking them whenever they landed. He just wanted her. She was boneless on the bed, his gorgeous woman, panting as she looked at him with wet cheeks and clenched thighs he had to pry back open.

“C’mon,Baby. Up.” He lifted her towards the top of the bed. settling her onto the pillows, her hair haloed across the linen pillowcases, her bitten lips plump and dark, cheeks wet with her tears from the pleasure. His angelic picture with a frame sent from hell.

“You can touch me now, but I need to be inside of you.”

“I want you,“ Bunny’s hands immediately flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots with vigor. She had been itching to do it since the minute his tongue swiped over her clit, her grip so tight she swore her knuckles were white. “Inside. Right now.” She was still breathless, lifting her head to connect their lips once again.

She loved to kiss him. She would be happy just kissing him forever, but why would she want to when he could fuck her like this? “You’re so hot,” She whined against him, “please put your cock in me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Bunny let one of her hands trail down his back, nails digging into the skin to inflict a bit of pain and emphasize her words. She needed his cock. “Call me greedy, I don’t care, I want it so bad— I wanna make a mess all over you. Want to feel you,” She trailed off, her eyes glazed over with desire. Her hand moved to grab his, placing it over the softest part of her belly. “Here.”

He had definitely broken her a bit. That shy, soft spoken spirit with a hint of tease had gone full blown need, showing her hand as she broke, egging him for it. Whining. She liked to be manhandled, she liked how regardless of his rough actions he took time to praise and check in and it drove her mad.

His hand flexed on her stomach, a fire flaring through his body. His Bunny begging him for it, not a hint of hesitation- it did something for him. A new wick lit inside, engulfing the rest of him in flames. It triggered a thought. One that would have repulsed him had it been quite literally anyone else…but the girl under him had a way of making him completely and utterly ruin any walls he had up. Rubble on the pavement.

He obliged, settling between her legs and brushing the dripping, ruddy tip of his engorged cock through her slick and puffy lips. It was so easy to get wet enough, wasting little time as he began to push in.

“Then take it.” He whispered, sliding his hand under her neck to hold her there. Right at the nape, eyes watching as hers watered at the stretch. “You want me in your belly, baby? Want to be full of me?” Lips brushed hers. “You are such a needy, desperate little bitch. Y’know that? I adore every part of it. Makes me even more glad that you’re mine… but…” he hissed as she welcomed him in, finding his home deep seated in her cunt with his balls up against her ass. “When you do things like that, makes me want to breed you.” Their mingled breathing paused as Bunny’s caught in her throat. “Ought t’knock you up. Keep you full….. because you’re mine. You know it… but the world should know too, shouldn’t it? Should know *exactly* who you belong to.”

Y/N whined, wide eyed looking at him as her body reacted to the ultra possessive claim. He’s always been a domineering man, but something about such a permanent claim had them both hot. It would be the worst timing, but her legs tightened around him to keep him close.

“Please.” The bleated word hit his lips. “I- yes. Yes. I want it, I want you in my belly. Please do it.”

Harry snickered at her pleading, feeling his cock grow impossibly heavy inside her. She was begging for his load, to have his child. Part of him knew she was just spacey, but he decided he’d let himself imagine she truly meant it for the moment. Would hurt right?

“Asking so nicely, like a good little slut.” He purred, the same feral smile returning to his face. His hips pulled back only to snap back inside her with a guttural moan leaving his throat. “Fucking love your cunt,” He set a slow pace for himself, wanting to meld his cock into every part of her walls. “Think I could spend days inside of you and still never get enough…. And you’re squeezing me so tight, you still aren’t satisfied?”

“No, too slow.” Bunny breathed, at her wit's end. Feeling full of him wasn’t cutting it in this state, she was feigning. Her hips bucked up on her own, her back arching to lean further into him. Her bratty self wasn’t taking too well to this position. He was still going easy on her. “Don’t tease me anymore, know you want to fuck me stupid. Make me hurt. Show me how you want it.”

