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#dark harry
jarofstyles · 1 month
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Lush
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Hello my ducklings! Since we have been getting a lot of questions about our Patreon and what is included, we decided to give you guys peeks into the series we have exclusively on there. This is Lush, escort y/n x dark businessman H. There will be some twists and turns in this one, hot smut, a fake relationship and a possessive and slightly obsessive dark H- our favorite. This series will only be on Patreon but this is the first part to give you a taste!
Check out our Patreon for access to Lush and our other exclusive series + 100+ exclusive writings.
Warnings- escorting, mention of homelessness and money struggles, daddy kink etc
WC- 2.9k
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Y/N knew her job, and she did it well.
Sit still, look pretty. Perched on her favorite client’s lap, his strong thigh covered in a trouser that matched the blazer that probably cost more than she’d made in the last 3 months, she sipped her champagne quietly and ‘let the men talk.’
Harry Styles was an enigma. He had popped up a few weeks ago, bringing her to a dinner after a debriefing in a lux hotel in one of the bigger hotels on the Vegas strip. The window had overlooked it all, a penthouse that seemed to be used quite frequently considering the fridge had been stocked and he had socks stuffed in a drawer that she’d used later that night.
“I need you to sit on my lap, keep me company.” He had said plainly. The man was intimidating. Broad and tall, soft brown hair swept back and off his forehead. Stubble shadowing his face and over his lip, his features were sharp and his eyes a little harsh, but she could whole heartedly admit that he was the most attractive client she’d ever had. Being a year in after escaping a situation that was still haunting her nightmares, she had been eager to accept the higher paying and well vetted job she had, thank god, stumbled into. It wasn’t conventional, no, but nothing really was in Vegas.
“I can do that.” She replied, hands folded in her lap. He stood before her as she had sat on the couch, looking up at him as he spoke. “Is that all we’re doing in our time together?” To put it in a nicer way of asking. She could have bluntly asked if he was going to want sex, but she did try to at least have a little decorum- until the situation granted the freedom of it. It wasn’t uncommon for her and she was safe, tested, and generally did enjoy sex- but it was a job. This time, however, would probably be enjoyed more than she had in the past. A real attraction to the man would be helpful in many parts of making this more enjoyable.
“Who said that?” He rose a brow, looking down at her. It was a smoldering look but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away as he got closer and tilted her chin up. “I intend to take everything you’ll offer. I’d suggest canceling your plans for tomorrow.” She didn’t have to ask why. It was clear this man intended to fuck her, and fuck her well.
Spoiler- he did.  Harry had, for all intents and purposes, rocked her shit. So when she found his name on her books twice the next week, she hadn’t complained. She’d been excited, actually, considering she’d been able to feel the sting of her ass when she’d sat in the Lyft the next morning to take her to her apartment. Another good thing about him, she found as she looked in her purse, was that he tipped extremely well. More than was deserved, if she was being honest, but the one time the girl brought it up he had shoved another hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her sleep shorts and sent her on her way.
It had become known to her that he specifically requested her. If she wasn’t available, he’d offer more money than the other client was paying- and her Madam had no problem with that, considering it upped her cut. She found herself with him 3 times this week, frequenting clubs and drowning out business talk as his large hand splayed across her waist and the other hand held a sweaty amber colored liquor on the rocks. Much to many of her friends and client’s surprise, Y/N didn’t drink much. She stuck to lighter things, champagne and rosé, and kept to a one to two drink maximum. She preferred keeping a clear head when on the job and honestly? Drinking wasn’t her thing. A buzz was nice, but anything past that meant a headache in the morning. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with.
This meeting was going past its normal time, making her wonder what was being said. If she was being frank- Y/N didn’t do much listening in his meetings. It felt like they were talking in code, another language, and she couldn’t be assed to listen about imports and exports and blah, blah, blah. Her brain was happy to sit and be warm on a handsome man’s lap, observing the dance floor. Dancing used to be so fun, something she’d always loved to do as a child. Now she didn’t get to do as much, even though she’d wished she could. Club dancing was far different than her normal type but if she was on the balcony of the most VIP of the VIP sections, she was going to take her people watching to the next level.
“Y’alright?” His raspy voice breathed over her ear, not taking his eyes off the men who were talking amongst themselves. “I know it’s late. We can go back soon.” While Harry wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, he did respect her time. He was a little scary, truthfully, and she didn’t want to upset him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was respectful and kind to her, he spoiled her with tips and orgasms, and she had no complaints. If staying out a bit later than he had said was the least of her worries besides his scowling, she was golden.
“I’m okay.” She smiled. “People watching. Sorry, I’m not paying attention. Dunno what half of the stuff you’re talking about means.”
Y/N had no reality of what he did. No clue. She was too afraid to google him. To ruin the illusion she had of him in her head. He passed the background test and signed the heavy contract that came with hiring her, so he wasn’t about to harm her or anything- and from what she’s learned in Vegas, sometimes you’re better off not knowing. There was a lot of shady business practices that went on. It was legitimately upset her if he was a bad person outside of the law, so she decided not to go searching for answers she possibly didn’t want to find.
“That’s good.” He murmured, pressing a private kiss underneath her ear. “Don’t worry about it. S’nothing interesting anyways. Got t’keep up appearances.” His voice dropped. “Would much rather be between your thighs. Missed this body while I was away.”
And, Oh. It made her hot, a nervous giggle leaving her throat as the words tickled against her ear. Harry had gone away on a business trip, he’d prefaced it because he had been gone 4 day. He’d prescheduled to meet her on the day he came back. Her stomach did a swoop in her body as the cool hand that held his glass deposited it on the table, finding her thigh and squeezing over it. “You did?”
She had to wonder if he was buttering her up, but the thought was dispelled because Harry didn’t need to do that. He had always been a bit blunt and she liked that about him. Less sweet talk that he didn’t mean. What he said made sense- complimenting her body and her mouth and appearance, what she did for him, but he never went too far and said things he didn’t mean. So she believed him when he nodded, slipping his hand further up her dress and making her swallow thickly. He’d given her pretty lingerie he’d bought from wherever he went, the buttery silk laying against her body under the dress that hugged her figure. Red, he said, because she was a little devil between the sheets. “I did. Got t’bring you with me next time.”
Some girls did that. Y/N wasn’t even sure what the rate would be for a trip, but the idea appealed to her. “You sure you can afford it?” She whispered back, a playful tilt to her lips. Obviously he could. He was by far the wealthiest man she had in her books, evident by the liquor he ordered, the watches he wore and the cars the drove in. It was arousing to her, if she was being honest. When she settled down one day, the one thing she really wanted was financial stability. Maybe that sounded shallow, but with her history with no money and being a little jaded, it made sense to her.
“Can afford that, and a shopping spree for you while I do business.” He brushed his cool fingertips against her slightly damp panties. Harry didn’t smile often, but when he did? It was a smirk. A hot, arrogant little smirk that she should probably be annoyed by, but wasn’t. “Need to get you out of here, though. Have something I want to talk to you about before I sink you down on my cock.” His fingers retreated after a gentle brush to find them wet, moving to her leg as he began to wrap up the meeting. People would listen, even if they weren’t finished- he just had that way about him.
—--
Y/N had no clue what, exactly, he wanted to talk to her about. They’d had some nice conversations so far about a plethora of things. Movies, books, restaurants, some morals. But it wasn’t too deep. Both of them had seen it for what it was, even if they had impeccable sexual chemistry. She didn’t know the man all that well, only what was told to her and what he had divulged- and knowing the man had a sweet tooth didn’t account for much. So it was slightly intimidating when he asked her to meet him in the living room of the suite as he put away his watch and jacket.
What could he possibly have to talk to her about? Her brain was coming up with nothing.
“C’mere.” He sat himself down on the couch, offering his lap back up to her. It wasn’t something she did in private unless his hands were down her panties or she was riding him, but she decided to go for it. Her heels kicked off to the side, she sat herself back in the familiar way. It had taken her off guard, but his hand took her own and she watched as he flipped it over, thumbing over her ring finger. “I need to ask you a favor. A proposition.” He murmured, calculating eyes going back to her face. “And you can say no, if you want. I’ll understand.” Of course, this made her alarm bells ring but there was little time to panic. Considering he was a very get to the point man, he did exactly that. “I’d like for you to quit your current job and pretend to be my fiance.”
The bomb was dropped. Why, exactly, a man of his caliber needed a fake fiance? She had not a fucking clue. Harry continued, her face slack in shock. He took that into account, it seemed. “I like you. You’re polite, know how to behave in public. Gorgeous little thing. You’re intelligent, you’re quick, and you understand how to keep to yourself. That’s a very valuable thing to me.” His thumb resumed rubbing her ring finger. “We have incredible sex. You fulfill and exceed my needs, and I’m satisfied with sex for once in my life.” Y/N let him do whatever he wanted and thoroughly enjoyed it. There was no faking it with them. Their chemistry crackled in the air when it shifted. There was no doubting that. “My family has been pressuring me to settle down. I have no time to properly date, nor the desire to.” He sure as fuck wasn’t the type to go on dating apps, and the dating pool he was around was a lot of vapid people with money hungry libidos. At least he would know Y/N was there for money and there would be no confusion between them. “I enjoy your company. It isn’t traditional nor conventional, but I’d provide for you. I will deposit your average monthly income in your own bank account and give you a card to my own. I’d pay for your rent while you stay with me, and you’d have free time to do as you please. Whatever hobbies you’d like. Horse riding, art, reading, I don’t care what it is if you like it.”
Her head was swimming. What the fuck? She’d heard of men falling in love with escorts, sure, but this seemed… More transactional. For some reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable. He wasn’t proclaiming love after barely knowing her. He knew how it went and that she needed to be provided for. “Like a sugar baby?” She blurted out.
“Not particularly. My fiance in title. You’ve been introduced as my girl to everyone already, so it isn’t a difficult sell to anyone but my family. We’d announce our engagement, I’ll bring you to London to meet them, let it run it’s course.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want you with anyone else while you’re mine. I’ll be the only one you sleep with, and vice versa. I don’t want you to split your time between me and anyone else. I’m asking for devotion, which is a lot. But I’d like it to be you.”
“Why?” Y/N knew he had explained it but it was still confusing. “I know what you’ve said but… surely theres other people that you’d want to ask? I’m just an escort you’ve been seeing for a little while. I mean.. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong.” And she was extremely attracted to him and his energy, but… “I’m not in my escort mode all the time. I don’t want to be working 24/7. I’m not as docile while off the clock.” She wasn’t about to get put into 24/7 smile and nod territory. It was fine when it was an outing, or even a night, but she did have a personality she quite liked outside of it.
“I wouldn’t expect you to be agreeable all the time. In fact, I’d like to see you fight me a little.” Harry’s smirk returned. “Makes the sex hotter. But…” he returned to his business face. “I chose you because we get along. I don’t like a lot of people. I may pretend I do, but it’s difficult for me to find people who don’t make me irritated. You’re… interesting to me.” It wasn’t the answer she expected, no, but still. She had more questions.
“So what about after it’s all done and over with? I’ll end up on the streets, homeless again because I know Madam isn’t going to just let me back on her lists.” She crossed her arms, not realizing what she’d said. Harry caught it, pocketing it for later. It didn’t sit right that she had been on the streets at all, but that wasn’t a topic he could broach right now. He didn’t have the right to ask yet.
“I will make sure you’re set after this is done.” He promised. “I will have all of your expenses covered while you’re with me. Nails, hair, food, clothing, hobbies. You’ll be making your pay and then some every week and not touching it. And if it ends early, I will payout an extra mil. Does that sound reasonable?” He rose an eyebrow. “I’ve got the paperwork with me, but you can sit on it if you want.”
“How long can I sit on it for?” It took everything in her to not bite at her nails. The one thing the acrylics were good for was curbing that habit. “It’s not a no, but I’d like to look at the contract and have a lawyer look over it before I agree to anything.” As young as she may seem, she wasn’t stupid. This would be a perfect way to take advantage of her. While she didn't have that feeling from him, she’d be dumb not to protect herself.
She didn’t expect the smile from him, but it made her heart beat a bit faster as he brought her hand up to kiss it. “Smart fuckin’ girl you are.” He laughed. “Good. That works with me. I hope you do sign it, though.” His eyes darkened a bit. Harry wasn’t good at sharing and the idea of this pretty thing belonging to him, in essence, made his dick twitch. “I’d love to take you with me to Italy and see you on my yacht. Maybe fuck you on it. Think you’d really love that.”
Y/N had a feeling she would, too. The idea of being with one man, a man she so far enjoyed despite a bit of arrogance and intimidation, was appealing after a year here. But she needed to cover her own ass before sinking into something too good to be true. “I would.” Her nails moved from his hand to card through his soft hair. “I’d love that. But I think you should focus on tonight, hm?” Her legs opened a little, and she guided his hand back to where it had been previously. “Take a look at the pretty things you’ve already got, Daddy.”
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Kinkmas 🎄 № 1: Cockwarming
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summary: you kinda (not really) bet harry to ‘no nut november’ and its finally december 1st. 
word count: 2.8k
reading time: 11 min
content warnings: 18+,cockwarming (obviously), teasing, grinding, brief fingering, fluff, clingy reader (and harry tbh), desperate, passionate p in v sex, pet names (baby, lovie). 
a/n: Welcome to Kinkmas!
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You had told Harry it was a childish idea. But one thing about Harry, he was stubborn and hard-headed, and if you'd told him not to do something he was going to do anyway….well, he'd just commit to it ten times harder. And that's precisely what he did with No Nut November. 
He'd brought up the idea of participating directly after the two of you had some particularly mindblowing Halloween sex. You were giggling, wrapped up in one another, Halloween costume in pieces, still basking in your orgasm glow when you'd off-handedly joked how you couldn't believe you'd gone so long without sex like you'd grown accustomed to with Harry. He'd agreed, joking that he'd 'implode' without having you at least four times a week. Which led to you challenging him, lovingly calling him pussy whipped, and saying he couldn't last two days without you before he came begging for it. You know, because you've seen it before.  His record was actually three days. 
But still, if you think about it too hard, you'd realize that this, No Nut November, not having had sex with your boyfriend in a month, nonsense is all your own fault. You challenged him, and he swore to No Nut November because he's….Harry, meaning he also committed you to it as well, and now here you are. In bed, counting down the hours until December 1st. Literally. Minute by minute. And hour by hour. You've been trying to distract yourself with a book for the last hour, but you've not retained any of the words your eyes have been scanning despite flipping the pages. All you can think about is how Harry's barely touched you outside of light caresses and feather-light pecks to your lips. For. The. Last. Month. The material you were reading is by no means helping. All the talk of groaping, nipping, and ravishing. They seemed to be the only words you could pay any attention to. 
While you have made your disdain for Harry's unnecessary commitment known, Harry has seemed to be unphased by it all. It was your favorite thing about him and your biggest pet peeve. He was always so nonchalant. About everything, except you! Usually, at least, but much to your surprise, he's been able to contain himself and even turned down your many attempts to break his silly vow early this month. You were disappointed, and it may have led to an even deeper conversation that the two of you needed to have when it came to your relationship with sex and your sex life. And while you were grateful that this silly bet could be a vehicle for you to have that conversation, you were ready for it to all be done. You looked over at the clock on Harry's bedside table. 
One more hour. Forty-five minutes, to be exact.  
Harry was still in the bathroom, going through his nightly routine and trying to get a grip himself. Harry had been strong for 29 days, nearly 30 days. He could make it one more night. But, as Harry wraps the floss around his fingers, he tries to remember why he agreed to do this in the first place. To prove a point, he's sure. What point? He couldn't think of anything else but you to think of a decent answer. But he's noticed. How you've been huffing around the house all month, but especially today, hoping he'd break on the last day and give you what you've been desperate for. How you've been glancing at the clock every forty-five minutes since the sunset. How - 
"Harry, come to bed, will you?" your voice carries into the en suite from the bedroom. He can't help but smirk. You've been slightly whiny all day, all week, really, and he found it so fucking endearing. Knowing that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. You'd deny it, but this arrangement the past month has been a fun challenge for you. He knows how much you enjoy being teased, and this month has been nothing if not one giant tease.  
So, not wanting to drag out your misery any longer, Harry rushes through the rest of his routine and comes to the doorway, leaning against it, smiling at you and your book, cuddled under the covers. 
"How's the book?" He asks. He always asks. 
"Meh. It's okay, not as good as the first one." You rush out, place your bookmark, and close the pages. You put it on your bedside table, turning off your light, leaving only the lamp on Harry's bedside table to illuminate the room. You pat his spot next to him, a slight pout on your lips when he doesn't budge from his spot leaning against the doorframe. "Harry….come on, bedtime. I'm exhausted." 
"Alright," he chuckles, pushing off the doorframe, "you just remember that." He says, peeping the cute set you'd decided to go to sleep in tonight. It was a silk baby blue, matching set that you'd just bought on a Cyber Monday sale. You figured it'd be the perfect thing to wear to break your temporary celibacy. 
"Remember what?" you question oh too innocently, through a yawn, your eyes already closed. 
"It's bedtime. Emphasis on bed." He flicks off the lamp on his bedside table and slides into bed in his spot behind you. You notice it after a few moments once he's comfortably tucked behind you, an arm around your waist. And you can't help the proud smirk that creeps onto your face. 
Your plan worked! 
You knew that the new set you'd put on, plus a few pouts, would get him hard…..he was almost too easy. So you allow yourself to wiggle around, to 'get more comfortable,' and be positive that you'd feel a grip around your hip, telling you to "be still, and go to sleep." It had happened so many nights this month, but not tonight. His tight grip is there tonight, but it's encouraging your movements. You let out a short gasp, biting your lower lip when you feel Harry's lips on the back of your neck. 
"I thought it was bedtime." you tease.
"It is. I just…..I was thinking…" he mumbles between kisses to your neck and shoulder and nibbles your earlobe.
"...yes.."
"What if I just slip inside. That's not cheating, is it?" 
