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lukesaprince · 5 months

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Ruin Me H.S

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

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

Word count: 13.7k+

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

- Find my General Masterlist here -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then one night… everything changed.

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

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

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

You prayed it was only her being skittish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t, actually.” You responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d break your heart.

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

You needed it.

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

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

You wanted to save him.

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

So he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

But tonight… you knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you could do was nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well yes but-“

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

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

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

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

“I guess so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could’ve died.” You argued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

“Harry…”

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

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

“Oh god… I’m… ‘mgonna…”

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

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

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

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

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

He was evil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Harry...”

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

“Y-yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was euphoric.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it too much? Be honest…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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ellecdc · 3 months

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I'm back with another request!!!

This one is remus×femreader bc we love remi in this house

Basically, remi and reader are arguing about something stupid (something to do with books) and there's a lot of flirting going on whilst arguing. Remus starts becoming a little amused while arguing and tries to hide his smile (we all know he has eyes that glitter when he's happy). Reader gets annoyed and starts going off on him and Remus kisses her to shut her up. The thing is, the reader has never been kissed before. And she REALLY likes him. So she's shocked to say the least. She stares at him in disbelieve and Remi's like "what" and she goes "you kissed me" "ik" Remus says plainly. "I've never been kissed before" reader whispers while looking down, ashamed. Remus feels bad so he takes her by her shoulders, tilts her chin up, and kisses her again. Properly.

Thanks, love! Here are some flowers for you 💐

soooo cute - hope I did your idea justice!!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader who has never been kissed

CW: fluff, narrative around consent

“I cannot believe you just said that.” You deadpanned, staring at Remus with a fiery glint in your eye as he watched you very clearly try to fight off a smile.

“Why would I not say it?” Remus asked incredulously as you repositioned yourself on the sofa to angle your body towards him for better arguing.

“Because it’s so incredibly wrong.”

“Well now that’s ignorant.”

You scoffed disbelievingly at him. “You did not just call me ignorant.”

“Nope, wrong again.” He laughed. “I said your statement was ignorant.”

“In what sodding world did Amy and Laurie make any sense?” You asked then, slapping your hand against your knee to punctuate your question.

“Uhm, this one? Obviously, that’s why it’s canon.”

You pursed your lips as if you were restraining yourself from bodily launching yourself at Remus; he really wished you wouldn’t.

“Author’s don’t get it right all of the time.” You said instead of telling Remus to go fuck himself.

“I don’t think that’s true; this book has become a classic for a reason. Louisa May Alcott didn’t write these things by accident, there was intention and purpose behind these characters and their choices.”

“Yes, and the purpose was to drive readers mad!” You nearly screeched.

“Or perhaps it was to illustrate to young women that they don’t need to settle for their childhood friend.” He countered.

“It wasn’t settling! She loved him back!”

Remus couldn’t help but smile then; between your passion, how cute you looked when you were wound up, and the fact that you were screaming about love made his own heart beat in double time.

“You’re sodding laughing at me.” You narrated with a disbelieving head shake, clearly misinterpreting Remus’ lovesick expression for humour. “Remus Lupin! Stop laughing at me!” You shouted playfully, landing a few good whacks on his arm with the book as he pretended to shield himself from you.

“Okay, so not only do you have horrid takes on classic literature, but you also use classic literature to assault people? What has the world come to?” Remus teased as you continued your attack.

“You. Are. Infuriating!” You spat, punctuating each word with a whack as you moved to stand on your knees for better access to Remus.

Better access indeed he decided as he quickly grabbed your wrists, rendering your weapon utterly useless as it hung limp in your hand.

“I’m infuriating, am I?” He asked you quietly.

“Exhausting.” You agreed, matching his volume.

“Exhausting?”

“Troublesome.”

“Is that so?”

“And completely unromantic! I mean, how could-”

But he never got to hear what your next argument was about how perfect Laurie and Jo would have been together before he quickly slotted his lips against yours.

For how energetic the conversation had been, the kiss was decidedly not; it was soft, gentle, tentative, and Remus only hoped you couldn’t read him like a book for how utterly in love he was with you.