What she hadn’t expected, though, was the sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and kept her face still as he filled her to the brim, stopping the thrusts.

No. No, she needed more.

“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snarled. “No matter how good your cunt is, I’m the one who owns it. Making demands?” He laughed through his nose. “I’ll do as I damn well please.” His cock pulled back out to the tip before slamming back in, making the bed lurch and hit the wall.

She swore she saw stars, a scream leaving her lips as he repeated it again. Deep, so fucking deep that she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Where did my good whore go? I love that beg but-“ he gave another devastating thrust, making her pant, nails digging into his back roughly. “You turned into a brat. Lucky I need to empty my balls and you’ve got a perfect hole for it, or I’d take it away from you.”

Her grip was strong enough to break skin, nails clawing down the length of his back with primal need.

Harry groaned at the feeling, the burn adding to his arousal. He liked the pain she was inflicting upon him but needed to be closer, deeper.

Without much of a warning, he pulled out and flipped her around, slamming back into her with such force the bed frame smacked against the wall again.

“No more words, Princess? Already gone dumb on my cock?” Harry couldn’t stop his hips from pistoning in and out of her with force. The feeling of her milking him was far too good, he’d teased himself enough and it was time to give in. “Take it. Every, last, bit.” His voice grew dark, pushing himself up off of her so he could take in his view.

Beautiful supple skin ready to be marked in any way he pleased. Her ass was something he couldn’t resist. “Wanted to plug you up today, make you squirm till you begged for me to fill both of your holes.” Thwack. Harry paused to admire the trace left over on her skin. “I couldn’t wait. I knew you couldn’t either— filthy little slut. You’re dripping f’me.” He smirked, placing another heavy handed smack on the opposite cheek.

She didn’t know how good it would feel.

There had been a feeling. With how he had smacked her before, how he had held her a bit rough. She knew that she liked pain and liked to see him in a darker, dominant headspace- but she hadn’t expected to feel the stinging prickles on her cheek and have it travel down to her cunt, showing clearly now as he fucked into her. His smacks had made her moan, the garbled noise fueling him further. His fingers brushed over her hot skin gently and massaged the flesh as his cock pounded into her. A contrast to the heavy thrusts stealing her breath and the slamming of the headboard into the wall behind them.

“Fu-uck. I can’t- I….” She choked on her words as he shifted, one leg over her hip while he stayed between his thighs with the other one. Her ass was spread open with his hand, thumb pressing into her hole as she squealed and thrashed under him.

It was too much. Both her holes being filled, the jostling of her body, being tossed around with her face in the sheets, she came without permission. Screaming muffled into the fabric as her face was stained with sweat and tears, noises punched out of her as he didn’t let up.

If anything? It spurred him on.

The steady sound of the headboard smacking against the wall kept the two of them anchored in reality. They paid no mind to the slow cracking in the bed frame, instead, Harry found himself sinking deeper into a new headspace.

“Greedy girl,“ He growled lowly, his voice settling in the thick air of the room. The smell of sin was enough for him to feel high. “Can’t wait for permission?” Another smack reverberated throughout the room. “You‘ll give me another.” He demanded.

Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Unable to form a single sentence, she screamed while writhing beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision blurry, her body completely open. His words made her cunt clench, surprising herself with how much she could take. Her body was begging for more. Her head turned so she could catch her breath, attempting to stabilize herself with her grip on the sheets and mattress. It was no use.

“Knew you’d shut up.” Harry was feral. “Keep screaming, slut. This is exactly what you wanted wasn’t it?”

It was, it was exactly what the both of them wanted- and they wouldn’t be stopping.

Not until it was 3 in the morning, the bed had broken, and their muscles ached.

And a hole in the wall from the bed frame- but that would be a problem for when they woke up. So would Harry’s raised and bleeding scratch marks, the bruising on Y/N’s hips and wrists, the lack of voice she was going to have from screaming when he hit it just right- but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, it was time to relish in their unfiltered, unadulterated passion.

Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again?

394 notes · View notes