"It's the last day." you giggle, wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine but quickly losing any remnants of self-control with his lips doing wonders on your neck.
"Exactly, it would suck to come all this way to lose on a technicality, wouldn't it? So what do you think, Lovie? Did we still finish the challenge if I just - put it inside ya? Just missed you wrapped around me, baby." Now it's Harry who's whining, hand tight on your hip, grinding your ass down into his hardening cock. 
You have half a mind to turn him down. After all the struggle you've been through this month, just for him to want to give in on the last day? But he feels so good pressed against you, and his lips are so soft pressed against that spot on your neck that gets you every time. His voice grounds you back down to earth before you can get too lost in the feeling. 
"Baby…" 
"This was your idea," you say earnestly.
"You dared me." 
"I did no such -" Just then, he nipped at your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin under your ear, "No, I didn't. You're just a brat." you giggle, throwing the nickname right back at him…for once. 
He pinches your side with a groan. "Don't be mean. I'm in need here, baby. Come on." He continues his work on your neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. After a few moments, though, he's had enough and taps at your hip, signaling you to turn over. You allow him to flip you on your other side, facing him, his lips instantly catching yours. He slots his throat between your thighs, bringing your hips to grind down onto the flexed muscle of his thigh. You can't help but let out a moan of relief that slips from your lips into Harry's mouth, which he swallows for you happily. 
You allow your hands to twist into his curls at the nape of his neck, racking your nails down his scalp, pulling him closer. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you press yourself even further into him, your hips moving on their own accord now. 
"You sure you want to - wanna give up." you taunt, nipping at his bottom lip. 
"I. don't care. Need you. Please." 
In that moment, you realize that all he needed to do was beg. All he ever needs to do is beg, and you are absolute putty in his hands. 
You pull back from his lips just a few centimeters, leaning your forehead on his. But Harry was starved, chasing after your lips with his, nipping at your lips. 
"Please, baby." 
It was unnecessary, now. Harry's begging. You were already going to give him what he wanted, but the prayer rolling off his lips still makes your stomach flip. 
"S'not cheating." you rush out before crashing your lips to his once again, eating his moans. 
Suddenly, the two of you are a mess of limbs, trying to rid each other of your clothes. Granted, it was just your silk sleep set and his boxers, but the two of you refusing to separate lips made things much more difficult. Once you were both rid of the barriers, Harry rolled on top of you, burying himself in your shoulder, running his nose up your neck, nipping his way up, and moving his hips into yours. He lets out a hiss as his tip nudges at your clit, wet with your arousal from grinding down on his thigh.
"Fuck, baby." he takes his hand from your hip, snaking it between you two, "Gotta get you ready for me, okay?" He moans, leaning his forehead on hears, with a sweet peck to the pout that's made its way to your lips when you realize what he is doing. 
"Harry - just -" 
"It's been a month. You're not changing my mind, hey. Look at me." He says, nudging his nose to yours, "I'm right here. You just relax and take what I give you. Got it?" when you nod, without a word, he slips one of his thick fingers inside. "Got it?" 
"Mhm. yeah. Sorry." you moan, curling yourself into Harry's neck. 
"It's okay. Just relax; gotta fit me in there, yeah?" Harry coos at you, skillfully working his finger in and out of you. "Talk to me, baby. Missed you too much." 
"Missed you too, Harry -" You force yourself away from him enough to turn your head towards him to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Missed you so much, you have no idea." you plead, "Please, more." You whimper, rolling your hips into his hand, and he obliges, slowly pushing in a second digit. 
"What do we say?" 
"Thank you," you whine out, rolling your head back on your pillow, allowing Harry the room to mark up your neck like he's been waiting for all month. 
"And, Lovie?" 
"Hmm." you hum, blinking up at Harry. 
"No coming," he smirked down at you, one hand between your legs and his other arm propping himself up on his elbow. You huff at him but nod your understanding, turning yourself into his neck for comfort while his fingers work you open. "There, you go, baby." He coos as he feels you relax on his fingers, making him want to add a third just for…safety. And he does, enjoying the cute noises bubbling up your throat with each drag of his fingers. "You're doing so good, baby. You think you're ready for me?" 
You nod frantically, rolling your hips up into his hand to convince him. "Yes, always ready. Please." 
He plants a deep kiss on your lips, pulling his fingers out of you, swallowing your moan in protest. He pulls away, licking his fingers clean, before maneuvering himself back, hovering over you. Harry grabs ahold of himself at the base, allowing you to roll your hips up, your clit rubbing up and down the tip of his cock.  
"Shhh, baby. I'm gonna give it to you but remember, I'm just - fuck - just filling you up, okay. Gotta stay still, I'm okay?" He huffs, nipping at your jaw, placing kisses anywhere he can reach. 
"Yes. Please, Harry, just -" 
"Stay still, baby," he smirked, holding your hip into the mattress. When he's satisfied with your limited wiggling, he slowly runs his tip up and down your folds a few times, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside, inch by inch. "Oh, Lovie." he groans into your mouth, "Missed you so much." he licks at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, wanting to be wholly consumed with you, and you allow him to be. When he's fully seated inside, you tighten your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being so full. The heaviness of him, how deep he was. It was heavenly. You enjoy his lips, kissing, and his teeth nibbling, his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Enjoying the feeling of Harry. And with his lips working magic all over? You weren't sure how much longer you could just allow him to be in you without him being in you.  
"Harry," you whine, "Please move." 
"I can't." 
"Yes, you can," you grumble, shifting your hips up to meet his, just for him to hold you back down. 
"Stay still," he begs, now because he's losing his resolve and his slow ability not to finish inside you, with the way you're wrapped around him, rolling your hips and squeezing - but he's made it far. He can't give up now, not when he's so close - god, is he already tight? Just from being buried in you for a couple of minutes? You are quite literally fluttering around him, but still, he shouldn't - 
"No. Harry, look. You can move - look." you insist, turning your attention to the alarm clock on his bedside table. 
12:02 AM
In blinking red numbers. 
"This stupid bet is over, please, Harry - oh." 
He only hesitated a split second, trying to wrap his mind around what his eyes were seeing. But once it clicked. It clicked. And his hips seemed to be on autopilot, the way they slowly and sloppily rolled against yours, quickly coming up with a pace that worked magic for you both as he ground his pelvis into your clit. 
"Fuck, baby - you feel so fucking good." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, your head cradled between his forearms. "I missed you so much." 
"I missed - I missed you too." you barely get the words out before you feel it creeping up on you, the tightening in your belling and tingling at the base of your spine. "I'm -" 
"I know, baby, me too. Shit." He hisses, kissing down your neck, speeding up his hips. You wrap your fingers in his hair, giving it an encouraging tug that you know he always appreciates. To which he groans in your neck, and you revel in it. You're so close that your skin starts to prick with heat, and all you can sense is Harry. "Come with me. Please, Lovie." Harry begs, so you do. 
You come with a bright white light flash behind your lids, your eyes snap shut, and you hold onto Harry as he holds onto you, groaning into the juncture between your shoulder and neck, biting his own lip. 
A few moments later, you're still on cloud nine. You're floating, weightless, as Harry cleans up the mess between your legs, not before admiring at first, though. 
"You are such a freak." you giggle, swatting Harry away and closing your knees together. "Clean me up or let me do it, but please don't -." 
"Don't, what? I like seeing the mess I've made." He smirks. You roll your eyes as he opens your legs and begins work cleaning you up. 
"Thank you," you murmur through a yawn. Already drawing the covers over you. Harry cleans himself off, tossing the rag on the floor to the foot of the bed, promising to put it away in the morning. 
"Sorry, by the way. Didn't mean to make the first time we had sex in a month a quicky." he chuckles, climbing into bed with your wrapping himself around your naked form. "I don't know what I expected to happen, though. Don't let me do that again." He sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek. 
"Never." 
🎄🎄🎄🎄
kinkmas 2023 masterlist
vote on day 2′s prompt here
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cherry-titz · 4 months
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HI GUYS @cherryjuiceblues here ! oof, this took me longer than i anticipated to finish, and for that i am sorry, friends! this is my installment to mine and @1800titz first collab :D if you haven't already read part one, written by titz herself, then you can do so here !!
some warnings before you read! following on from part one, this is dark harry. some very dark themes going on. and once again, as miss titz previously stated, harry is simply a faceclaim here. there is absolutely no intention to associate the real harry with this fictitious one !!
content warnings include: dom/sub themes, exhibitionism, light spanking/impact play, choking, name-calling, degradation, praise, threats of intending to cause harm (hitchhikerry is not a good man at all). generally, he's a bit meaner in this one!
word count is just under 11k (both of us had aimed to write a short and snappy 6-7k each but here we are LMAO) !! ENJOY :D
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This bathroom is filthy. The slanted mirror swirls a little, in a thick, hypnotic puddle, as Y/N stares at the smeared reflection before her.
A new low, perhaps—this night, for Y/N (only competing with one other evening that springs to mind). In an unloved bar, in a dingy bathroom, fingers digging into grimy porcelain that no amount of suds from the muddy bar of soap could clean. (And, really—whose idea was it to have bars of soap in a public place?) Clenching digits in an attempt to wake up some from the wave of paranoia that skittered across her skin in the public eye of the bar.
Y/N swears her pupils fluctuate as she grounds herself in them. Recollects herself in this pigsty of an establishment. Forces some of the alcohol to evaporate off of her in waves as she sobers up to the thought of piss-stained tiles and sticky toilet seats.
Y/N doesn’t drink alone.
But she didn’t do hitchhikers either and look where that got her.
In a shithole—that’s where. In a shithole, on her lonesome, on a Monday night of all nights. Argued to be the worst day of the week to wake up, go to school, work—and most relevantly—get drunk. But she’d considered it important to force herself out—to maintain control over her actions whether they be sensible or not. It was rather unimportant to Y/N what day of the week it was. They’d sort of all merged into one since receiving the phone call—every day reduced to the same thoughts tick, tick, ticking inside of her head. Hours spent ping-ponging back and forth over every moment in which her life could have ended inside of that car.
She’d tried since; to phone him back. Each time met with the denying wall of a payphone. Y/N almost grew comforted by that failure—that safety of knowing no one would ever answer—until rationality kicked in and she blocked the number. A small, tiny ounce of power to hold.
And there’s a part of her, still, that doesn’t quite believe it. That surely friendly Harry—adorned in his soft sweatshirt, with his dimpled cheeks and yellow nails—could have only been laughing with his friends, all huddled around his phone that blasted on speaker, at the successful spooking of an unassuming girl. Despite the fact of all the evidence stacking up against him—that she’d heard only his breaths, only his voice, and the undeniable dead of night surrounding him. She needn’t even ponder over the possibility to accept it—lone stranger on the side of the road, in the dead of night, sleeping at a motel, so eager to manhandle and encourage Y/N’s struggle—
The door clatters, and then a body pushes it open, the heavy wood resisting some and disguising Y/N’s flinch at the sudden intrusion. She clears her throat, turning the tap on and pretending to wash her hands as she meets the eyes of a woman in the mirror, a small weak smile upturning Y/N’s lips, before she disappears inside a cubicle.
She’s retraced every single moment of that night. Looking back with shame and humiliation. Because (and it’s pointless to waste even a second on it now but) how silly—how stupid—does someone have to be; how lacking in common sense or respect for one’s self, to pick up a stranger on the side of the road. Harry was right to scold her over the phone, no matter the irony of it all. She might as well have served herself up on a platter for him to take. So easy, he’d said. 
So easy it hadn’t been fun, is all Y/N can assume.
The broken seal of the door reminds her of the outside world, shaking her head—an attempt to rattle her thoughts into submission, to collect herself and focus on the surface level image of her reflection. To remember the facts. That she looks pretty. Pretty and put-together—and ready to drown more of her sorrows in another cocktail mixed with her chosen spirit.
It’s as quiet as it was before Y/N slipped into the bathroom, a handful of lonely men scattered on opposite ends of the bar—the occasional group huddled around a table—or a couple sprawled against a sofa. The wall-mounted television has been switched on, subtitles an obnoxious fluorescent yellow as the news captures the attention of few desolate drinkers. Y/N doesn’t notice the extra body occupying a high-top table nearest to the bar, her back turned towards them, as she makes herself (comfortable would be an exaggeration) settled once again on a rickety, wooden stool.
She doesn’t notice. Not until she orders a Cosmopolitan and twists her clutch onto her lap, opening the zipper’s teeth, fingers pinching the familiar edge of her card just enough for it to peek past the confines, and is hastily denied by the bartender. He shakes his head, hands busy as he mixes her drink, nodding in some direction behind her as he says, “Gentleman over there paid for it.”
And that… that can’t be right. Gentle and man are two respected words in their own right but together? Y/N’s spine straightens and her muscles tighten. There’s no way she could know, but somehow she does—shutting her eyes, expelling a breath in preparation—as she twists around on her stool to see the man who she invited into her sedan all those days ago. There was nothing gentle about that night.
Or so she found out.
And he looks… the same. Of course he does.
Same chocolate-swirled curls brushing against the unperturbed smoothness of his forehead. Same strong line of his nose, same hard clench of his jaw dusted in scruff that she’d let him brush against her face as they’d kissed. Same plush lips that purse around the rim of a tumbler, cheekbones sharp as he tips his head back enough to allow the cool liquid to slick down his throat. Same rough, sinewy fingers—the subdued yellow of his nails (so far along the spectrum from the blinding fluorescence of the television subtitles) now chipped in a way that suggests it’s fashionable as opposed to scruffy.
All the same features and yet Y/N can’t help but picture them in a new, scathing light—those soft tendrils matted with thick, dark blood, splatters dripping down his temple and beading at his chin. Blush-tinted lips curled up in a sinister, satisfied smile—chilling enough to slow the blood in Y/N’s veins—and those hands; his fingers that had previously delivered so much pleasure, wrapping around the handle of a sharpened blade with the intent to inflict more than she could have bargained for—no sunshine yellow in sight. 
And the morbid image is hardly helped by the baggy garments that swallow his limbs, grey sweats and black hoodie selling one of two different visuals. Either that of a cosy boyfriend or a looming presence on a dimly lit street, late at night. Y/N’s brain opts for the latter.
Harry meets Y/N’s gaze with confidence—if he is surprised, or displeased, or worried by her presence then it shows none on his face. She watches the tick of his throat as he swallows the remainder of what looks like whiskey, before carelessly sliding the glass across the table in which he is slouching away from with arrogance, to meet its other empty friend as they clink together. His posture suggests complete ease—the sort of position you would take on a deep-set sofa—an ankle slung across a knee, an elbow propped behind you. Perhaps the type of arrogance only the person who had admitted their desire to murder you could have.
She blinks at him, unable to startle back around in fear. Not in order to preserve any sort of upper hand—but from a complete lack of said immediate panic; that fight or flight response. She blinks as she sees the screen of her phone behind her eyelids; as she sees every unanswered call she dialled to that payphone. The ringing in her ear as she waited, and waited, and waited.
The reminiscence, the amusement in his tone—that switched as though controlled by one—to disappointment and disdain, to deliver a warning with such severity that only left Y/N with more questions. Why wait an entire week to call? Why tell her about his intention? How many times had he killed before? Why didn’t he kill her?
“—Police have found what they believe to be the body of twenty-five-year-old Ruby Wilcox…” Y/N doesn’t know why this specific statement is deemed salient enough to shove it’s way past all the other droning noise and embed itself deep within her head—but it is. As though Ruby Wilcox is her own name, Y/N feels a pit of dread churning around inside of her stomach, twisting and turning in a true derivation of discomfort, as she peers around to acknowledge that she’s heard correctly, skimming the subtitles with grave trepidation. The journalist goes on, “...reported missing six days ago…” but Y/N already feels as though she’s heard the story.
She turns back towards Harry, unsure as to why it feels necessary to do so—the moment their eyes met the first time, she should have bolted. Harry’s already looking at her, as though his eyes have never trailed away, and it’s telling—the quirk of his lips. The way his tongue darts out to wet them and he can’t contain the small bracket that they form into.
His left eye flutters closed in a wink as new droning voices of monotonous news presenters burrow deeper and deeper into Y/N’s skin. The fear is undeniable. It aches deep inside the marrow of her bones; a lingering, languishing throbbing that can only be attributed to embedded dread. But if Y/N can’t deny that she hasn’t run for the hills then she also can’t deny the way the fear dances atop her skin like little bolts of lightning. Displacing the panic with a desperate flush of rage—a desire for violence to be met with violence—in a less than chaste way.
The danger—it… excites her, it challenges her. To know why, and how, to learn the extent of what spared her life. To take more. It feels reckless; almost demanding of death. It feels belittling, and demeaning, and like everything every girl is ever taught not to do. Could Y/N really justify endangering her life for the perversity of something as insignificant as body-slumping sex? Could she ever look herself in the eye again?
…Did it matter?
It doesn’t seem to when Harry suddenly stretches his arms out above his head, cracking the bones from his strenuous period of sitting down, and pushes himself up from the creaking, groaning chair. It seems as though the decision is made for Y/N when she bolts to follow him without a second thought. Or she bolts in her mind—her body delivers a much more convincing performance of nonchalance—seemingly casual as she sifts through her clutch in a faux check of inventory.
And then, when Harry’s broad back faces her for long enough, weaving his way towards the steel door of the back entrance—that’s when Y/N jumps down from her stool, downs the entirety of her drink and relishes in the warmth that blossoms in her chest, and leaves the bar.
The heavy door screams on its hinges, slamming shut with a reverberating bang. Y/N peers left down the alleyway, dim light from a distant streetlamp casting shadows across gravel—
“Sneaky little thing.”
Y/N startles, whipping around to see her stranger (surprised but not understandably by logic) as he mutters, “No self-preservation.” Effortlessly cool, leaning against the exterior of the bar—rough brick undoubtedly frigid and scratchy. His jaw works incessantly, clearly nursing a flavour of gum that he can only just have popped into his mouth—and disgust gurgles in Y/N’s stomach at the sight of his demeanour—unsettling yet titillating, all the same.