And entirely too soon was Remus pulling away from your face, still holding your wrists as he looked between your eyes.

“You…kissed me.” You whispered; the statement sounding nearly like a question as you looked at Remus with a mixture of shock and bemusement.

Remus felt his stomach drop; was he not supposed to? He should have asked first; fucking arse. Had he read this all wrong; were you not into him like that? Had he been projecting his own feelings onto you, merely expecting you to reciprocate feelings he’d never properly expressed?

“Yes…I- was that not okay?”

“I…I’ve never been kissed before…” You admitted quietly, arms falling limp in Remus’ hands as he loosened his grip.

“Oh dove, I’m sorry. I- did…you want to be kissed?” He asked, leaving out the ‘by me?’

You looked surprised at his question; the corner of your mouth turning upwards as you examined Remus' face. He hoped to Godric his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Very much so.” You whispered.

Feeling hopefully brave by the way your fingers were fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve and the way your eyes were fixed on his lips, he moved his hands to your waist and encouraged you to straddle his lap. You positioned yourself immediately, as if being in his lap was the most natural thing in the world, watching as his hands trailed up to your shoulders and down your arms, guiding your hands to rest on his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He asked under his breath.

“Please.” You whispered back.

“Oh pretty girl,” he cooed; pushing a lock of hair behind your ear before hooking a finger under your chin to pull your lips towards his. “It’d be my absolute pleasure.”

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin ficlet #remus lupin imagine #fem!reader #first kiss #first kiss trope #ellecdc fics

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zan0tix · 6 months

Note

Hi tumblr user Zan0tix, I have to say that I love that you draw Jake as big and hairy AND fem. It's such a rare combination outside of mean-spirited caricatures, every time I see your Jake I get a big smile on my face. :)

Hi tumblr user HermitCyclop ^u^ here is a jake drawing for you 🫶

The transmisogynistic demonisation of these features is so maddening!!! I agree! Im glad that the intent (appreciating these features) of my jake design reaches you c:

GOING TO PUT IT UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY. But jake english gender meta because i think about it Too Much and am taking this as an excuse to infodump abt it. 😁

The alpha kids and their specific defiance of both homestucks gendered narrative AND real life societal expectations are so fun to think about to me!! but since we are talking about jake, his specific defiance of both homestucks models of masculinity and femininity in the context of his queerness is like the reason he is my fav character.

He props himself up that he wants to be the adventure "hero" in the homestuck sense (the hardheaded blue femme fatale) and the western media sense (the hardheaded action man) yet whenever pressed to actually act on what he says he always refuses or obfuscates. Because really what he wants is to just be himself! I really love the alpha kids because they all just want to be Themselves, not be restricted and defined by what is expected of them, (all the characters have this but the alphas particularly really hammer this home for me)

The heavy emphasis on their beta selves, the heteronormative archetypes they embodied and what went wrong in their lives that manifest as fears in their alpha selves... im always thinking about it. How differently society affects queer ppls choices in life and then the fact that they all get a second chance and getting to watch them live out that second chance and realize their queerness and them all caring so much abt eachother and wanting to aspire to be better FOR the ones they love!!!!!! it always tugs at my heart strings to ponder😢😢

IM SO GOOD AT GOING ON TANGENTS MY BAD but basically. The alpha kids explicit queerness and how despite the comic itself protesting, they are all shown to be deserving of love (of all kinds) And as a person who super heavily relates to jake, his experience with his own identity (and dirks unending adoration and love for him and likewise jakes belief and admiration of dirk) serves to me as a reminder that yknow! We are all worthy of love!! Even if we dont think ourselves to be (this is just the message of shrek.) and there is always hope to be found in things improving!!!!

But in a text thats explicitly queer and not shy about letting its queer characters do wrong in realistic ways i think this message is incredibly powerful and certainly one of the best things about the comic in my eyes. And i love embracing that in my art of the characters! Drawing queer (but here specifically trans) characters all getting to be proud of themselves and their appearances makes me feel proud of myself alongside them and I think its wonderful to be able appreciate other trans peoples experiences and looks through it too!!