“Y’following me?” he pushes forward off of the wall, height suddenly looming as his lip curls into a simper much less pleasant than that of the man she’d met last week. Though it fails to feel threatening, her mouth still runs dry, now faced with the opportunity to say… anything—to ask, demand, accuse to her heart’s content—but she… she can’t, too inundated by the possibilities as her brain splutters and jolts like an empty engine.
When Y/N doesn’t answer, Harry’s mouth crooks up, pulling back to reveal a deceptively pretty smile—before he purses his lips to blow a cool stream of breath directly into Y/N’s face. Her nose crinkles as the conspicuous scent of peppermint forces its way, no doubt into her brain—to associate peppermint with him for the rest of her life—may it be long or considerably shorter after tonight. “Minty fresh,” Harry smiles around a chew, impishly delighted by Y/N’s scowl. “Wha’s the matter? Don’t like peppermint?”
Sure—yes, sure, she likes peppermint but what level of absurdity— A humourless bark of a laugh fizzles between them, Y/N unable and unwilling to ignore the fatuity of the situation. Y/N could say so much, but it seems she chooses, “I prefer bubblegum,” clearing her throat to ignore the waver in her voice.
Harry nods earnestly—as though her taste in confectionery holds the same gravity as that of an embarrassing truth or a confession of crisis—jaw flexing on its hinges, “Mm, makes sense. Little—” his arm reaches out, finger uncurling to brush a knuckle against a loose strand of her hair, “bubblegum princess,” and Y/N wonders if he might be a little insane, body tight as the distance between them lessens. Distance that could only be described as valuable in such a situation, with such a person.
It strikes Y/N now, the difference in his temperament—gone is the charm of a man brimming with polite conversation to show his gratitude towards her—in his place stands the one who spewed filth inside the confines of her sedan. Shameless, smug, awash with a handful of complexes, she’s now sure.
Despite the blast of fresh air and biting peppermint encouraging sobriety, dregs of intoxication still prevalently linger in Y/N’s bloodstream. That boost of liquid courage she needs to say what she does, to be reminded of that vehement anger, and to ignore the pounding of her heart—the way it begs and pleads with her to go back inside—as her foot takes her a step forward. Her voice drops to a whisper as she tilts her head up, now intimately close, “Do you still think my eyes are pretty?”
And Harry laughs—the sound forced from his lungs as he fails to conceal amusement. “Christ, no shame…” he pauses, eyes darting back and forth between Y/N’s falsely confident ones, “‘f course I do, I meant everything I said... Everything.”
It’s those words that drive home the reality of the situation; a clear confession, a clear joy to remember—“I was going to kill you that night. Thought about draining the life from those pretty eyes the second you rolled your window down.”
Y/N’s tether to sanity unravels, hanging on by a mere thread as she throws her hands in front of her wildly. “I let you inside my fucking car!” The fury finally weaponised, despite the whiny defiance of her tone, that is only further fuelled by Harry’s wry smile, growing and growing. It sets something alight in Y/N; the defeating realisation of a true psychopath before her. Nothing she could say would allow sympathy to seep into his bones. 
Not that she demanded sympathy. What good would an apology do? An apology for what… scaring her? Disturbing her so deeply to her core that life felt bathed—drowned—in danger? The only real, tangible thing Harry had done to her was have sex with her and that— That was nothing to apologise for, no matter the embarrassment to admit as such.
So why… bother… Why bother to fight when he smells so inviting and the warmth of his body yearns to take the chill off of hers?
Harry dips down—peppermint again, mixed with the same pleasant cologne from the night he tainted her backseats, that had blotted itself in her memory unknowingly—eyes boring into her own. “You did more than that, pet,” an effort to get the words out without scoffing, “You let me fuck you inside your car. Begged me—”
She shoves demurely at his chest, coils of heat tightening at the memory, causing only the slightest of stumbles as Harry grips her hand to his chest and tugs her with him “—pleaded me—for it, in fact.” His breath fans across her face; close enough to still be warm and pebble her cheeks with goosebumps. Her lashes flutter innocuously—the perfect picture of doe-eyed and yet she has no intention behind it.
Y/N’s face is warm with the alcohol coursing underneath her skin and the tingling of Harry’s air dusted across it, that jacket of heat the only thing bracing her against the whipping breeze against her bare legs. Naturally, if it wasn’t for the existence of Harry, Y/N would feel perfectly content right now. Tipsy but not detrimentally so—surfing along the wave of intoxication with only an occasional plunge beneath the bracing waters. She feels good like this, most of the time. She feels confident, and sexy, and free of all of life’s burdens.
But now one of life’s more recent burdens is standing in front of her, simmering smile surely on the verge of snapping. Y/N wonders what she might do in order to make that happen—so be it, if that puts herself at risk. There's no such thing as risk when you’re a drink or two down. The anger feels subdued, the fear feels subdued—something in the back of her mind convincing Y/N of some faux sense of safety—however real or fake it may be.
“Didn’t you?” Harry nudges, sly fingertips catching her off guard as they tap sequentially against the curve of her waist, gently—subtly—manoeuvring Y/N’s body to rest against the harsh stone. She hardly realises she’s moving, too honed in on the whispering taunt of Harry’s voice.
Yes. She did.
But she doesn’t care to focus on that anymore—she doesn’t care to play the regretful part. Y/N has moved onto bigger and better things. She tilts her chin up, defiant in nature, as her tone takes on that of a snarky assertion, “How—how were you g’na do it? Tell me.” 
It doesn’t seem as though Harry needs a reminder; he knows what she’s referring to. He knows and he shows zero interest in humouring it—her perverse request. Tapping fingers trail their way up, up, up until they’re cradling her collarbones, vast palm spread out across her chest. 
He plays gentle, unknowing, as he shushes her, “It doesn’t matter…” he murmurs, hand slipping higher still until his long fingers can curl and wrap around her throat, the first indication of the whiskey having its desired effect clear when his eyelids flutter and syllables threaten to merge.
He doesn’t squeeze and it’s disturbingly unforeseen—the hold in which he keeps her in without pressure. But it’s not enough, and Y/N’s not satisfied with such an answer. No matter the desperation to surge forward and kiss him messily, or the eagerness to find out whether he’ll explore her mouth again or degrade her for his pleasure, Y/N doesn’t budge.
“Tell me,” she insists, voice teetering on the edge of too loud in the soulless alleyway. Her fist comes up in a weak thud against his chest, unable to display any other sort of physicality. “How were you gonna kill me, Harry—?” Her breath catches as he digs his fingers into the side of her throat—finally satisfied to see the edge of that smirk wiped off of his face. Piercing green holds her in place, sneer dominating her vision.
“Shut up—”
“When you were cumming inside me—?” 
“—Shut the fuck up.”
Y/N wheezes when he squeezes even harder, mouth dropping open in a masochistic smile—eyes half-lidded as the blood fights its way to her brain. The warmth of Harry’s palm against the column of her neck presses just as hard, taunting and tormenting her airways—daring her to breathe.
“What—did you—” a second of respite in which he loosens his grip, as Y/N inhales as much as her little lungs can take, “do to that—woman?”
He scoffs at her—almost annoyed that she would care enough to ask—that he even has to waste his energy thinking about it. “I didn’t fuck her if that’s what you’re worried about,” serrated ice in his tone, freezing over when he spits out, “sweetheart.” No attempt at denial, no reassurance of his innocence—just. I didn’t fuck her.
It comes barrelling out; the provocation, “Had to get your fix somewhere else, then,” Y/N accuses, swallowing underneath the weight of his hand. “Didn’t kill me so you had to hurt poor Ruby Wilcox, didn’t you?”
“—Don’t play detective, pet,” he expertly deflects, squeezing harder—disguising any sort of discomfort with the quirk of his lips, “it doesn’t suit you. Much preferred it when you were dumb around my fingers, barking f’me like a good girl. D’you remember that?”
Very well. Too well. Even still after learning the truth, Y/N had remembered it in great detail. “Why didn’t you kill me?” she whispers, numb now to the pads of his digits and the way they demand bruising against the delicate skin of her neck. Pointed indentations to aggravate with her own pressing fingers (assuming she lives long enough for them to form).
“Maybe I just wanted another taste,” Harry admits, eyes clear—surprisingly sincere despite the vulnerability of such a claim. “Maybe I wanted to hear about more of your bad dates—”
“—It wasn’t a date—”
“Maybe…” and Y/N starts to doubt that earnest expression, “maybe I got off on the idea of ruining something—of leaving this kind, sweet, generous girl… with something real to cry about.”
Something real? Something real?
“Why me?” She’s not kidding herself; there’s nothing special or unique that might have altered years and years of Harry’s personal psychology—but maybe, just maybe—Y/N might be given something to help her sleep a little better at night. A reason; valid or not, just something to roll around in the palm of her hands until she could make sense of it.
She’s granted no such thing.
“You stopped the car, Y/N,” he drawls in such a casual tone, sounding the same as the man who had told her his name, debated the importance of the rules of Uno, and breathed a sincere wish that she got home safe. “You let me in. I had nothing to do with it,” Harry promises. But it’s not a friendly promise, nor a reassuring one. It’s an assertion that leaves no room for interpretation, a cold, hard fact that can never be dissected. And unfortunately for Y/N, the fact of the matter remains that this is all her fault.
Cold fingers curl into the front of his hoodie, material scrunching between her digits. Harry tuts, “Hands off,” but Y/N only grips him tighter—knuckles tensing as she urges him closer towards her body by the baggy fabric. (When she’s sober she might berate herself for pushing him the wrong way.)
It’s discernible; Harry’s distaste—eyes sharpening as they slice into her own. He takes matters into his own hands, forcibly removing hers from his front and squeezing the delicate bones of her wrists as he presses them, less than gently, into the harsh bricks.
“Not so obedient today, are we?” Their hips dare to meet, twitches and nudges teasing the inevitable. Y/N can’t disguise the way she bucks a little, thin dress waiting to be bunched and moulded by bigger hands. She knows what he feels like—and it’s impossible not to yearn for it.
Her words are airy—breathless from no exertion—heartbeat drumming in her chest with anticipation. “I assumed you…liked a struggle.”
“I do,” Harry hums, a smile edging back onto his face, as he dips down enough for his breath to kiss her ear, “...but where’s my easy little stray gone?” he pouts, leaning back to tilt his head in a way that suggests simple curiosity. “Girl I met two weeks ago was already open wide f’me by now… Wanna show me your tongue again, pet?”
And it’s juvenile—but Y/N isn’t sober and neither is Harry—when she sticks it out in a way similar to that of a snotty toddler as opposed to the languid reveal she gave him in her car. She pokes it out and scrunches her nose, almost amusing herself in the process. In what is a ridiculous display of immaturity that far from pleases Harry.
He grunts, “Yeah, that’s funny,” patting the side of her face. Hard. Not a slap but something that makes her cheek tingle and her jaw loosen. Even more so when Harry’s fingers squeeze either side and manhandle her face left and right—moving her as he pleases and reveling in the dipping of her eyebrows and the rounding of her eyes. It’s pathetic, really, how quickly she can be reduced to insignificance with just a little pawing.
But he underestimates her ever so slightly. She’s not quite finished it seems, when—through the mush of her mouth—she gurgles, “Are y’gonna kill me this time?”
The amusement that dances so often in Harry’s eyes fizzles out once more. “Shut up, Y/N,” he shoves closer, the blushing tip of his nose daring to brush against her bridge. “Don’t make me say it again.”
She practically preens, rocking up onto the tips of her toes, forcing their chill-bitten skin to brush. “Or what? You’ll make me?” The question floats between them like a perilous snowflake, not for long enough before she jeers, “How you g’na do it? You’ll finally get to watch th—”
Harry’s had enough of her voice, surging forward, desperately capturing the end of Y/N’s exhalation and coalescing it with his own. It’s rough, and it’s dirty—his fingers still controlling every purse of Y/N’s lips—hips finally clashing in a grinding of bones. He lets go of her face, encompassing hands tugging through her hair as he holds the back of her head. The only gesture of comfort he grants her away from the wall; not for long before those same fingers roam and dishevel—nails pinching just on the side of too hard.
Every subconscious twitch of her own fingers has Harry alert—any attempt of Y/N’s made to touch him in exchange meets her swift return of each wrist pinned to either side of her head—knuckles brushing sharp bumps of brick. A small noise seeps out of her mouth and into his own, vibrating against his lips and reducing Harry to a deep, acknowledging sigh.
They’re uncoordinated; desperation dominating precision and finesse. Laboured exhalations blanket their cheeks, noses squished and lips swollen. Harry’s hands float back up to her face, pressing coolly against the sides, spanning the entirety as his thumbs bracket their mouths. He holds her like he wants to consume her—crawl inside her skin, swallow her down—tongue boldly stroking against her own in contrastingly lazy flicks. A dizzying enmeshment of fast and slow, hard and soft.
Y/N’s neck aches from the angle in which she’s forced to meet Harry’s mouth, strong palms nearly pulling her off of her toes as he cups her cheeks with almost too much chivalry, too much romance. It would be all too easy to forget his confession, encompassed in his warmth, his scent—too easy to pretend it didn’t matter.
She sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, pulling back as they clamp and opening her eyes just enough to watch the flesh snap back into place. There’s no time to smile with sadistic glee before Y/N’s head is yanked back by the roots of her hair, slender fingers wrapped in tendrils and tugging. Hard. A gasp is ripped from the back of her throat, cold and sharp against her tonsils. And Harry gets to experience the twitch of his lips and the amusement of winning as Y/N’s back bends to accommodate the sudden stretch of her neck. 
He peers down at her parted lips, the slight tension in her brows from the strain, and her heavy arms that slowly droop down against the wall. Small clouds of mist pass between them—the cold air kissing their recycled breaths—soaking in the chill the longer they stay outdoors. The stray street light bounces off of one side of Harry's back, casting a glowing outline around his body as he blocks Y/N in against the wall. The irony of such an image. She shuffles her feet atop the gravel, aching from lack of movement—twitching when a thick thigh nudges its way between her own—soft sweatpants stroking her naked skin.
“Bite me again, sweetheart…” Harry taunts, voice scarily steady, “see what happens.”
A choked laugh escapes from Y/N’s chest, forced through her open mouth. A delightful invitation. She pushes as far up on her toes as she can manage, pulling against the force of Harry’s hand—reaching as far as his chin before she eases the tension. He smirks down at her, wandering fingers teasing the hem of her dress as his thigh warms between hers.
“Pity I don’t get to rip another pair of little tights,” he tuts, trailing a digit up the inside of her knee. “Trying to make the old men happy tonight, were we?” tugging at the material, tight against the tops of her thighs. “Hoping one of them might take you to the bathroom and let you call him Daddy.” He tuts again, “How sad.”
“Would you have?” she pouts, eyes bright with mirth. “Let me call you Daddy?”
“Would I have let you? Would I have given you permission? I don’t think so, pet.” He squishes her cheeks together again—demeaning, degrading—leaning back down to ghost his mouth across her puckered lips. “I don’t think you deserve to call me anything at all.”
Her lungs are tight; desperate for more than just a shallow inhale through her nose, borrowed from another. He’d slowly, ever so slowly, meshed their mouths together once more—stopping her from replying with anything other than a scalding kiss, tongues overlapping in an erotic embrace.
But Y/N finds herself impatient—and Y/N falls short in the realm of manners, greedy hands sneaking down when she gets the chance—palming at the thick outline through Harry’s sweatpants.
“Ah—ah, hands off,” he echoes, fingers tugging at her scalp again, forcibly expelling the breath from her lungs. “Ask nicely. I know you know better than that.”
“I do,” she pants, lips tingling with the imprint of Harry’s own. “I don’t think psychos…deserve nicely.” A dangerous blow. One he doesn’t take lightly—one that makes Y/N think she’s hit a nerve when he grits out his next command, jaw tight and eyes stormy.
“Turn around. You’re pissing me off,” not granting her the option to do so herself before his spanning hands are forcing her waist in a squirming prod until her front meets the wall. She wants to push back but Harry is consuming all the space behind her, chest expanding against her shoulder blades. The heat against her ass is dizzying, tunnelling all of her thoughts to places dissolute.
Harry spits his next words, anger palpable, “Fuckin’ brat,” pulling her against his crotch by the small of her waist. Y/N gasps, ears momentarily filled with nothing but white noise. “I let you go and the universe brought us back together, isn’t that something?” A pause; clearly waiting for her snarky response but he gets nothing. She’s too overtaken by the buzzing between her thighs. “I thought so,” he sighs, “but you’re being such a little bitch tonight.”
A pathetic whine crawls its way out of her downturned lips, wisping between them like a sad trail of smoke. Her head feels thick, like she wants to let it fall back and rest upon Harry’s shoulder. What was she annoyed about again? It feels futile. 
The harsh emphasis of ‘bitch’ echoes in her ears about five beats after he’s gritted it out. And it burns deep within her abdomen, a searing coalescence of shame and arousal. “...Not a bitch,” she mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as her hands brace against the wall—willing herself to stay upright; to focus on anything but the heavy bump against her backside. But it is futile, because the insult doesn’t land the way it’s supposed to—it doesn’t upset or offend—and that’s when it becomes clear to Harry that the wall is crumbling. That his charm remains absolute.
“Oh, baby,” he coos, voice lathering her skin like thick globules of honey, “still so easy,” lips kissing the shell of her ear as his breath seeps into her hair, coating and warming. “My little bitch, how about that? Do you like the sound of that?”
She wants to shake her head but it’s too heavy, clogged with the fog of Harry’s voice—every nerve tingling as he glides his palms over her hips and down… across her pelvis and curling around the edge of her dress, teasing it, bunching it up just enough to dance his digits over her mound. Y/N’s hips twitch in anticipation, giving away what her words don’t say.
“Y’want my fingers…” an electrifying brush over her clothed clit, “here?” She exhales a shaky breath, trying to push back into him—it’s the only thing she can do, with her fingernails threatening to dig into stone and her forehead sure to come away with its imprint. Her heartbeat throbs between her thighs and a swallowed whimper seeps out of her mouth. “Got to hear you say it, pet. Say you want me to play with your hot, little cunt.”
“Mhm,” is all Y/N can manage, hoping—praying—that for once it might be good enough.
It’s not.
“Mhm,” Harry echoes, the pressure on her clit disappearing and the bulge nudging against her ass harder. Y/N pushes back—Harry pushes forward. A cant of his hips and a teasing reveal of more and more of her skin, the skirt of her dress manipulated high enough to brush across the small of her back and reveal the breadth of her underwear; less salacious than the purple thong Harry had admired previously. A soft white cotton and frilly pink decorating the hem.
“These are sweet, pet,” he mumbles. But it doesn’t fill her chest with warmth; it fills her with trepidation—waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Harry to tear them or rip them, defile them or taint them. But he never does. He doesn’t do anything aside from stroke his thumb across the hem of her panties, up and along the seam. Y/N exhales, trying to sway her hips in order to sway him but it seems he needs no persuasion.
“I’m waiting,” he scorns—much to Y/N’s distaste. Because waiting is not a luxury that either of them can afford right now. Time… Privacy… Two valuable assets that are not provided by the dimly lit alleyways between dingy bars and the rest of the population. The steel door barely a metre beside Y/N could swing open at any point—revealing a disgruntled worker tired after a long shift—or an impatient pedestrian could decide to try their luck exploring a shortcut and happen upon their preoccupied bodies. And surely there must be a view from a window somewhere, anywhere.
So Y/N says what she knows he wants to hear. “Please,” a whisper—unpossessing of the desperation Harry often desires. But she’s not finished. “Please. Please play with my— my…” his fingers drag down across the gusset, prodding at her fluttering hole through the thin material that’s far from dry. A motivating caress that wobbles Y/N’s voice, “—M-my hot, little cunt.”
Shame bathes in her skin, cheeks blooming with an imprudent heat. But Harry laughs at her compliance, no matter how pathetic or meek. He thuds the width of his fingers over her clit suddenly, Y/N’s knees buckling with the unforeseen impact but Harry grips onto her waist, holding her against the warm wall of his body as his fingers push at her underwear. 
The wetness is embarrassing, thick and glossy through the cotton. Harry seems to take pride in it, spending too long nudging his fingers over the slick at her hole instead of focusing where they both know Y/N wants. And then a slip to the side, fingertips prodding at the flimsy hem—manoeuvring it over and out of the way, just enough for the shame to coat his skin.
They’re cold against the radiating heat from between her thighs, pulsing and rolling in waves throughout her insides. A jolt; a twitch, the width of Harry’s chest against her back.
“Hold them—fuck, you’re sopping—hold them f’me,” he instructs, Y/N’s shaking fingers obliging before they even know what for, slinking down the front of her body and shucking the gusset of her panties aside enough for Harry’s liking, “Y’always get this wet or is it just f’me?”
And Harry must know the answer—well acquainted with her pussy once before—asking the questions he knows will satisfy him most. “Jus’ you.” A pathetic admission—even more so when Y/N realises it’s not even a lie.
She’s never been more sure of something. Not by her own hand, not by another cock; never has she been so ruined. “No wonder everyone you fuck bores you.” 
Yeah… she had insinuated that—she’d yearned for it to hurt, for it to be interesting—inadvertently matching Harry’s sick sense of pleasure. Because here she was, wetting his fingers—the same fingers he’d taken so much away with—and yet they felt so good.
“You need a bit of danger, baby?” Harry cups over her tightly. “Yeah?”
“—Mhm—”
He smiles, leaning forward into the back of her hair. “Need to pick strange men off of the side of the road? Need to fuck them in alleyways?” His palm grinds along her clit in slow, torturous circles, the tips of his fingers daring to dip inside of her but never breaching. “You gonna let me fuck you, pet? Gonna squeeze that cunt over me again like a good—” he retracts slightly, heavy hand slapping over her pussy and rendering Y/N immobilised, “—fucking—girl?” Each smack jolts her body, knees buckling, crumpled mouth whimpering.
“Ye-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, please,” her tone borders on watery, thick with overwhelming urgency—coaxing him to warm his fingers inside of her—pleading with her grabbing hand as it reaches behind her and palms at the front of his sweats. And he’s told her no once… twice before already… so it’s only fair that he slaps down on her again. Harder. Louder. The sound of Y/N’s cry echoing out, just teetering over the edge of too pitchy. He doesn’t bother to smother it.
He’s terse, words forced through the gaps of his teeth as he grits, “Stop fucking touching me. Just…” he sighs, warm breath tickling the shell of her ear, “Jus’ be a… good… little hole, yeah?”
Yeah. Yeah. She can do that, she can— “Okay,” the breath trails out of her lips, wispy and frail, body tightening up when she feels… feels his middle finger circling the outside of her cunt—silently pleading for his touch—“O-okay,” she mewls again, dumbstruck as he pushes in—up to the first knuckle, and then the second, and the third.
“There you go,” it’s gentle, almost nurturing; far too soft for the stolen secrecy of an alleyway. Y/N keens, knuckles tightening around the gusset she’s still holding onto for dear life—empty hand flying down to cover Harry’s own. Delicacy coalescing with rigidity. She begs for his finger to sink deeper, to curl and to soothe—to be cajoled by another—to carve its path inside of her.
Harry wiggles it tauntingly, chest puffing out with a frustrated exhalation. “Give me your hand—come on—” he’s rough as he twists it behind her back, away from his skin and exposed to the cold air, “keep it there, stop—bothering me.” She’s not even rewarded with his bruising grasp around her wrist, just the aching chore of correcting each slip down her back as her arm tires.
His ring finger squeezes beside his middle, tip teasing Y/N’s achy hole, soft pads pressing into the spongy front of her walls. He scissors his fingers inside of her slowly, rubbing with virility as the backs of his index and pinky slap into the plush flesh either side of her wet cunt. And then he gets faster, grunting senselessly through every twitch and clench of her pussy. He finds that spot—and then he abuses it—Y/N unable to support her own weight when her knees start buckling and her tired bicep suffers behind her back.
“Can’t handle it, pet?” the cadence of his tone matches each punch of his fingers inside of her—the pit in Y/N’s stomach edged and taunted with every curl against her gummy walls. “S’it too good? Got you shaking all over th’place with just m’fingers.”
She thinks she garbles something unintelligent but it’s impossible to be sure when all the blood is rushing between her legs.
Harry murmurs, lips catching the shell of her ear, “I think you’re a little slut, baby,” biting down on her lobe with contrasting care. “Letting me ruin you in a dirty alleyway… Outside where anyone could see you—see your drippy pussy soaking m’hand.”
“Yes,” a sigh slips—agreeing to nothing in particular—an expression of pleasure, a plea for more.
A dark laugh stretches taut between them, powerful as his fingers speed up, palm slapping against her clit with each thrust. It vibrates and buzzes, twitches and pulsates. “You’re g’na cum for me, pet. Right now.”
It’s a simple demand. One that manhandles Y/N to the very edge—it dangles her over as the drop below taunts her. It beckons her like a siren call. Harry nudges her spot again, and again, and again—coaxing it, consoling it. Every curl of his fingers, every thud of his palm. It fills her up, breath catching, head falling back on her neck. And then she falls, plummets, cascades down—jaw dropped in a silent cry as her cunt convulses seismically around Harry’s fingers—clamping near violently. He rubs her through it, stroking her walls in heavy thrusts as he slows and forces her to feel it all.
“There you go, good girl. Filthy girl.” His hand glistens with her slick, pulling strings away with it. Y/N mourns his fingers, his warmth when he pulls away. Her hole flutters and her body suddenly feels cold—isolated and alone.
He exhales, “Fuck—put your hands on the wall, bend over a bit—that’s it,” crouching down, perverse in the way he inspects the glistening between her thighs. At least, that’s what Y/N assumes he’s doing as he nestles in closer to her cunt, close enough for his breaths to wash over her shaking form. 
One heavy forearm pins the skirt of her dress over the rounds of her arse, his free hand coming up to spread her open with the precision of a man who has much more time than either of them currently do. Y/N doesn’t see the way her slick creates ribbons between his fingers after he nudges at her opening and pulls away to scrutinise them. She doesn’t see the way his throat bobs as he tucks his digits past his blushing lips and laves his tongue around them salaciously. She only hears the muffled hum, and the harsh breath leave his nose as the man beneath her drools around himself.
“Sweet little thing,” he pants, voice gruff—gravelly—when he finally brings his fingers back to her centre. He pets at her, thudding the thick of them against her quivering cunt unnecessarily; from a want to render her even less stable on her aching legs. “Absolutely drenched f’me, aren’t you. Does that scare you, sweetheart?”
A whimper climbs out from Y/N’s throat, delayed in her response. Answering of the wrong question—the one she would lie about if she were sober. She needs more—she needs something more… something all-consuming. 
“Fuck—fuck me—now,” she pleads, hips pushing back as her neck cranes to catch a glimpse of the man below her.
He rises to his full height. “That’s not how you ask.”
“Please. Or I’ll… I’ll—”
“You’ll what, pet?”
“—I’ll tell everyone…” she whines, trailing off when her words reach no conclusion.
“Yeah? You’ll tell everyone. You’ll go to the police?” She’s nodding mindlessly, head weighing her down. “And what will you say?” tone turning petulant and shrieky, “‘I let him defile me, officer. I let him stretch me out on his big cock, officer. I let him do whatever he wanted, officer—’”
“Please,” her voice is thick, full with a sob—and a wave of panic washes over her at the possibility of not having him at all. 
“Don’t know if you deserve it now,” drumming his fingers across the small of her back. “Threatening me, huh? Silly girl.”
No reasoning comes to mind—nothing smart or clever to wield as a rebuttal. Just a slew of pathetic sounds; only possibly attractive to someone yearning for power—someone like Harry. Her body answers for her, still desperately twitching and searching for his own and being rewarded with nothing. He stays stoic, mild palm smoothing along the expanses of her chill-bitten backside.
“Tell you what…” he starts, a sly smile morphing the sound of his voice. “You be quiet f’me, yeah? You be quiet and I’ll give you what you want. Don’t w’na hear a single fucking thing else from this bratty, little mouth, you understand?”
A trick—an attempt for her to slip up before they’ve even begun. She nods frantically, teeth clamped together, lips equally as shut. She’s ready to offer more than is wise, for him to fuck her—ready to give herself up completely just so he’ll quell that ache. The nerves of their exposition are really starting to buzz along the surface of her skin.
“There you go, not so hard, is it?” She shakes her head no, enthralled by the soft sound of skin rubbing against thick cotton, fingers slipping underneath elasticated waistbands. “Good,” Harry murmurs, so quiet that Y/N wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for her heightened senses. And then again, even softer, swallowed around a gruff exhale that she can only assume is in response to curling his fingers around himself. “Good girl.”
She feels him tug at the gusset of her panties—haphazardly skewed across her centre, unable to conform without the curl of Y/N’s prying joints keeping them astray. Harry stretches the stitches easily, forcing the fabric to adhere to his perversion, as his thumb strokes the skin adjacent to where she would really feel it.
The corner of a condom wrapper flutters to the floor out of Y/N’s periphery, landing by her achy feet, as the image of Harry tearing it with his teeth flashes behind her eyelids. He rolls it on silently—and for a moment she wishes she could see—picture the length, the girth that had scripted her deepest desires so dominantly.
He smooths his hand up, underneath her dress, shuffling in closer behind her as he nudges the head of his cock against her slick cunt. Y/N’s jaw drops open in a silent whimper—catching the noise, suffocating it in her throat before it ripples out around them. Sweat gathers in the palms of her hands, irritated against the rough brick wall when they’d much rather be buried in his hair. Her forehead dips down, willing Harry to do something… anything.
He strokes up and down her clit, smiling at every overstimulated twitch, dipping down to smear arousal. He teases her, letting the thick of his tip stretch her entrance before he pulls back. Once, twice, three times… And then he sinks in, fingertips creating divots in her hips, holding harder with each inch that he carves out inside of her. When his pelvis cushions against her ass, he sighs—a long exhale of breath—followed by a rumbling from within his chest, “Perfect little pussy.”
Y/N can’t help the little whimper that falls from her lips, brows scrunched, dipping towards the centre of her face. Either Harry has a change of heart or he doesn’t hear her—too enraptured in the feeling of every vein and ridge perfectly filling the space surrounding him; as though created just for him, his cock.
He doesn’t move, perfectly still—embedded deep inside of her convulsing pussy—feeling her out. Mentally (though physically too). Waiting and waiting, regarding her presence with a slight jerk of his hips that already press demandingly into her backside. Waiting for those words to fall off of the tip of her tongue, with a protesting or begging cadence, and redirect his little game. A game Harry doesn’t even know the rules to—the only importance serving in his right to manhandle Y/N every which way; however he may please. A single plea, or a frustrated curse… that’s all he needs.
But she holds on. She stays silent and her hands stay slipping down the bricks. Enough so to have the opposite effect; to rile Harry up, to have his digits curl tighter into her skin and pull out all the way—feel her clench around him in an effort to keep him inside—and then rock back into her. Harder. The thud of their flesh meeting rippling out around them. 
Y/N doesn’t think that’s very fair; physically forcing the sounds from her larynx—punching the air from her lungs in such a way that makes it impossible for her silence to remain. She cries out, quiet enough to suggest a desire for modesty but loud enough for Harry’s lips to curl up nefariously.
“What did I say?” His hand clamps around her mouth, fingers brushing her eyelashes if he stretches them out far enough. The grip forces Y/N’s neck to stretch, trembling body elongating as Harry straightens her out and melds her into the wall. Her forearms squish into her biceps and her chest flattens indelicately. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was trying to cast her into the bricks, grout and all.
His hips snap back into her.
“Fuck,” Harry moans wantonly—exaggerated as he amuses himself with the pleasure of her newfound silence—“that’s sexy,” teeth grazing her ear. “So much hotter with your mouth shut, you know that?” She opens it just to spite him, tongue laving over his palm. His hips slap harder against her in return, eager to manoeuvre and curl his digits along the flesh of her tongue—eliciting a harsh gag from her unprepared throat. 
It perturbs him none when she presses her teeth into his skin, clamping gently at first but losing the capacity to be anything when Harry slinks his other hand around her neck. The blood fights for its strength, struggling and forcing its way through to her brain as the periphery of Y/N’s vision darkens. There’s nothing scary about it—and if they weren’t outside she might feel a semblance of peace.
“You prefer it like this, don’t you?” Harry gruffs against the side of her face, lashes threatening to kiss over her temple. “Jus’ w’na be treated like a silly—little—slut.” His thrusts punctuate each word, short cries forcing their way between his fingers. Drool gathers in the well of his palm, shameful rivulets smearing against Y/N’s chin.
“Don’t you?”
“Mhm—Mhmn—” she garbles something thick, tongue heavy in her mouth—battling against the extra weight of Harry’s intrusive digits. She swallows around them. 
He’s everywhere—soft clothes baggy on him and swamping her frame as he swallows her up—sure that if someone were to simply glance down their alleyway she would not be seen. Heat plagues her, rolling out of her pores in thick, murky waves—the kind of heat she suddenly fears she will always be cold without. The presence against her back, the stoicity of his figure. 
Her noises topple out.
Sad, desperate, pathetic little whines—snappy with the way Harry pummels into her. No one would have to ponder for long to dissect the cause of such sounds. Flesh smacking, fabric chafing, laboured breathing.
“Yeah. Yeah. I know,” fingers tighten around her throat. “Shrieky thing, you are. Can’t stay quiet to save your life.”
The insinuation is not lost on her, no matter the delirium that she’s submerged under. And Harry relishes in it; of course he does.
He slurs, “Would you die happy? Right now? Right now, baby?”
And Y/N knows she’s deeply flawed when his words scratch a spot. When she doesn’t recoil in disgust, attempt to pull away and run—but instead melts even further into his grasp. Nodding in jerky nudges of her head. She’s not giving him permission to stop the beating of her heart but she supposes it doesn’t matter either way. 
Harry rips his hand from her mouth, trailing saliva down the front of her dress, squeezing his thick forearm between her abdomen and the wall as he searches cruelly to overstimulate her. She’s been so easy thus far, soft and pliable no matter Harry’s propensity for writhing. But when he skims over her clit, that…—that’s when she starts to struggle. To will her body away from the torturous pads of his fingers.
This only encourages her tormentor, deft digits pulling up the hood, allowing no room to hide as he applies direct pressure and tightens the barrier of his arm as her body spasms out of control. A sob rips from Y/N’s chest, loud enough to be deemed inappropriate—and no matter how much pleasure he might find in those sounds, she’s teetering on the brink of becoming dangerous. The grasp around her neck loosens, fingers slipping up to push past her lips again; the only effective method of muffling her at all. 
Y/N keens with the weight in her mouth, relishes in the way her lips have to wrap around his big, masculine fingers. “Fucking tight, pet,” Harry grunts, ministrations messy and uncoordinated as he rubs over her clit, bumping into his shaft with every thrust. And she is—clamping down so hard her muscles yearn to loosen. They yearn to melt into a softness, into a safety, into a slumber. But her brain is running away, and Harry’s not slowing down, the tip of his cock abusing the spot he already petted at so perfectly with his fingers. 
And he knows she’s nearly there, smiles into the crook of her neck and lets his teeth bite into her flesh for just a second.
But just as her orgasm starts to topple over the edge, he stops. He leans back, pulling her hips so her bum juts out and her back arches again.
“Come on, I’m tired, baby,” he teases, a slither of playfulness lost to the tightness in his voice, hips dragging to a still. “Long day of slaughtering.” Y/N is too far gone to find the joke inappropriate. To even register anymore that this whole affair is inappropriate. “Work for it a little,” Harry leans back, eyeing up the place in which they meet, shining in the glow of the streetlight. She’s still for too long, trying to process where his movements have gone—confused pants turning the ends of Harry’s lips.