I specifically in homestuck fandom dont really see anybody but twinks (usually dirk or eridan LMFAO) portrayed to be fem in any manner 😢 when jake is the most explicitly feminine man in the comic. (I think the transmisogyny thats kind of rampant in this fandom means people dont want to consider those outside conventional attractiveness being feminine or transfem identities outside binary transwomen if even that😭😭) I am being the change i wana see in the world 🙏 The amount of transfem fat gay bear jake in the world increases by one every time i post

#hermitcyclop #daniel talks #my art #jake english #DONT LET ME TALK ABOUT JAKE ENGLISH I WILL NOT STOP. I COULD KPEP GOING BUT ITS MIDNIGHT AND I NEED SLEEP.#But thank you for the ask hermitcyclop you are the most dedicated dirkjaker mad respect 🫶 years in the game and still around.. you are cray

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ohmytyong · 1 year

Text

mark me in your heart

PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)

GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)

WC: 13k (12,975)

‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic

SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.

A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3

read on wattpad / ao3

“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.

Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.

It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.

Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.

Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.

This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.

Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?

It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.

You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.

“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.

“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.

Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.

Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.

Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.

You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.

Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.

“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.

The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.

You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.

You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.

A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.

"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.

Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.

The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?

"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.

"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.

Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"

"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.

You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.

"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.

"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.

You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.

Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.

"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.

You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.

Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.

You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.

Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.

"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.

Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.

You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.

The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.

Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.

You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.

“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.

You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”

His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.

You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.

Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.

Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.

Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.

Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.

Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.

That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.

You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.

As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.

But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.

You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.

“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.

He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him.

Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”

You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.

The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.

The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.

The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.

Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.

You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.

"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.

Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.

"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.

Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.

You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.

Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.

"It's not that I don't believe you-"

"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.

Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.

The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.

"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"

"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"

"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.

At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.

"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.

Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.

"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?

You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.

Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.

"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.

The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.

All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.

As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.

He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.

You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.

“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.

Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.

Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.

You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”

Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon.

“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”

You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.

Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.

You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.

“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.

Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.

“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.

Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.

Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.”

With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”

As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.

You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police.

You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble.

But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.

Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught.

There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.

Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”

Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.

You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.

“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.

You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.

Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.

You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.

The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”

You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.

“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.

You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.

The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.

That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.

The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”

The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.

“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter.

The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.

The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.

“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.

“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.

You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.

With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.

The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.

Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.

“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.

You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.

The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.

Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.

You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.

“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.

“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.

Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.

Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.

Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all.

You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.

So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.

You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.

The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.

A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.

After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.

So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.

You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.

Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.

Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.

As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.

Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.

Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.

Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice.

“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.

“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular.

“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.

The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.

But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.

“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.

Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.

Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.

Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”

“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.

“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.

You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”

“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.

A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”

Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.

It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.

“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.

You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.

You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”

You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.

His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.

Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.

With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”

Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.

His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.

The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.

The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.

Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.

You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.

Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.

"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.

You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.

Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.

His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.

Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.

Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.

The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.

"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.

Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.

"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.

"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.

Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.

"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.

A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.

He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.

The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.

The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.

Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.

"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.

"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.

The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.

You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.

Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.

Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.

The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.

"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.

"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.

You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.

"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.

"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.

Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.

As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.

After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.

"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.

With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.

“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.

“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.

You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.

Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.

So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.

So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.

You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.

You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.

You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.

The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.

Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.

You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.

You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:

Dear Y/n,

You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.

So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.

I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.

I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.

Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.

But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.

So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.

I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.

So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.

Your beloved,

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joequiinn · 6 months

Text

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 3

[chap two] | [all chapters here] | [chap four]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: The response to this series has already been so wonderful and unexpected, so big thanks to everyone who's been hyping me up! The next couple parts of this story have kinda a mellow pace, but I'm literally such a long-winded person so idk how to write without adding a tooon of narrative meat lol. Nonetheless, hope everyone enjoys!