“S’feel good?” Hands aid hips slightly—just enough to gain momentum, as Y/N fails to question why she’s suddenly the one fucking him—only chasing the return of the blissful prodding of her insides. Harry’s eyes are glued to her pussy, stretched deliciously around the thick of his cock, dragging back and forth with each nudge of her over him. The soft of her ass meets his pelvis and he delivers a squeeze in return, fingers destined to leave their presence known as he manhandles the flesh. Pulling and indenting, the other hand hanging heavily by his side as his gaze trails over Y/N’s bending body.
He deigns to let the saliva in his mouth pool in the hollow of his tongue, lips pursing as a line of drool drips down onto her puckered hole—the sudden sensation making Y/N convulse around him—twitch and gasp, stutter her hips and still for a moment. Harry thumbs over her carelessly, moving his thumb down to the stretch of her cunt around his prick; an unnecessary wetness. Somewhat possessed by the image below him, removed of all purpose except this one.
“Did I tell you to stop?”
Y/N shakes her head, a squeak ripped from her throat when Harry’s palm comes down on her ass, the sound reverberating through the silence of the alleyway. “N-no,” she cries. No, he didn’t. He never told her to stop.
“So keep fucking moving, sweetheart.” She nods mindlessly, head shaking up and down as her hips pick back up—thighs burning quicker with the exertion of it all. Her forehead scrapes against the wall, eyes squeezing shut with concentration as she focuses on the in and out, back and forth—every stretch against her walls dizzying—every nudge inside of her rendering more and more of her body to jelly.
She wants that feeling back; the one where she’s constantly on the verge of cumming. But there’s too much to focus on—her hands digging into the bricks, her thighs shaking, her clit untouched and overstimulated at the same time.
“I don’t have all fucking day—” Y/N would scoff if she could but the frustration spikes, “—come on. Fuck’s sake—”
Harry loses his patience, pulling out completely in a jarring sequence of motion, leaving Y/N panting—struggling to stay afloat if she were treading water. He physically turns her around and hoists her up as though she is made of nothing—slinging her thighs around the bumps of his hips.
And this is the first time she’s seen his face in… a while. The first time since he’d started dismantling her with his fingers, his cock. Y/N’s heart jumps, the stoicity in which he displays; unsettling and erotic simultaneously. She lifts her heavy hands, moving with the weight of a thousand tonnes, but Harry is quick to catch them. He yanks them overhead, grazing the stone, incarcerated within the circumference of his hand.
It hurts. The wall scratches up the delicate skin of her back, through the flimsy material of her dress. It hurts but it’s grounding—Y/N only thinks about the way her flesh will serve as a reminder of Harry, of this bar, and of this alleyway.
“Gonna make me do everything myself, hm?” gripping around his shaft, painting it across her slit with a harshness that makes Y/N shudder. He’s disrespectful, sliding in indelicately, rough palm yanking down the front of her chest to smooth over her neglected tits, squeezing and moulding between his fingers.
Y/N’s already there, she’s sure. The pit at the bottom of her stomach tightening, her eyes clenching shut, head falling back unceremoniously despite the view she has below her. Harry’s grunting, low, gravelly sounds that enmesh with her own whimpery exhalations.
“Fucking look at me—look at me,” pinching digits squish her cheeks together. A smirk tugs at the corners of Harry’s mouth, tongue darting out to wet his lips when Y/N stares at them. “Let me see that pretty, slutty face.” Her brows quirk when he rocks in particularly deep, eyes flitting around—unsure of what to look at first. Harry’s own face is flushed; perhaps the only indicator he can even feel her at all. That and the size of his pupils—the shortness of his breaths as they wash across her face.
She holds his gaze, mouth ajar with soundless cries.
“You’ll always be my filthy—plaything,” pressing in so close their noses touch. “Even after I’m… long gone—and… you’ve got some other man’s cock inside you,” his breathing shallows, “you’ll always have been mine.” Y/N doesn’t doubt him, she doesn’t even try. Not when he punctuates every word with a thrust so deep it lingers and blossoms inside of her, spreading through each limb and tingling in her fingertips.
Harry’s hand manhandles her face from side to side, grip immovable.
“When you go running back to—Cody… and he can’t fuck you properly… and all you’ll wish for is me—but you’ll hate yourself for it, won’t you, pet?” He pouts, eyes rounding out in a faux sense of sympathy. “For wanting a cold-blooded killer to make you feel good.” 
He hammers the final nail into the coffin, lips brushing her own in a sadistic contradiction, voice only a whisper when he says, “You’ll never feel this good again.” 
Y/N sobs audibly this time, cunt clenching from his words alone. She thinks he could talk her over the finish line entirely. The promise is dreadful, and it weighs heavy despite how perfectly it nuzzles against her sweet spot. But then he drops her cheeks and snakes those same fingers down, circling easily over her swollen clit. She convulses, weak wrists tugging against the constraints of his hand.
Harry’s close, desperate now to reach his peak. He sinks his teeth into her bottom lip. “Go on. Cum. Cum on your stranger’s cock.”
It’s a wonder Y/N doesn’t crumple to the floor as she cums—but somehow her thighs stay gripped around Harry’s hips. If anything they tighten, squeezing up to his waist, yearning to crush him between her as he pushes her over the edge again and joins her himself as he releases rope after rope into the condom, hips rocking all the way through. He’s moaning a slew of real pretty noises, and Y/N can’t help but pulse at every single one—orgasm begging to last forever—forcing her eyes open no matter the struggle, so that she can really see what he looks like.
It’s devastating—when he smiles. Pleasure written all over his face as his thrusts slow down, cock still dragging through her but no longer with a purpose. And Y/N finds it disorienting; the happiness in which she could be convinced he is feeling. As if it were all a joke—some twisted roleplay—that they were simply playing a fun, little sex game, of all things.
He pats her hip when he slides out, too gentle for Y/N’s post-orgasmic haze. She’s tired now. Too tired to be out at a bar, alone. 
Harry encourages her legs from around his waist. “That’s it, down you get, good girl.” Her legs wobble as her feet meet the ground, the centre of her thighs vibrating and pulsating. She only somewhat sees him tying the condom and tucking it back into the wrapper.
“Do you need some help getting home?” Y/N feels like crying. Of course she does. But not from him, never from him—that would be even sillier than letting him fuck her. And then fuck her again.
“N-no,” her voice dry and scratchy.
He’s not convinced but he doesn’t ask again. He simply crouches down and searches for the hem of her underwear under her dress. Y/N thinks he might fix the gusset back over the mess of her pussy but he doesn’t. No, he wiggles them down her thighs and lifts up each shaky leg to retrieve the fabric and twirl it around a slender finger.
“Let me have these, yeah, pet? A little trophy, hm?” Something screams from within Y/N to be scared. But she’s tired now. “It’s only fair… don’t y’think?—if I can’t have what I truly want.” She wishes to wonder why he can’t, but the thought doesn’t form fully. Perhaps he’ll kill her now, after all. She’s fulfilled her brief, performed her duties.
But he’s already taking a few steps back; a distance that feels gargantuan in her current state. She blinks, and then blinks again, mindless fingers fixing clothes and brushing hair from her face. The cold suddenly hits her like a freight train, bare legs littered in goosebumps.
Harry sighs, like he’s considering something in his head before shucking his hoodie from his body and letting it hang between them. An offer. “Keep it warm f’me,” he murmurs, eyes insistent. She takes it with a shaky hand, and hurries to drown herself in his second-hand heat. 
He’s already beginning to walk away by the time her head emerges from the fabric, eyes flitting in a panic as they focus back on his shrinking frame. Y/N is offered one final glimpse when he angles his head back to see her, a small smile upturning his mouth. His words fill no hole, quell no worries, heal no wounds. They add insult to injury, smirk morphing his tone.
“Why don’t you… go back inside, yeah? Have another drink for me.”
Y/N’s feet feel stuck—glued to the gravel, too scared to take her eyes off of him for even a moment. But he nods his head towards the door, silently repeating his assertion. “Go on.”
Slowly, she heads back into the bar, the heavy door squealing on its rusty hinges. She sits back down on her previously claimed stool.
She waits. 
The stranger never follows her inside. Y/N never notes his silhouette in her peripherals on the other end of the bar, yellow-polished fingertips stroking over a rocks glass as the two pretend not to know one another.
He never comes in and… maybe it’s for the better. 
Y/N never sees him again.
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imasinnerimsorry · 9 months
Text
The Break-In
Harry was on a business trip with a couple of co-workers, leaving his girlfriend all alone at her house. She begins to notice strange things going on around her until suddenly, everything becomes more intense.
SMUT; Kinks included: Gangbang (4 people), deep penetration, Daddy/Sir/Mister kinks, Squirting, Deepthroating, Dildos, Gaping, Anal, Oral, Creampies
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The house was quiet. Too quiet. But there was Rani, filling the noise of the bathroom with some 2000s R&B music and humming along to Mary J. Blige as she finished her nighttime routine. She had a whole process: tie her hair into a bun and put a headband around her hairline so that her hair wouldn’t get in the way, remove her makeup if she had any on, wash her face, apply her moisturizer and essential oils, put on a face mask if she felt like it, put her bonnet on, and brush her teeth. She did this every night- same old thing on a different day.
But, tonight was different. Something about the air was off. It was almost as if someone was watching her…
She shrugged off that feeling, though, not wanting to get super paranoid before she went to bed. Anytime she had a worrying thought or even watched a scary movie before bed, she would always have nightmares. She didn’t have time for that because she had a date with her boyfriend tomorrow.
Her boyfriend, Harry, was such a great man. He was attentive to her every need. If Rani called him at 3 AM to cuddle, she’d hear a knock on her door at 3:15 with him being there behind it with a smile and loving eyes. He was attentive to her every need, want, and desire, whether it be at social events, in the comfort of their own home, or in the bedroom. Harry was just amazing. Her best boyfriend of all time.
Speaking of Rani’s every desire, she had a bucket list of every thing she wanted to do before she died. Everything thrilling like jumping out of a plane to everything kinky like having anal sex.  No one knew about this list or the contents of it. No one except Harry. He made a mental note of every single detail, from traveling to the Philippines to trying out a threesome. And he wanted to make sure she could check off aspects of that list by any means necessary.
But Harry was on a business trip with some of his favorite co-workers this weekend, so he unfortunately would not be at her beck-and-call like she would’ve wanted him to. And she really did want him to. She hated being alone on cold, dark nights like these. The moon was nowhere to be seen in the night sky as she looked up out her window, and she usually depended on its light to shine through and bless her with a good night’s rest. 
As she laid into her bed, she could hear creaking coming from the house. It was a breezy night, so she didn’t suspect anything of it. She didn’t live in the most modern home anyway, so creaks and cracks were expected. She lifted the covers over her body and tried to relax, her comforter covering her entire body from the neck down as the nightgown she was wearing wasn’t enough to keep her warm. 
Then, another creaking sound, only this time followed by a deep thud. Rani jolted as the thud’s vibration pounded through her chest. It sounded like something fell… on top of her house? But what? And how? 
Then another pound followed by another and another. It was a repeated action in a rhythm, but it was traveling from one side of the roof to the next. Almost as if it was the sound of… footsteps?
I must be trippin’, she thought. No way is someone walking on top of my house. On my roof… The disbelief turned into confusion as the footsteps increased in their sound as they got closer to her. Is that a human? A raccoon? I haven’t seen raccoons here before. But, how could a human even get up here? The confusion evolved to fear as another thud was heard. What am I gonna do if it’s a human? Who could that even be? I’m alone, no weapons, no help, no protection! What the fuck could I use as a weapon? 
The footprints stopped. And one more thud shook the house. Then footprints began again. Rani put all of the pieces together. Three thuds. Three sets of footprints. All coming her direction. On top of her house. There were three people trying to break in through the roof.
Her thoughts were stopped as the window flew open. She forgot to lock it shut. Again. Harry would always remind her to. Whoops.
All she could see were three tall human figures dressed in all black hop straight into the house before she covered her whole face with her comforter and screamed. The protection (or lack thereof) of the comforter was quickly gone as it was tugged from off of her bed and thrown to the side of the room. “No! Please!” she screamed out.
Rani quickly noticed three colored masks of the three figures in the room: pink, blue, and green. Each of the figures wore black clothing with padding, however, which sealed any sort of identification of their bodies that she could take note of. But Rani made sure that she didn’t stay still for too long, she knew she had to get out of there in some way. So she slowly inched herself off the bed when she noticed the three figures huddled up in the room speaking amongst each other about their game plan, as if they were some American football players. Their voices were deep, so she could probably infer they were all men. 
The blue masked figure turned his head to face Rani as he noticed her movement. “Stay on the bed, bitch!” He grabbed a hammer that was inside of a duffel bag that he snuck in with and lifted it over his shoulder as he walked over to Rani, who was quivering with fear as she slid herself back into the position she was in before on top of her bed. Her widened eyes couldn’t stop staring at him and the weapon that he had, but the figure only chuckled as he noticed her fear. “Scared little kitten, aren’t ya?” He teased her. Rani could only nod her head and gulp. He chuckled again and walked back to the other two men, continuing their conversation.
All of their voices had a robotic sound to them, and from the looks of it, the men were wearing voice changers under their masks to hide their identities. Smart move, but Rani knew this would give her a great deal of trouble when she would report them to the cops. If she ever could report them, that is. Who knew what these men would do with her after they were done with their business?
The one with the pink balaclava walked over to the edge of Rani’s bed and just stared at her. It felt as if his eyes bore a hole into her head as he did so. Then he looked at the other two masked men behind him. “I want you two to take everything you think is valuable. Leave the bag here. I’ll handle the girl first.” He turned to face Rani again, whose eyes were still widened and legs still trembling in fright. 
The other two men went down the hallway as they followed PInk’s instructions and Pink walked up to the side of the bed. The pace of his walk was slow, heavy and intimidating, yet almost calm? It was as if he wasn’t nervous at all about what was happening or what was about to happen. He was probably the seasoned mastermind of all of this, the one who had been through this before and had always succeeded, so he probably didn’t have a care in the world about the consequences. He came to get the job done, and that was it.
He stroked his latex-gloved hand down Rani’s temple and took her bonnet off. “Gorgeoussss,” he drew out from his lips like an exhale. Rani didn’t know how to react but whimper and turn her head away. But in the corner of her eye, she noticed the man reach his hand into his pocket and retrieve a bundle of rope. He didn’t say anything as he quickly jumped on top of her body and held her down. Rani tried to squirm and fight her way out of his grasp, but to no avail. “Shhh,” he coaxed her, as if that would help to calm her down. All it did was cause her heart to beat fast against his chest as he reached himself to her left arm with some rope and managed to tie her against one of the bedposts. He did the same with her other arm, and then he shuffled himself to her legs to tie them to their respective posts. The man still sat on top of her, legs spread around her waist and looked down at Rani like she was a finished sculpture of his that he was admiring. Like she was his best work. He ran his hands down her sides, her body still covered by her nightgown but skin feeling every bit of the latex on his gloves through her fabric. 
One of the other men, Green Mask, ran back with a trash bag which Rani could assume was filled with some of her belongings. She was annoyed at her not being able to fight back, but it’s not like she had any way of doing so. She stopped straining against her confinements, and the man with the pink mask rose from his position and walked towards the green mask. Rani watched as he shuffled through her bag, looking through all of the items. When he was satisfied, he nodded his head, and walked over to the duffel bag that was brought in with them. He said, his head pretty much shoved into the bag as he searched for everything he wanted, “Take the gown off.” 
Green Mask nodded in compliance and made his way to Rani. Just as Pink did before, Green pulled something out of his pocket, only this time it was a pocketknife. Rani connected the dots.
“Uh, no, no, no, no! You are not cutting this gown!!” She screamed.
“Would you prefer it if I ripped it off?” Despite the distorted sound that the voice changer gave him, his teasing tone pierced straight through.
Rani shook her head no and watched as the man brought the knife down to her body. He used the knife to tear through her gown, but he was meticulous about it, thankfully for Rani. Did he not want to potentially hurt her? Rani took note of his precision and carefulness as he wielded the knife- maybe it would be a helpful detail to remember for the police when this whole ordeal was over if she made it out alive.
Green Mask removed the fabric from her body, his eyes immediately widening in admiration of her naked figure. Rani was too embarrassed, so she tilted her head to move from the man’s gaze. His eyes were like scanners as they observed her entire body from head to toe. His mouth hung open a bit as if he were about to drool at the sight before him. “Look at these fuckin’ tits.” He used his hands to squeeze at them and give a slight tug to her nipples. “Can’t wait to have a taste of those,” he stated, causing Rani to whimper.
Blue Mask finally rushed back into the bedroom. “I have some good shit in he-” He paused, noticing Rani now naked and tied onto the bed, Green Mask’s gloved hands playing with her breasts. “Aw man, you guys started without me?”
Green Mask seemed to roll his eyes. His voice, robotic yet clearly annoyed, commented, “Well, we weren’t gonna wait for you. You took too long, and we don’t have all night.” One of his gloved hands rubbed against Rani’s bare inner thigh as he spoke. Rani wished she could close her legs due to this invasion of privacy, but alas.
Blue Mask rolled his eyes right back. “Whatever, Jake,” he said out of annoyance, but quickly coughed as he noticed the slip of Green’s name. “Alright, so what are we doing with the girl?”
The man with the pink balaclava, still shuffling through the duffel bag and dropping items onto the ground that Rani couldn’t see because of her position, responded nonchalantly, “We’re gonna play with her. Isn’t that right, Rani?”
Rani’s body turned cold at the sound of her name. “H-how did you know my name?”
Pink Mask laughed. “How wouldn’t I know your name? Your room is just plastered with it.” He wasn’t wrong. There were photos and journals with Rani’s name all over them. She didn’t think of that. Well, she didn’t even think of her house getting broken into and robbed one day, so it was a first time for everything.
“Well, Rani, you have a beautiful fuckin’ body.” Green Mask ran one of his hands up her thigh and near her cunt. “Pretty cunt, too.”