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @rach5ive @sav12321 @steeldaisies

wc: 3.5k

Chapter Three

Arriving at school on Monday morning, you had almost forgotten about your little meeting with Eddie the day prior. It was such an odd and different encounter that it briefly slipped away from you - after all, it wasn’t everyday you asked someone to be your fake boyfriend. But once you arrived on campus, the sight of Eddie’s van at the far end of the parking lot brought the conversation back to you, making your heart jump in remembrance.

And suddenly, you were nervous. This plan was ridiculous and there were so many damn opportunities for it to go wrong, so many damn holes that could be poked in it. You’d give Eddie a piece of your mind if he managed to fuck this up.

Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you at your locker, your customary meeting spot since freshman year. Whether intentional or not, you knew you were the pseudo-center of the group - you were certainly not the leader, that was Amelia and her brash personality, but it always seemed as if you were the swing vote, the middle ground, the deciding factor. Janet was the most agreeable of you three, generally avoiding confrontation and trying to maintain the peace as best she could amongst your crowd - you figured it was because of her strict upbringing.

As you approached the duo, you felt the conflicting comfort of familiarity butting heads with the frustrated part of you that didn’t want to see them ever again, the part of you that just wanted to run from them. Being a teenager was complicated in that way - as much as you cared about these girls, you also wanted absolutely nothing to do with them anymore.

Amelia and Janet were huddled together, sharing a magazine and excitedly talking about whatever it was that they were reading. Probably some insignificant article about the latest fashion trends of fall (which you secretly were interested in knowing, but you didn’t need to tell them that). Eventually, they heard the close click of your shoes on the linoleum floor, causing Amelia looking up to greet you as Janet continued to skim the page.

“So, feeling old yet?” Amelia teased, leaning back against the locker next to yours as you put in your code.

“Incredibly.” You answered dryly, although there was at least a hint of humor in your tone. It’s not as if you could completely cut them off overnight, that would be an impossible task to ask of anyone.

They both laughed, Janet putting away her magazine while Amelia leaned over your shoulder to check her makeup in the mirror you kept inside your locker. You nudged her out of your way once you had the book that you were looking for, giving her a harsh look out of the corner of your eye.

You knew that, although not perfect, Amelia and Janet weren’t so bad that you needed to be this cold to them - yes, Amelia was unapologetically abrasive and Janet was too agreeably submissive, but you still felt that your attitude towards them was maybe a little unwarranted. But at the same time, your heart and your mind weren’t on the same page. Your head said that they weren’t as bad as you made them out to be, but you could just feel that this friendship was no longer working, that something about it was terribly off and couldn’t be corrected.

As the two began discussing an assignment from a class that they shared, you mulled over your thoughts and feelings about this slowly ending friendship. Neither seemed to notice that you weren’t mentally present to their conversation, that you were somewhere in your own head instead.

After a short while, a duo of football players that you were somewhat familiar with came over to join the conversation. One of them was blatantly flirting with Janet, who seemed absolutely smitten, while the other served as wingman, trying to keep both you and Amelia engaged in conversation. You gave him the coldest shoulder he’d ever encountered, quickly turning all of his attention to Amelia instead.

Paying little to no attention to the group’s conversations, you began to look up and down the hallway absentmindedly, the myriad of conversations drowning each other out, making it easy for your mind to wander. If the group noticed your inattentiveness, they didn’t bring it up. You could have, and maybe should have, just walked away, but you weren’t sure where you’d wander off to until it was time to head to class. You’d have to find a way to get everyone to stop treating your locker like the go-to hang out spot at 7:30 in the damn morning.

As your eyes continued to wander, brain zoned out, your gaze passed over a small cluster of boys about ten feet away. Normally, they wouldn’t have crossed your mind, but today you had to do a double take, realizing that amongst them was Eddie. A friend of his had a locker not far from yours, you remembered at that moment, but it had never mattered before. But it sure mattered now, because you realized Eddie was looking right at you and probably had been for a couple of minutes, just waiting with amusement for you to come out of your reverie and finally noticed his stare. Once you two made eye contact, he smirked and shot you a playful wink.