“Yeah, and it looks like she wants to play with us as well,” Blue Mask said, and by the direction his eyes were roaming in, Rani could tell he was staring directly at her pussy. She whimpered at the men’s wandering eyes, both of them looking at her as though they were predators hungry for their prey.
Green Mask’s hand snuck in between her labia, rubbing up and down, and the wetness immediately coated his fingers. He found her clit, swollen and needy, and began to rub his fingers on it in circles. The moist friction between his hand and her pussy emitted pornographic sounds from not only the wetness of her cunt, but also her mouth as it let out breathy moans and whimpers with each rotation of his hand. Rani’s eyes were closed through the ordeal because of her embarrassment and fear, but she could feel the eyes of the green masked-man piercing through her soul like daggers. She knew she was in for a long night.
The man with the blue balaclava walked over to the other side of Rani’s bed. Her head was already faced on the side he was walking to due to her not wanting to face Green Mask as he relentlessly rubbed her pussy, and Blue Mask took this as an opportunity to undo his black pants and throw them off to some corner of the room. His bulge was peeking through his briefs, precum seeping out in a little spot of the grey fabric, and Rani’s eyes teared up even more knowing what Blue’s next move was.
But Blue Mask smirked, and all he did was inch his covered bulge up to Rani’s mouth, and her saliva immediately started to smear onto it. “Gotta give you the appetizer before the main course, right?’” He stated as he watched Rani’s eyes look up at him in confusion. “Suck through the fabric, baby.”
Rani immediately began to suck onto the man’s underwear, her lips and tongue feeling the shape and size of his cock as she did so. Despite her fast and immediate movements, Rani wasn’t optimistic at all, she just wanted to do whatever the men wanted her to do, hoping that it would help her go through this situation easily and quickly. They obviously had weapons, reminding herself internally as she thought about the hammer that was just in the hands of the man whose boxers she’s now sucking through, or the knife that stuck through the pocket of the man currently twiddling at her clit.
Green Mask stopped his circular motions on her clit and slapped her cunt a couple of times, her wetness squirting out in little splashes as he did so. Her moans from Green’s actions vibrated through Blue Mask’s underwear and went straight to his length, making the rather dull experience of her sucking through his fabric a bit more pleasurable. Green stuck two of his fingers into Rani’s hole and began to thrust in and out her, sometimes curling them to stimulate her g-spot. Rani’s muffled moans against Blue’s bulge grew louder and therefore caused the vibrations against his cock to become more intense, making him moan alongside her.
“C’mon, I need you to cum for me fast like a good girl. We don’t have all night,” He stated as he picked up the pace of his fingers’ thrusts, adding another finger sneakily to stimulate the girl’s cunt even more. Rani’s moans against Blue’s bulge became even more muffled as she shoved her own face into him. Still flooded with embarrassment, her orgasm neared and she presumed that hiding her face from the men’s view would shed some of her fears away. Instead, it egged the men on to be more rough with her, Blue Mask now holding her by the back of her head further into his bulge preventing her from breathing while Green began to curl against her G-spot even faster. Rani’s body jolted not by much because of her constraints, but just enough for her to have a dramatic reaction as she orgasmed, her pussy leaking out more of her fluids onto Green’s gloved hand.
Green Mask released himself from the grasp of her cunt and sucked on each of his fingers, getting every taste of Rani’s arousal into his mouth. He looked over to Blue, who released Rani from his crotch and watched as she tried catching her breath. “Y’wanna switch places?” He questioned him, completely dismissing Rani’s existence despite her recent orgasm.
Immediately, Blue nodded his head. He explained, “Wanna taste the mess she made. I mean, the way she got your eyes rolling back, she must taste good, yeah?” 
Green nodded a yes as he wiped his saliva off his fingers onto Rani’s stomach, as if she was some sort of towel. She whimpered at the feeling, but the men didn’t even pay her any mind, almost as if she was, as they had said before, just some toy they were playing with. “And I wanna see how she takes cock in her mouth, how deep she can take one,” he said and smirked as he swapped places with Blue, the crotch of his pants now in front of Rani’s swollen, wet lips. “You can take cock, right, love?” He slapped at her face as he noticed her expression a bit dazed from her previous actions with Blue Mask. “Huh, you can take cock? Deep in that throat?” 
Rani nodded. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, sir.” She gulped as she prepared herself physically and mentally for what the two men had in store for her next.
Green’s fingers then tugged at his pants’ zipper until it was fully unzipped, and he threw his pants and briefs in the same place Blue threw his. “Sir, hmm…” his lips turned into a smirk as he placed his tip onto her lips, his precum staining them, “I like that. Don’t you boys like the sound of that?”
Pink Mask chuckled from where he was, his eyes fully immersed in what was happening before him. His pants were down, Rani noticed, and his hand was wrapped around his cock. He must’ve finished going through the bag while the other men were hypnotizing her from both ends, she inferred. “Sir sounds lovely. Suits you well. I’m more of a ‘Daddy’ kind of guy. Hey,” he gestured over to Blue Mask, who was on his knees taking in the sight of Rani’s cunt before him, “What name do you want her to call you?” He handed a device over to Blue Mask, who smirked as he grasped the long object. Rani recognized it quickly- it was a Hitachi wand.
In the midst of thinking about his answer, he began slowly rubbing at Rani’s clit and gave her labia a little kitten lick. “Mm, how about Master?” He looked up at Rani, but his eyes widened as he recalled Rani’s skin color. “Uh, actually no, not Master. I’m not into the raceplay shit. Sorry ‘bout that.” He gave Rani’s clit a kiss and a lick, turning the wand on, before speaking again. “I guess Mister is better, right? Y’wanna call me Mister, babe?”
Rani was about to say yes, but ended up only nodding with a muffled moan coming from her mouth as Green Mask shoved his cock into it. Her eyes flooded with tears and flowed down her cheeks as he fucked her throat, his tip hitting so far back that she knew it would ache when he was done. Blue Mask took this as an opportunity to nudge the wand against his clit, causing Rani’s body to jolt again and throat to gag against Green’s cock.
Pink Mask went up to Rani and occupied himself by messing with her breasts. His thumb and index finger of both hands started to twist and pull at her nipples. The sounds she was making around Green’s cock encouraged him to continue with his own movements, slapping each breast after every pull of her nipple. He then settled on using one hand to play with her boobs as the other slipped around his cock and began to jerk himself off. With every sound that emitted from Rani, whether it was the sound of her throat being used, or the sounds of Blue Mask’s tongue lapping at her cunt, his cock slipped out more precum that allowed the movements of his hand to be slicker, and his head threw back at his pleasure.
Green’s cock continued to fuck into Rani’s mouth, his hands on each side of her head guiding her up and down his shaft as if her mouth was a fleshlight. The sound of his cock making her gag as he went in and out of the top of her esophagus made him moan. “You hear all those fuckin’ sounds?” He let out a laugh that forced his abdomen to move and make his cock vibrate inside of Rani’s throat. “The gawk-gawk-gawk?,” he mimicked the noises coming out of her throat as he continued his movements.
Blue Mask laughed as he continued licking Rani’s pussy, those vibrations traveling inside of her as well. “That’s what they call that ‘Gawk-gawk 3000’, right? That’s what you got honey,” he started to vigorously rub at her clit to emphasize his statements, “You got a Gawk-gawk 3000!” He slapped at her cunt a couple of times before placing his face back to her hole and thrusting his tongue in and out of her. The wand on her clit began to rub in circles, maximizing the pleasure she received from it all around.
Pink Mask continued to play with Rani’s tits with one hand as he watched the scene in front of him. He didn’t know which hole to look at- her mouth or her pussy- as he continued to jerk himself off with his other hand. It was all so overwhelming.
“Fuck,” Green moaned out, “Lick my ballsack, too.” He positioned himself to allow Rani easier access to his balls, and she began to lick and suck at them before heading back to his shaft, repeatedly moving between both parts of his body. She heard his moans, distorted yet beautiful, and it indirectly encouraged her to suck at him with more effort. “Fuck, shit,” he moaned out as the pleasure increased, but he suddenly began furrowing his eyebrows in frustration. “F-Fuck off me, bitch.” He slapped Rani’s face with enough impact to make her flinch off of his dick, causing her to cough and snort some mucus that was about to drip from her nose due to her crying. “I was about to cum inside your mouth,” he said as some sort of justification for stopping. “We wouldn’t wanna end the fun so fast, huh?” 
Rani moaned, not even paying attention to Green Mask because of what Blue Mask was doing to her pussy. He turned off the wans and threw it to the side as his lips sucked around her clit and his index and middle finger fucked into her hole, little spurts of arousal squirting out of her as it had done with Green Mask’s prior motions. Pink Mask stopped his own movements with Rani’s tits as he reached that same hand to push down onto Rani’s lower stomach. He knew this pressure would help to escalate Rani’s pleasure and make her orgasm come faster. Rani looked over at Green Mask, who was still calming himself down from facefucking her moments earlier, and pouted at him. Her eyes were pouring with tears, mouth was drooling, and her bottom lip was quivering; he knew the girl was close. “Feel good, yeah?” Rani moaned and whined out little “yeah’s” as he and the other men continued to egg her on with more questions and statements. 
“You gonna cum all over his fingers? Like a good girl?”
“You’re making a proper mess, sweetheart.”
“Fuckin’ squirt in my mouth, bitch.”
One final curl of his fingers and one final slap at her clit caused Rani to squirt like a broken fountain. She had no control over it, and some of the liquid flew all the way to her bedroom door before Blue Mask brought his mouth directly over her hole and drank whatever he could catch. 
Pink Mask let go from her abdomen and started to untie the knot from one of the bedposts on his side. “Untie those,” he commanded Green, and Rani felt relieved to be removed from her rather uncomfortable confinements. 
In spite of all of the commotion and the mental toll the situation had on her, Rani made sure to take mental notes of all of the men in the room. The one with the clean pink balaclava, seemingly the leader, had green eyes and a strand of dark-colored hair that stuck onto his forehead. He had an English accent, something similar to her boyfriend’s. Mr. Blue Mask had blue eyes, which she presumed was his reason for picking the color. He was quite a silly character in this situation, sort of the comic relief between all three men, so it would make sense. The one in the green mask (definitely a homemade one she might add), had freckles at the tops of cheeks and around his brown eyes. His accent was thick, but it wasn’t English like Pink’s. Maybe he was Australian? Or was he from New Zealand? She couldn’t tell, but it was definitely sexy. She knew that one’s name was “Jake” from hearing Blue Mask groan his name out of annoyance. Wait, Jake? That sounded familiar. But, wait, she didn’t know of any Jake’s. She knew a Jacob, who was one of Harry’s friends at work, but not any Jake’s. She quickly shrugged off that thought before the pink-masked man grabbed her by her jaw and tilted it up to face him.
“Dirty fucking whore.” Pink spat in Rani’s face and the fluid landed on her lips. “Lick it off.” He watched as Rani’s tongue worked itself over her lips and brought his saliva into her mouth. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Had a mint.”
Rani did taste the mint flavor and that exact flavor reminded her of her boyfriend. Her eyes started to well with tears as she thought about him- his smile, his laugh, his face, and how he could help her in this situation. She missed him. She needed him. 
But he wasn’t here right now. His face wasn’t amongst these three men. In fact, no face was among the men, just masks, gloves, and distorted, modified voices. She didn’t feel like she was having sex with three men; she felt like an object only being used for their pleasure. It wasn’t the worst feeling, though. She’d spoken to Harry about a fantasy like this- her house being broken into by an intruder who would come across her and find ways to use her body for his satisfaction before he left with the loot. She was lightly enjoying this, she couldn’t lie. And it was obvious the men could pick up on that. She just wished Harry was one of the men under the masks.
He grabbed onto her shoulder and squeezed them to get her full attention before instructing her, “Turn around and get on your knees by the end of the bed. Now!”
Rani fell to her knees as she felt Pink Mask give her a push to the floor by her shoulders. Her knees buckled onto the floor, and her eyes met with Blue Mask, who made his way onto the bed and positioned himself in a way that made his ass meet with Rani’s face. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she looked at what was before her, and she tilted her head at Pink Mask awaiting his further instructions.
“You’re gonna eat his ass,” he said sternly. “You understand?” Looking down at her, he could see her hesitation in her movements, but her eyes anticipated trying. 
She had licked her boyfriend Harry’s ass before, but it was only two times, and she didn’t think she was that good. But Harry was always amazing at licking hers, and she tried to remember what movements he would make with his tongue to help her out in this situation. So, she placed her hands on each of Blue Mask’s buttocks and put her tongue to work, running it along the rim of his hole in slow and smooth circles.
Blue felt the dampness of her tongue move around his hole and, although distorted due to the voice modifier, whimpered at the feeling. He wrapped his hand around the shaft of his length and began to stroke himself. The feeling was just indescribable.
Pink decided that he wanted in on the action, so he kneeled behind Rani. He didn’t give her any warning before shifting her body in a way that made her go on all fours- he needed better access to play with her cunt as he was the only one who hadn’t even touched  it out of the three, and the boys didn’t have much time left with the girl. They couldn’t risk doing this for much longer, and he needed to feel her.
Green Mask watched the scene in front of him- Rani’s focused face licking her tongue around Blue Mask’s ass with his face screwed in pleasure. “Yes, doll, lick his fucking ass like the slut you are,” Green Mask commanded with a laugh at the end of his statement. He was mocking her, but in some weird way it made Rani’s lower abdomen churn with pleasure. “Yes, Sir,” she moaned back at him, his words somehow encouraging her to lick with more vigor.
“Ohhhh,” Blue Mask emitted a moan and jerked himself off in faster strokes. His balls sat atop Rani’s forehead, and the friction between the body parts gave him more pleasure. “She’s too good at this, fuckin- shit,” he managed to get out of him amidst his moans and grunts. His accent (New York? Pennsylvania? She wasn’t sure.)  seemed to get thicker with the more intense he felt.
Pink Mask slapped Rani’s ass, causing her to moan into Blue Mask’s hole but never ceasing her tongue’s movements. “She’s definitely done this before, yeah?,” Pink asked her, and she moaned loudly, which was seemingly her way of saying yes. “That’s a lucky partner you got, I’m sure of it.” His fingers started to rub against her pussy, dragging along the outside of her labia repeatedly before smacking at her ass again. “Dripping like a broken tap, love. He did a number on your cunt earlier, didn’t he?” He was referring to Green Mask, who was now by the duffel bag and bent over the floor, trying to find one of the items Pink Mask removed from the bag earlier. 
Rani managed to crack some sort of smile as she continued licking at Blue’s ass. “Yes, Daddy,” she answered with a lisp since her tongue was busy.
“He made you feel so good, right, love?” He questioned again, running his thumb up and down between both of her holes, which surprisingly soothed her. 
The girl nodded again. “Yes, Daddy, so good. Mister made me feel good, too,” she looked up at Blue, who forced himself to look down into her eyes at the call of his other name “Mister”. He smirked and groaned, “Yeah? That’s good. And you’re doing such a good job at licking me, sweetheart.”
Rani’s hole pulsated when Blue praised her, and Pink noticed from his view. He loved seeing her aroused, and Blue wasn’t wrong about her satisfactory work. But he wanted to end the praise session and intensify the situation for his own satisfaction, so he slapped her ass and spread her cheeks open as wide as he could. “Stick your tongue down his asshole and move it in and out, whore. And don’t say another word.”
Rani yelped at the feeling of Pink manhandling her rear, and simply nodded as she followed his instructions. Her tongue stuck out and found itself inside Blue Mask’s puckered hole, beginning her thrusts with her tongue.
Once Green found what he was looking for, he walked over to Pink and, unbeknownst to Rani, handed him a tube filled with something clear. “She’s gonna love this shit, man.” he said to Pink, causing Pink to chuckle. 
Rani continued her actions against Blue’s ass and managed to lick at his balls a bit as well. Blue was in heaven with this girl, he couldn’t believe it. He needed to break into more houses and find other kinky bitches to lick his ass.
A click was heard from behind Rani, as if something was opening. She didn’t think about it much until she felt something cold land between her ass and into her asshole, some even running down her vagina. She then felt something be shoved right into her asshole, spreading the hole wide and stretching it in a way that hurt a little. She’d never had anal sex, the furthest she had gone was getting licked there by her boyfriend, so the feeling caused her to jolt away from Pink’s grasp before he pulled her right back over to him. “Did I tell you to fuckin’ move?” He questioned her, slapping her ass a couple of times before removing the object from her ass. 
She was about to answer until she remembered Pink demanding her not to say another word. Instead, she went back to leaving little kitten licks and sucks on Blue’s ballsack before, again, feeling an object being shoved inside her ass again, this time deeper than it has been before. She assumed if it wasn’t for the substance (she now realized it was most likely lube) dripped inside of her hole, the experience of this thing in her ass definitely would’ve felt worse than it did now. She only felt pressure and a stretch as the man behind her continuously thrusted the object back and forth into her asshole, using his fingers to rub at her clit which, surprisingly, also helped her be accustomed to this first anal experience.
Green Mask only sat back on a sofa Rani had in her room and watched what was happening in front of him, his cock dripping with anticipation to join in. But, he knew his place and knew what all three of them had in store for the girl next and decided to just wait his turn. Besides, he didn’t mind watching people fuck from the sidelines every now and then.
“Fuck,” Rani moaned under her breath and she threw her head down at the pleasure behind her. But, Pink didn’t like that and slapped at her ass with the object shoved as far as it could go into her asshole, causing Rani to wince in pain. “Shut the fuck up before I make you, pig.”
Rani didn’t say a word as she began to cry and went back to thrusting into Blue’s ass, Blue now jerking his cock at the sight. Her cries were so adorable, so thrilling, so sexy, and it made the pleasure he was receiving even more intense than it already was, as if that was even possible. “Fuck, you gotta stop it, girl,” he said, and Rani removed her head from between his ass until-
“Keep licking at him. And you’re not stopping until you cum for me,” Pink informed her, using one of his hands to shove her face right into Blue’s ass. Rani’s moans vibrated against Blue’s asshole as Pink shoved the object he was using into her even deeper and thrusted even faster. His fingers rubbed at Rani’s clit at a tantalizing pace, and Rani knew that if she focused on something else, Blue’s ass in this case, her climax would come faster. And so, she moaned into his ass and used her own hand to wank Blue’s dick for him. He wanted to protest against this as he went into this experience wanting to be in full control of his victim, but her smooth hand gliding against his cock felt too good to resist.