Despite yourself, it flustered you just a little. You blinked and looked down in surprise, but mentally kicked yourself for the reaction - you could not let Eddie Munson make you nervous, especially when you weren’t actually interested in him in the slightest. You were simply taken aback, you reasoned with yourself, unprepared for the almost genuinely charming look on his face. So, you took a breath, looking back up to find Eddie’s eyes still trained on you. Was this going to be his flirting tactic? If so, it was pathetic, and you hoped that the look on your face told him as much.

You stared at one another for a few long moments, silently challenging each other, testing to see who would do something first. Eventually, Eddie pointed to the corners of his mouth, dragging his fingers up his cheeks while smiling aggressively wide and crossing his eyes as if to make a point, to visually tell you to at least act interested in him. You refrained from rolling your eyes - as challenging as it was - and forced a flirtatious smirk onto your lips, hoping your eyes weren’t saying something your face wasn’t. You weren’t exactly one to put on false airs, so you hoped that you were convincing to anyone that might see you.

Amelia, Janet, and the boys seemed to forget you were there, considering you hadn’t been engaging in the conversation this entire time. But eventually they must have expected you to chime in on something that was said, as they all looked at you expectantly when you didn’t reply right away. Seeing your eyes elsewhere and a hint of a smile on your lips, their brows furrowed and they quickly looked over their shoulders. It was simultaneously exciting and embarrassing to know that they would spot who exactly you were making eyes at.

They didn’t immediately realize it was Eddie that you were looking at, their eyes searching for maybe a familiar acquaintance or someone more stereotypically attractive, someone more to their liking. But then Eddie turned his gaze to them, winking as his grin widened before his eyes returned to you. In the same breath, Amelia and Janet whipped back around to face you with bewilderment while the football players shared a look of confused, judgmental annoyance.

“Don’t tell me you’re making eyes at Munson,” Janet started in disbelief.

“Yeah, what gives?” Amelia chimed in, taking a small step closer to you as if to avoid having the conversation overheard, making it seem like the most dire thing in the world.

You shrug, eyes still trained on Eddie for a moment longer as you tried to hold back your amusement at everyone’s reactions. You were proud that you seemed to actually appear interested, if their reactions were anything to go on.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”

It appeared that your tone was also as convincing as you were hoping for, because both girls pulled faces at your reply. The football players lingered awkwardly, but didn’t dare chime in on the conversation; after another few tense moments, they said their goodbyes and disappeared quickly down the hall.

Janet dared to briefly look over her shoulder at Eddie again, who now appeared to be in conversation with his friends. But it’s as if he knew he was being watched again, because his eyes immediately flicked up, a grin teasing at his lips as he met Janet’s gaze. She quickly turned away from him as a surprised sound escaped her lips.

Amelia simply made a sound of distaste, her eyes locked on you, “Ew,” She started, “in what world is that freak cute?”

“He is pretty weird…” Janet added, her tone not nearly as harsh as Amelia’s, although you could nonetheless hear her obvious trepidation.

You roll your eyes, a harsh and mocking look on your face, “Jan, you think Anthony Michael Hall is cute.”

Your tone is a touch nasty, and you can see Amelia smirking at the jab despite herself - she and you were in agreement that said actor was not attractive.

“He is!” Janet insisted, looking between you both, “You guys saw Sixteen Candles too.”

“Yeah, and he was a total geek in it.” Amelia responded, a harsh smirk on her lips.

Your gaze drifted back to Eddie, who had finally looked away for a few moments as he conversed with his little gang of nerds. Choosing defiance, you decided to antagonize your friends a little, a mean smirk ghosting over your lips.

“Eddie’s cuter than Anthony Michael Hall, that’s for damn sure.” It felt so wrong to say his name and not just refer to him as “Munson” or “the freak,” but you figured it would make a stronger impact on them if you used his first name.

Both Amelia and Janet made offended sounds in unison, their expressions critical.

“You feeling okay?” Amelia asked, not with concern, but rather with judgment, “I didn’t think the break-up was that hard on you.”