A few more thrusts went on before Pink paused, leaving the object inside of her ass as deep as he could, but continued his rotations around her wet, dripping cunt. He watched Rani’s facial expressions to the best of his abilities at his position, seeing that her face indicated her orgasm was approaching her once again for the night. He continued at the pace he was in, and Rani’s cunt pulsated as she neared her peak. “Alright, I want you to push your asshole as much as you can as you cum,” he commanded with a grunt, and Rani nodded as she followed his instructions, wincing out loud at the feeling of her pushing and her orgasm. Rani’s pussy finally squirted onto the floor, leaving a puddle that made a splash as the object once in her asshole landed on the mess. 
Pink kept her ass spread and his eyes marveled at the sight of her gaped asshole and her pussy weeping in front of him. It was the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen. Quickly, he glanced over at Green Mask, who rose from his seat and went over to Pink and Rani’s ass knowing that it was his cue. He picked up a polaroid camera from the floor by the duffel bag and snapped a picture of Rani’s asshole and pussy from the perfect angle. He knew Pink wanted to savor this moment, as he had discussed this scenario with him before.
Rani finally ceased the thrusts of her tongue at Blue Mask’s hole and removed her hand’s grasp from his cock. She and Pink Mask stood up from their positions, and Pink shoved the fingers he was using at her cunt into her mouth for her to suck on. She sucked on them, staring into his eyes as she did so before he finally removed them from her lips abruptly..
As Rani looked at the floor, she noticed the object that was used in her ass: a dildo longer and thicker than a cucumber. She looked over at Pink and saw him smirking, knowing that that look on his face came from seeing her own reaction to the object. 
She then heard Green Mask whistle and looked over his direction, noticing him laying on the bed. “Come on up here, gorgeous,” Green winked at her from under the mask and slapped his hands onto his thighs.
Rani stood in place, not really wanting to join Green onto the bed. She knew he wanted her to ride him, but having another man penetrate her just seemed so… disrespectful to her. And it  would be especially disrespectful to her boyfriend if he ever found out. Blue grabbed Rani’s shoulders from behind and began to walk her over to the bed before lifting her up and throwing her right leg on the opposite side of Green’s body. She was now in reverse cowgirl position, which surprised her, but she went along with it anyway, not really wanting to protest the men around her. But of course, the guilt of being fucked by another man still crept up on her and she muttered, rather shyly,-
“I have… I have a boyfriend.”
Green Mask paused his actions and brought Rani down to his chest, making her look into his eyes. “You’re telling us this now?” There was a pause before he let out a cackle, causing the other two men to laugh in suit. “After this man over here made you gape and the other one had his ass eaten by you? Now is when you say you mention a boyfriend? After squirting in front of three other men?” All of the men continued laughing. It was the most humiliating thing Rani was ever subjected to, and the tears on her face and whimpering of her mouth were proof of that. Yet somehow, it turned her on?
The man with the pink mask got onto the bed on his knees and slapped his cock onto Rani’s pussy as he spoke. “Well I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind if we played with his toy for a bit, huh?” Rani’s lower body jolted, not like she could escape the situation anyway. “Trust me, honey, you’re going to love what we’re gonna do to you. I mean, your pussy is kinda proving how much you love it already,” He paused to stick his tip in, but pulled it out before starting up his slaps again. “And even if you don’t, we don’t really give a fuck. This night is for us to enjoy. Your cries for help aren’t gonna stop us. Your little boyfriend isn’t here to stop us.”
The glow of Rani’s face washed away as she felt the pink masked man stick himself inside of her, inch by inch, slowly getting deeper. “Don’t worry, love. We’re all clean here. A little raw sex never hurts anyone if they’re clean,” he said, as if that would make her feel any better. 
Rani didn’t even get to utter a moan before a cock thrusted into her mouth. The woman gagged and slobbered onto Blue Mask’s shaft as he forced himself deeper with every stroke. “There we go,” Green Mask prodded on as he watched Rani with Blue’s length. “You’re a pro at taking cock, sweetheart,” he groaned as he played with her tits from behind.
The feeling of Pink and Blue both inside opposite ends of her body made her gag and choke onto the cock in her mouth. Mucus fell from her nose and tears ran down her cheeks, the scene getting messier with every movement.
Green ran one of his hands down between her ass and his waist. He gripped his cock and gave it a few strokes before lining it up with her asshole, and Rani didn’t even realize this happening before he finally slithered his thick cock inside of her.
Pink Mask continued his own thrusts into the clenching cunt around him as he felt Green Mask’s cock glide against the wall that separated both of Rani’s canals. He groaned a low and drawn out “Fuckkk,” at the feeling; it was unlike anything else he had felt before. 
Rani choked onto Blue’s cock, saliva spurting out from either corner of her lips, as she felt the intrusion of another cock into her other hole. Three men were not inside of each of her holes. “What the fuck was even happening anymore?” was the last thought that passed through her mind before all three men gripped at her body from their respective position and began to fuck into her relentlessly. 
Pink and Green’s cocks moved simultaneously in and out of Rani’s cunt and ass, and they could even feel each other through the membrane that separated the two holes, maximizing the feelings they were already experiencing. Pink stared at Rani and watched all of her facial expressions as she managed to get fucked in her mouth by Blue. He paused the two for a moment and grabbed onto Rani’s jaw, forcing her to face him. His emerald eyes stared into hers, his eyebrows furrowed and forehead dripping with sweat just as she was, and Rani’s cunt clenched around him as she lingered in his stare. Everything started to make sense. 
Pink pulled Rani towards him and sunk his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking at her own tongue and her lips before he pulled away and slapped her back down to Blue’s dick. “Keep sucking on him, bitch,” he was able to grunt out despite him being overwhelmed by all that was happening.
The room was filled with sweaty, sticky bodies slapping into each other and gags and chokes that came from Rani’s throat as Blue skull-fucked her. The men continued to egg her on with their own dirty talk, but not much was coming from Rani’s end of the conversation. Blue pulled out of her and watched as her head immediately threw back, almost like her head and neck were too numb to stand up on their own. “Damn, that bitch is braindead,” he commented with a chuckle, and the two other men took notice of this mention. 
Green slapped Rani's face a couple of times, but received no feedback from Rani other than a drunken moan. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered underneath his breath. He used his fingers of one hand to hook onto a corner of her mouth, which left her lips ajar, drool finding its way out from between. The drool landed onto her chest, as to which Pink bent over to lick it up and swirl it around in his mouth before spitting it back into Rani’s mouth. Rather, it missed and landed onto her cheek, but Rani was too intoxicated by her gangbang that she didn’t even flinch.
The two men fucking into Rani’s cunt and anus lifted up their hips to pick up their paces inside of her, Rani still too high to respond with anything other than a moan. Green let go of the corner of Rani’s mouth and gripped the back of her head to shove her mouth back onto Blue’s dick. Blue took the reigns and began face-fucking her again, this time with more desperation and speed. 
All of the men were finally close to cumming after more thrusts and grunts, and they could all feel it in their lower stomachs. The first to release was Green, who shot his cum so deep into her asshole, but he held his cock in place in order to not let anything drip out of her, not yet at least. 
Pink was next and did the same as Green, plugging his dick inside of her cunt and preventing any of his cum from spilling out of her.
Finally, it was Blue’s turn, and he shot his cum deep into her throat before smacking Rani’s cheek and grabbing her by her jawline. “Swallow my cum, whore.”
Rani regained consciousness from his grip at her jaw and somehow found a way to force herself to swallow his seed. She felt the thick substance slide down the walls of her esophagus and then looked at the two other men inside of her.
“We’re gonna pull out of you,” Pink started, “But we gotta make you cum first.” As he finished his statement, he and Green began their thrusts again. The thrusts of their cocks into her cum-filled holes caused their milky substances to squirt through the sides of her holes, splattering all over her bed. Pink rubbed at her clitoris while Green twisted her nipples and pulled at them before finally, Rani came. A loud pornographic moan filled the room as she climaxed, and she squirted all over Pink’s chest and torso. He and Green finally pulled out of her, and Pink watched as their beautiful concoction of fluids spilled from both of her holes. Blue had the polaroid camera in his hands and shot pictures of the entire orgasm. Pink knew he would have a fun time looking at the pictures later.
The three men in the room got themselves composed before they heard an attention-grabbing cough come from the bed. It was Rani, who was obviously composed and very aware of what just happened.
“Thank you so much,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Harry, for that wonderful night”
The man in the pink mask chuckled, and finally took off his mask, revealing himself to Rani as her boyfriend. “Glad you enjoyed this, sweetheart,” He blushed, “but what gave me away?”
“I looked into your eyes. No one has green eyes as beautiful as yours.”
“Oh,” he laughed again. “I guess I should’ve worn contacts.”
“Also, you were being really possessive about cumming inside of my pussy. I know how possessive you get when it comes to me,” she continued and smirked at him.
Harry laughed and went up to Rani to kiss her on her cheek, which was still warm and stinging from the men slapping her all night. “You’re right. Should’ve controlled that a bit more.”
“No baby, I thought it was really cute. I’m shocked that your friends agreed to this. Actually, I’m shocked that you thought of this whole thing in the first place.”
Harry let out a warm smile and brushed his fingers through his hair, which was matted from being confined to the balaclava. “Yeah, well remember the conversation we were having about our kinks and deepest desires? I wanted to do something special for my girl, especially since our anniversary is coming up. I wanted to help you mark something off of your bucket list.”
Rani scoffed, “More like a couple of things.” Then, she looked toward the Blue Masked Man. “And I mean, Jake?” Blue’s eyes widened and he let out a “whoops” as Rani continued. “You kinda slipped that one out, Timmy.”
Timmy, or Timothee, removed his mask along with Green Mask, the Jake in question, following him with his own. TImothee and Jake, who was the “Jacob” Rani thought of before, were Harry’s work buddies and best friends. “So it wasn’t really a business trip, huh, guys?”
Jacob raised his hand to butt in. “Well, you could say it kinda was. I mean it was a job we all took part in to help our friend. I guess?”
“Mhm, yeah, sure,” Rani said, “Anyway, I had fun guys. I don’t know if I’d ever do something like that again, though. It took soooo much out of me.”
Harry kissed her temple and smiled. “Yeah, well never say never.”
“By the way, we didn’t take anything from your house,” Jacob stated, lifting up one of the bags he and TImothee went around the house with at the beginning, and showed her the contents of it. “It was just styrofoam we brought with us to give that illusion.
Rani laughed and shook her head. “Y’all are just too much.”
The four of them sat in her bedroom and discussed what went on that night, watching as the sun rose from Rani’s window. Harry held onto his girl, feeling like such a proud boyfriend. He fell in love with Rani even more than ever.
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kagariasuha · 7 months
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Dark Harry.
Inspired by an incredible ritual scene from @crowcrowcrowthing's "Sunspots": https://archiveofourown.org/works/34675228/chapters/86331985
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harrysonlylover · 8 months
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Checkmate ( Part 1)
Summary: Two rival assassins are sent out to complete a mission during which they bump into each other. Questions will be asked, and history will make an appearance.
So dear reader,grab your mask and summon your sharp wit.
Trope: Assassin! H / LHH
Warnings: mentions of knives, guns, violence, blood, physical fight.
Wc: 10.5k
A/n: why not…? I love Darkrry, so enjoy. @keepdrivingkisses sent me a video of Mr & Mrs Smith and then i got to work hehe!!!
Main Masterlist
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Author’s POV
The truth is you’re going to die.
It doesn’t matter if your life flashed before your eyes, if the sky was dark and cloudy, or if it was predictable because you spilled your coffee that morning.
Death could happen in the most bizarre ways, on the train home, while you’re asleep, or even sitting peacefully at home. It is inevitable and once it is decided there is no going back.
Although it arrives suddenly, without warning or a chance to bid your loved ones goodbye, it can also be planned, calculated and you very much would be aware.
In this case, you would be someone known and a threat to someone else with a reputation. Usually, bodyguards will flood your houses, follow your every step, and hire security teams.
Once your head has a price, you will be found.
The how’s and why’s are irrelevant, what is asked for will be done discreetly and without catching attention from the wrong people. This job is not for the FBI or even some counterintelligence agency. In fact, they’re the ones who are not supposed to ask questions.
Assassins have been feared since monarchy days, the number of kings or descendants that died at the hands of an assassin is countless. It remains to this day, the most efficient way to eliminate someone that harms your good.
Thankfully, not everyone can order assassins around or even have their contact, but don’t forget that they are normal people, with normal lives and you could sit down for a coffee with one of them while they clean the blood off their hands at night.
This isn’t about who’s the target, because they will die anyways. This is the story of two assassins, that you better watch your back from, and maybe lock your doors really well.
Never mind, I wasted your time. They will find you.
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3rd Person POV:
The rain poured down heavily, hitting the pavement with loud thuds enough to make both the living, and the dead uncomfortable. The weather has been holding some tension for a few days now, so the wrath of Zeus is hardly a surprise.
It will remain this way for a while; the children will run home ready to hide in the safety of their warm nests, drink the hot chocolate their parents prepared, and hug their plushies at night, not forgetting to shudder slightly with every thunder.
The adults will let out a sigh of relief and use it as an excuse to call in sick from their miserable job, perhaps surrender to a movie night with a cheap bottle of wine.
Rain is an accomplice in murder. Once it appears, normal human beings will cocoon themselves in the safety of their homes. As for others, well they do anything but stay at home.
In a hotel room, in the heart of Paris, a girl is pacing around and quietly unpacking her suitcase, which is oddly lightweight. There are only a few people who pack light.
The white duvet is untouched, with no hints of any wrinkle. She had just arrived, and she knows better than to rest or even lay her head. Rest is for the weak.
The first thing she spotted when she unlocked the room is the crimson red object, perhaps not with her eyes but you could call it a sixth sense. She didn’t give it much attention nor grab the tightly sealed card next to it. Instead, she let out her towel from the suitcase and headed toward the bathroom.
The water must always be lukewarm. A hint of warmness to relieve her muscles, and a bit of coldness for the sting and maybe to increase her blood flow.
She doesn’t stare at the mirror for long, they are quite useless. Glass is unnecessary and merely a distraction method. She knows quite well that she is magnificent, and the validation will always be provided by her, not a man nor a patriarchal object.
The nature of her job rendered her to remain fit and lean, working out is the only routine that could never be altered from her schedule. Though, this isn’t the reason she adores her body. It’d be the same for her whether she was curvy or slim. She simply doesn’t give a fuck.
Fortunately, a loser of a man once crossed her path in a bar and was on a date with a plus-size woman. She happened to sit near them and they seemed to be hitting it off until the (might she add gorgeous) woman took a bathroom break, in which he found the opportunity to call his best mate and tell him how ‘ugly she is’ and that he ‘doesn’t date these types.
She was feeling good that night, so she decided to be kind and was satisfied by pouring a very small amount of potassium monoxide into his drink. She didn’t stay enough to know what happened, neither did she care. However, she did make sure to set up a nice date for the girl.
She smirked proudly at the memory as she walked nude toward the bed and began applying her rose lotion. Having to constantly travel and move locations did not stop her from indulging in self-care or pampering herself with luxurious products. After all, the money she gets already bought her a house and a car, so why not splurge?
After a quick stretch, applying hair oil, and styling it she finally shifts her attention to the item hung on a closet that she won’t use, along with the white envelope lying next to it, and the message she received on her burner phone which she heard its chime even whilst being under the water.
The hanger held a long silk dress, burning crimson red and showcasing the collarbone area with an unnoticeable slit near the thigh. It was obvious that it was made of real silk paired with matching crimson satin heels, and both items originating from Prada. Although it is a silk dress, it does not hug her body, nor fits a party. Instead, it is quite baggy and for a formal occasion. Just next to the discarded envelope, a red mask with feathers is placed.
She reached for the envelope and revealed the letter designated for her.
The blood will trail crimson red
Unbeknownst to my guests
 In spring, poppies will spread
So come here and catch heads
She couldn’t help but allow the corners of her mouth to twitch. Her boss has always been extra, but she’s tolerated him for years. She burns the letter and then checks the content of the text he left.
1st Arrondissement, Place Vendôme
8:00 PM. Will send the location in an hour.
You know your target.
She sat down and ate her Salmon with Brussels quietly watching the clock tick loudly as it strikes 6:00 PM. The rain is tainting the windows and the echo of the thunder lingers even with the glass being shut.
Her eyes focus on the rain droplets sliding down the window and she wonders if it will persist for two more hours.
If it does, it’d be better to stay home and not wander around in the streets. Poppies are deadly.
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Paris, 7:30 PM
After her quick dinner, she had enough time to kill, literally.
She unpacked her special bag and followed through with her routine that must always be done before every job. Her collection of knives was staring at her, their shiny metal mirroring her face.
She was still standing in her corset and panties. She abandoned bralettes ages ago and opted for corsets to form some sort of protection on her chest area, they also don’t bother her like bralettes did.
As for her underwear, it was a gift from one of her old female bosses.
‘Men are predictable and always aim for your panties, so do let them touch’
The fabric was made to specifically hold a heavy object but without grazing her skin. She has to admit how smart of a move it is to create such clothing. Her stiletto knife always accompanied her right in her lace underwear.
But one is never enough for her, a garter belt on her thigh will have to do, she can’t risk placing it on the side where the slit in the dress could reveal it. So she opts for her right thigh and tightly secures two push daggers in it.
She wore her custom dress quite quickly, along with the satin heels but her bag was still staring at her. Maybe a gun wouldn’t hurt? For fun?