Frustration flared up inside you at that remark - that felt like a personal jab even by Amelia standards. You couldn’t help the sharp look you flashed at her, eyes narrowing, “It wasn’t. Duncan doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.”

As if compelled to confrontation, Amelia couldn’t help but respond in disbelief, “Sure, whatever you say. Munson’s a pretty pathetic excuse for a rebound, though. You could do better.”

You were so damn tempted to continue arguing with her, as you were never one to back down, but seeing motion in Eddie’s direction stopped you from saying anything. Your eyes flicked up to watch as he and his friends started to walk down the hall, coming in your direction. As the group passed you, Eddie came to a halt, taking an exaggerated bow, his eyes locked on yours almost as if he knew what was going on.

“Ladies…” He taunted with a glint in his eyes. As he straightened back up, he looked between the three of you, a goofy smile plastered on his face. As he walked away, he gave you one final, obvious wink.

“Ugh, what a creep…” Janet said while you watched Eddie disappear down the hall. Realizing the time, you abruptly walked off without saying goodbye to either Amelia or Janet.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Aside from briefly saying ‘hello’ to one another in math class, you didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day; and even something as simple as that greeting turned the heads of a few of your classmates. Sure, you may have passed each other in the hall or spotted one another at lunch, but otherwise your schedules didn’t seem to allow for much of each other. That’s something you two would have to figure out once you got deeper into this little scheme of yours.

As your day ended and you made the drive to the ice skating rink, you pondered how exactly you and Eddie would pull this off. Should you be more up front, more assertive? Or should you let Eddie take the reins on that? How quickly should you move things along? Would you really keep this going until graduation? It seemed that you needed to find some time to discuss all these finer details with Eddie, and soon, or else your cover would definitely be blown.

Come Tuesday, your morning started off differently than you expected. As you walked up to the front doors of the school, Eddie seemed to appear out of thin air, slinking up alongside you. Before you realized who it was, you were about ready to tell them to back the hell up, but you caught the words on your tongue once you realized it was him. The sight of Eddie took you by surprise, your face inevitably saying so, as he shot you a playful grin in response.

“Morning, princess,” He greeted, bumping you with his shoulder. Despite wanting to glare at him and his insistence on breaking the oh-so-holy fake dating rules, you held back, instead giving him what you hoped was a coy look.

“Munson,” You answered simply, feeling strange having a conversation with him in the middle of all your peers, all out in the open like this. When you reached the front doors, Eddie held one open for you, which was a pleasant surprise. Once you’d both entered, Eddie remained at your side, a simple look of contentment on his face as you asked dryly, “What grand gestures do you plan to do today?”

“Oh, I’m going to sweep you off your feet,” He begins playfully, seeming to enjoy the occasional glances shot at the two of you, “You’ll be absolutely head over heels by the end of the afternoon.”

You find his humor both mildly amusing and mildly stale, but you nonetheless give him a slight, doubtful smirk, “I’m sure.”

Eddie looked you up and down while cracking another smile; you weren’t sure if he was trying to turn up the charm for show or if he was trying to win you over just a little, “So, when I ask you out, you want a whole show of it? Flowers, balloons, the whole nine yards?”

“Maybe you should drop in from a helicopter, make it really interesting.” You responded coolly. The contrast of your sense of humor versus your monotonous delivery was perhaps a bit jarring and hard for some to get used to, but Eddie nonetheless seemed amused by it.

“So high maintenance.” Eddie chided, to which you gave him a sideways look. You two continued towards your locker, acting as if you didn’t notice people’s glances; you figured Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you, and you definitely wanted to see how they’d react to you and Eddie this morning.

For a few moments, you two walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence, a small reminder that you didn’t actually know each other at all, that this was all make believe. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you as if he were deciding how to best engage with you in this school setting.

“Just looking at you yesterday was enough to set your friends off.” Eddie finally spoke up again as a wide grin spread across his lips, “Should I flirt a little more aggressively? Really get them worked up about it?”

You also couldn’t help but smirk a little - Amelia and Janet’s reactions were better than you could have anticipated, so much more dramatic than you expected. You were still miffed at Amelia thanks to her comment about Duncan, but you were sure that today she’d act as if nothing happened. Or at least, she’d try to, until seeing you with Eddie.

“We keep going at this rate, and Amelia and I might be in a cat fight by the end of the week.” You gave Eddie a wicked smile, which he didn’t expect, but he nonetheless looked back at you with just as much amusement.

“Maybe I need to step it up a little, then,” He responded as you two rounded the corner, your locker just down the hall. You immediately spotted Amelia and Janet there caught up in conversation, oblivious to you watching them from amongst the crowd of other students. You briefly paused as you studied them, Eddie following suit as he looked between you and them, “Should we go pay them a visit?”

You glanced up at Eddie through your lashes, similar fiendish glints in your eyes; you were wondering the exact same thing as him, debating whether to approach them or breeze on by as if they didn’t exist. Both were equally devious, and you momentarily felt pleased that you chose to make Eddie your fake boyfriend for this plan - in some ways, such as this, maybe you two were actually on the same page.

And then, the deciding factor just so happened to be heading in your friends’ direction.

Duncan walked down the hall with a quiet sort of confidence, and you absolutely loathed him for it. A few friends were with him as he stopped to chat with Amelia and Janet, and even from here his relaxed smile made you want to slap him. You hadn’t even realized you were clenching your jaw until Eddie spoke again.

“Get it together and let’s go over there.” He instructed, looking between your eyes and your tight jaw. He leaned forward a little with a wicked grin, “Come on. This is what you wanted me for, right? Let’s go get a reaction outta them.”

You chose to ignore the mild suggestiveness of Eddie's phrasing, although you did briefly narrow your eyes at him - you weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t help but hate that he was already doing his job well. He had a point, so you put on your best poker face and walked with confidence in the direction of your locker, Eddie right there alongside you. You made an effort to walk closer to him, to convey some kind of comradery, hoping that everyone would buy your bullshit.

Janet, always the most aware of the bunch, spotted you first, her expression shifting with worry. It wasn’t until you were practically on top of the group that the rest of them noticed your arrival, and everyone’s faces fell into various expressions of confusion, annoyance, and loathing. God, they were all so dramatic.

“Excuse me.” You said to one of Duncan’s friends in the bratty tone that most of them were used to, as he was blocking your locker. When he didn’t move right away, your brows shot up in threatening impatience, prompting him to quickly step aside. Eddie’s eyes followed the guy just to make him more uncomfortable as you opened your locker, intentionally letting it swing loudly against the one beside it.

“You lost, Munson?” Duncan questioned in a challenging tone, stepping forward with his gaze trained on Eddie. You turned, prepared to make some quick retort in defense of your fake boyfriend, but he beat you to the punch.

“Do I look lost?” Eddie put on a false look of confusion before a wild grin broke out across his lips. His response caused you to snort out a small laugh, Duncan looking back and forth between you two with skepticism before his eyes finally settled on you.

“Are you serious?” His tone was accusing as he took a step toward you. You kept your face calm and your eyes cold as you rooted around in your locker, hoping that your supposed nonchalance would really get under his skin.

“About what?” You taunted, the corner of your mouth barely pulling up into a smirk. You shut your locker, finally looking Duncan in the face to find him gazing at you with bafflement. The whole group was watching with similar expressions, but you paid them no mind, “This is my locker. If you don’t like what you see, go somewhere else.”

You looked back at Eddie, who seemed to be eating this up, not afraid of showing his amusement plainly across his face. You figured that that was also doing an incredible job of getting under Duncan’s skin.

“Walk me to class?” You prompted with a flirty tone, to which Eddie smiled. It was a look that could have convinced you that he was actually interested if you didn’t know any better.

“Lead the way.” His fingers ever so slightly grazed the small of your back as you walked between him and Duncan, leading him away from the group without looking back at them, as tempting as it was. Eddie followed right behind you, his shoulders nearly brushing yours as you maneuvered through the crowd. Classes hadn’t even started yet, but already you were enjoying this day far too much.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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