Thankfully, she always lubricates and cleans her guns after the mission, so she doesn’t have to waste time before one just to clean it up. She placed a cartridge at the top then pushed it down and back and inserted the top of the magazine into the magazine well at the bottom of the frame with the bullets facing forward, then pushed upward until the magazine is fully seated.
A click sound was heard, and it was more satisfying than the screams of her targets. She put the safety on and then stuffed the gun in her corset, making sure it was in an easy-access position.
Her hair was already styled right after her shower, but she decided to go for a smoky eye look with dark red lipgloss. She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know how pretty she is.
If only looks could kill.
She locked the lower layer of her case that carries her equipment with the code panel that is barely noticeable and covered it with the top layer having luxurious makeup (with maybe some of it being equipment disguised as beauty products). She locked the bag overall and placed it in a cupboard that hotel workers probably don’t even know of, but these are the perks of being trained to observe.
She checked the burner phone for the location and cursed the dress code that is stopping her from going there using a motorcycle. She took the feather mask and placed the burner phone in the pocket of the dress before leaving her room and locking it well.
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Place Vendôme , 8:15 PM.
As soon as her heels set foot in the spacious vintage venue, she deleted the location text from her burner phone and wrapped the ribbons of the feather mask around her head. She arrived at exactly 8 PM, her professionalism allows nothing less.
However, her impatience does have something to say about the delay of her mission. According to the file she studied before her arrival in Paris, her target is a businessman called Arthur Lorray. She closed her eyes allowing her visual memory to take over, to recall her target’s info. Her mind focuses sharply on the document she memorized back in Amsterdam.
Arthur Lorray, 58 years old, Male, American, blue eyes, scar on his left cheek, 5’9 feet tall, 90 kgs, can be found around a group of women.
Mission: lure the target to a safe quiet place and eliminate him then use the window to escape.
Murder witnesses if found and leave no trace behind.
Payment: 2 million $
Her boss left her this information in a sealed file while staying at a hotel in Amsterdam, Henry is also a businessman and she never asked why he is demanding the death of these people. She assumes it’s some men’s shit about power and authority.
Now, where does the issue lie?
Her target Arthur is nowhere to be found. The ball hasn’t even started yet, and now that she takes a good look around her it’s quite the event. She feels as if she stepped back in time to an 1800s-themed ball, all the women are dressed in fancy lace and feather gowns, with masks covering their faces. The men are wearing old suits with ruffles and weird-looking boots.
The chandelier is probably worth around 3 million $ alone, it’s decorated with shiny crystals that are reflecting on the marble tiles. The hall is spacious with high ceilings, and some of the walls hold a lantern with fire in it to convince the guests that they actually traveled in time.
The walls are adorned with luxurious gold leaves, and Renaissance paintings in the center of the ceiling with high columns as if built by the Romans. All these details provided the illusion of an imperial event unbeknownst to the guests that are mingling and grabbing one glass of champagne after the other.
In the middle of the hall, a man is sitting on a leather bench slowly killing her ears by playing the piano as his friend plays the violin, if not for the violin player she’s pretty sure the first guy would’ve brought back the great depression era.
It is obvious that the guests are just starting to arrive, trying to find the people they know then giggle and complain about the masks. It is her job after all, and she must wait if it requires, but men tend to sit on her nerves.
She fetched a glass of Dom Pérignon, to appear as if she’s blending but she doesn’t drink on the job, nor does she like it in the first place.
It won’t be hard to detect her target, it is quite easy to spot a herd of businessmen and differentiate them from the normal middle class or at least non businessmen.
They would be gathered around each other like a stock of sheep, making misogynistic jokes with their hands wrapped around their newest arm candy. If Arthur already has a woman with him, it will make it harder for her but never impossible.
She could feel that a man is about to approach her for flirting, so she quickly walks the other way and roams the entire hall both in search of her target and to escape the company of a boring male.
She keeps her eyes on the guests and takes note of her boss that is standing near other businessmen. Now, of course, she will not approach him nor should she. In missions like these, her goal is to eliminate whom he asks for, it is a rarity that he requests protection.
He has bodyguards but she’d protect him if she must, however maintaining a distance and no contact is the preferred method.
The cold glass in her hand is starting to leak melting ice on her palm from how long she’s been holding on to it. She pretends to take a sip from it and discards it on a nearby table.
The hall is now beyond full and echoing with laughter and chatter, if Arthur did arrive it’ll take her more time to find him, and that she doesn’t have. She spots a staircase leading to a 2nd-floor balcony with the hall she’s in being the view.
She discreetly and innocently climbs up the stairs, paying attention to the two knives and one gun placed in sensitive areas. Once she finds a good location, her eyes behind the mask begin roaming the guests.
Albeit the loud chatter and obnoxious laughter, she was still able to pour her focus into the crowd. Her irises spotted a man with a physique the same as indicated in Arthur’s file, he shifted his face at just the right angle for her to catch the scar that the mask is barely able to hide.
Gotcha, she muttered under her breath.
She slowly and carefully went down the stairs and headed gracefully toward the eastern corner of the hall. Though there was some sort of feeling or even instinct that settled in her stomach. Her target was so close, but she felt as if something wasn’t right.
She stopped in her tracks and instead decreased her pace. There was something that she can’t pick up but at the same time, she can’t risk delaying her mission when she’s already got a hold of her person.
Assassins could never trust their instincts, but she never admitted to anyone the number of times her instincts had saved her.
‘Rule number fucking one: never do instinct bullshit. Assassins use their brain and skills unless you don’t plan on living for long.’
In situations like these, she’s reminded of her mentor’s words during her training as an amateur. She stops in her tracks once she catches a whiff of a dangerously familiar scent.
Tom Ford, tobacco vanille.
It could be the scent of any man here but combine it with her hunch and she’ll have a problem on her hands. She takes a deep breath and shifts her eyes to check that her target is still in place, and to see if there are any signs of trouble.
“Hey watch out!” Despite her quick reflexes, she barely turned around before a bulky man bumped into her, making her shift her body and stand in shock as the smell of the perfume intensified.
The man continued to walk without a care in the world, and if she doesn’t make him turn around, she’ll never have her peace of mind.
“Fucking dick! Do you have eyes?!” He stops in his tracks at her tone and quietly turns around tilting his head in annoyance.
His hair was long and shoulder length, his golden mask didn’t help in hiding his forest-green irises. He offered a hint of a smirk, and his eyes immediately drop to her forearm, right below her elbow, and fixate on her poppy tattoo.
Harry fucking Styles.
Her rival assassin, commonly known as Azrael; angel of death.
“I believe you were in my way, flower.” His voice was low but deep, enough to confirm her suspicions and make her body go on alert mode.
A red fucking code.
She begins walking backward, feeling uncomfortable with the situation. He started following her just as she turned around and walked the other way.
It is never a good sign to have another assassin present during a job, whether they’re sent for your target or another. But he isn’t just any assassin, the names Poppy and Azrael go way back.
Poppy started crafting a plan in her head and tried to come up with answers as she diverted him from her and lost him in the crowd. The only obstacle is that she’s one of the very few dressed in red. Mainly, the colors blue, gold, yellow, and dark green are the most prominent. Besides, this isn’t the first time she’s played hide and seek with him which motivates her to hide her tracks.
In situations like these, her boss becomes a priority. For all she knows, Azrael could be sent here to harm him. She fishes out her burner phone and quickly types a text message to Henry’s phone number.
Another is here, call your security team.
She watched as his facial expression changes once he read it, and she doesn’t linger long enough to check on her target. It could all be discussed later on, but the fact that an assassin is in the same room as her is a red fucking code, let alone being the most ruthless assassin with a reputation that precedes him.
Although it is not a smart move, she waited until Henry was escorted out of the building by two teams of security, not batting a lash at the murmurs of the crowd that only persisted for a few minutes before they got back to partying.
Her job here is done.
Arthur Lorray is still breathing, and she can’t help but feel her blood boil.
The thing about Assassins is that they’re solo ravens. They may have partners, but never anything other than an assassin. Knowing her nemesis she’d assume he’s alone. Now that her boss is no longer near him, she has nothing else to do.
But she can feel him, and her body is betraying her. She can sense his perfume, his smirk behind the mask, his curls brushing on his face, and she can certainly feel his presence behind her back.
“Checkmate Poppy.”  He whispered in her ear causing a shiver to run down her spine. His hot breath was so close to her neck, prompting goosebumps to spread all over her skin.
She didn’t turn around, nor move an inch. His face was settling near her neck, with his mouth close to her earlobe. She remembered the instructions in her file and how she was supposed to escape through a window which makes her believe that it was an easy route. She eyed the staircase while turning her head backward gently to give him her death stare.
“Oh, how I’ve missed running after you.” He chuckled as he allowed his eyes to roam her angelic face.
Meanwhile, she had her eyes set on the waiter coming towards them with a tray of expensive champagne. She discreetly stepped on his long ridiculous coat making him fall forward and drop the tray on the ground, splashing Harry and some guests in the process.
It was her cue to escape, but he doesn’t want to let her go.
Just as her heels set forward, his hands followed by grabbing her arms and pulling her backward to his chest. “Sorry folks! My wife is a bit clumsy.” He sent them his charming smile making the women swoon and the men mutter under their breaths. With his hand tightly wrapped around her torso, he fished out a heavy stack of bills reaching up to thousands of dollars and gave it to the waiter before patting him on the back.
Poopy was fuming. She could escape if she wants to, and they both know that. Not by some silly distraction method or out of the window. For fucks sake she is one of the most requested assassins. Well, she and Harry are.
She’s not in danger, he wants to play his sick game of a cat chase just like he always did. She could aim at his weakest spots that she memorized, or even use her one of her push daggers to the side of his larynx and sever the carotid artery and jugular vein.
But she has to admit. She missed having someone to push her buttons and challenge her.
The crowd slowly dissipated and forgot all about the commotion the deadly pair caused. One thing about his grip is that it’ll leave marks, he was even covering her entire torso by just wrapping his arm around it. He’s trying not to think about how despite his physique, she can still beat his ass if she wants to.
So why resist Poppy Princess?
None of them had time to make any move. It’s a bit ironic to see the two most dangerous assassins get pushed to the middle of the hall because Mr. I can barely play the piano decided to announce a dance.
She should’ve killed him when she first entered, she thought.
“Oh darling reminds me of our honeymoon.” He mocked with a sick smile planted on his face. His sarcastic comments have begun and she’s not sure for how long she can handle him before shooting him in the leg, or even better his crotch.
It is quite a shock to see him after so long, there was always unfinished business between them. A grudge, a scar, or even something more. How would the guests act if they knew that they are in the presence of good old dangerous foes?
They were forced to put on a mask, different than the one they have on. Fleeing to an isolated place was not a choice, not when almost the entire hall gathered to dance with almost no space to leave. He was definitely not going to allow her to dance with someone else.
“Long time no see Azrael.” She finally spoke as they stood in position for the dance. They both bowed down to each other, not forgetting to raise their eyes and offer a sharp stare.
Their eye contact competition has started.
The annoying musicians began performing Waltz No.2 by Dmitri Shostakovich and it was everyone’s cue to commence waltzing. Poppy and Azrael held hands before standing next to each other as they extended their opposite legs, his left arm behind his back while she spread hers.
They then straightened their postures as she placed her left arm on his right one that is touching her shoulder blade while joining the opposite sides of their hands before beginning to sway to the right.
“I was indeed beginning to wonder where you’ve gone. I thought someone else earned the pleasure of killing you.” He replied to her previous comment as his eyes burned into hers from behind the mask.
“No, I can’t possibly die when I still didn’t kick you in your crotch.” He made her spin around with his hand before getting back to their position.
She can feel his touch burning deep into her skin and settling in, let alone the music that is intensifying, or his eyes that are not parting from her or looking out for bumping into the others.
“Oh please just say you want to take a look.” His voice didn’t have to be so raspy when he was basically in her face and attached to her.
They began swaying to the left, their feet in sync with each other as they danced in circles around the room while the symphony kept playing. It was legendary, only if some knew. A Dance with the two masters of death, as if they’re tiptoeing and having fun with others’ lives. A deadly rhythm indeed.
Their chemistry and deadly stares grins behind the mask, and body language would be enough to pull at the strings of the violin tearing it apart to shreds as they watch everything around them get destroyed except for them.
“How’s that scar I gave you?” She mused aiming to humor his sarcasm.
“Amazing. I look at it every day wondering when I can give you a similar one.” He tried not to chuckle recalling the scar on his rib that he maybe likes a bit too much.
“How about never?” She violated the rules of the waltz by getting dangerously close to his face just for her to whisper in his ear.
They changed their position as she extended her arm to the side of his neck and him to her waist before they danced around in a circle. They switched to the right and joined palms not tearing their eyes from each other.
“Why are you here Harry and how did you know where to find me?” She decided against digging her nails into his skin as they got back to the previous dancing posture.
“I can find you when I want to.” He replied providing her with both a truth and a lie. He really can find her if he wishes to and so can she. He fought the urge to do so many times just to see her pissed off. However, he had no idea that she’ll be here. He just came here for his mission.
He makes her spin one more time before claiming his tight grip on her. He can see the confusion and anger in her eyes, how she was trying to pull information out of him but if anything he knew since the moment he laid his eyes on the deadly flower that trouble is in this very room.
“Oh, so you want to play this game, Harry? Like old times?” She sneered making him let out a chuckle at her fierceness that he always admired.
The music piece was now nearing the end and it’s such a shame they didn’t get to properly indulge in the dance, except that if they did some tables might get wrecked and they’d leave with bruises just like always.
“What was the score? Refresh my memory petal.”
“Who’s counting? We did a number on each other, it’s time for another game.” She didn’t elaborate any further and instead bowed down one last time like all the dancers in the room before leaving the hall and bumping into his shoulder.
He glanced behind him and saw her taking the stairs as she turned around to give him her deadly stare that he knows even if she has a mask on. She was not running away from him nor hiding.
It was an invitation.
With a proud grin on his face, his legs instantly followed her persisting fragrance immune to the women attempting to ask him for a dance or a chat . His eyes were set forward, not blinking nor angling his head an inch.
The second floor was empty and discarded as if it was left especially for the two of them. He strolled nonchalantly eyeing the closed doors for a tiny gap, her perfume became stuck to his clothes and hair as if it were aiming to distract him from her.
“Come out wherever you are Poppy, let’s have some fun.” His voice echoed in the empty corridor as he continued to look for evidence of her presence.
 Even the deadliest assassins leave trails, it depends on whether it was intentional or not.
His eyes landed on a red feather delicately resting on the marble tiles near a slightly open door. Was it an invitation or a clumsiness on her part?
His hand itches as it slowly pushes the door eliciting a loud squeak due to the age of the wood. The light is dim inside the room, but it is enough to display the magnificent interior. The walls are similar to the ones downstairs but with more gold, and the room is free of furniture except for the occasional flower vase or antique sword.
He barely takes one more step before his body is pushed against the nearest wall with a knife positioned at his throat. Her perfume is making him dizzy in a new way, and he should know better than to fall into her mouse trap that easily.
But in these moments, he wasn’t Azrael the ruthless assassin. He was just Harry.
“Really Poppy? From behind the door?” He let out a deep chuckle that she felt go through her body as the only thing separating them now is her sharp stiletto knife.
“I want my answers and I’m going to get them.” There was no hint of sarcasm in her tone nor humor.
The sharp edge of the knife is digging into his neck, one tiny shift and she’ll draw blood and he smirks at the thought. Little minx.
Her mask is now gone and he’s not sure if that’s good or bad, but what he can do is stare at her eyes as if she has some sort of magic like a siren. The surprising news is that he’s doing the same. His irises are just so different when the light is dim as if they need to shine more or grow darker.
One of them needs to make a move, and it’s Harry’s turn to move the chess piece.
It happens so quickly that it manages to shock them both. He blocks the knife with his palm allowing it to barely penetrate his skin and draw a small amount of blood then throws it to the ground as it lets out a loud thud.
He turns her body around locking a tight arm around her waist and searches for any other weapons she might carry. He pats her instead of letting his hand wander around her skin until he’s met with something on her thigh.
“You brought knives to a gunfight?” He tsked breaking his tough façade, switching to his cocky personality.
“I like it messy. Now what are you doing here?” She gritted through her teeth as she was visibly angry. Harry was more interested in the way her chest is rising and falling, it was so intriguing to watch especially when he usually does it before stopping the rising. But her. He could get paid to watch it.
“We could stay like this all night. Never minded some fun with knives.” His threat is verbal and reassures her that he will not let down his guard.
The tension here does not lie just between two assassins who are curious as to why they’re found in the same room, but also in their history of banter, chasing, and the sexual tension that lingered as their shadow.
Poppy’s chess piece moves.
She uses her heels to press on his crotch earning a pained wince from his lips, it was almost like a moan going right into her ear. His grip gets loose around her waist as she pushes his body away and heads towards her beloved knife that is discarded in the center of the room.
She can feel him about to approach her as she picks up her knife so she reaches for one of the push daggers from her garter and aims it in his direction without looking. She had to check on her knife after all. Priorities?
When she finally raises her head and takes a look, her eyes fall on his figure pinned to the wall due to her push dagger that penetrated his suit and cut off a piece of fabric and some of his chocolate hair.
He’s smirking as if she didn’t just risk his life, he finds it quite amusing. The hair strands and fabric fall to the ground as he twists the push dagger between his fingers while strolling toward her.
“You like it messy Poppy, don’t you? I’ll give you messy.” His tone was dark and threatening but it’s nothing she can’t handle.
He hides the dagger in his pocket and takes off his ripped jacket discarding it to the ground. They stand facing each other like two chess pieces. The Rook and the Queen.
“I’m not leaving here until I get my answers.” She warned as they both moved around in a circle eyeing the other’s body language.
“And my hair took time to grow flower.” His forest eyes dug deep into her soul.
He attacks first aiming at her collarbone but she ducks down and twists his arm before punching him in the face. It is not enough to cause deformations to his pretty face but his anger is so worth it.
He saw her smile for the first time tonight, and isn’t it wonderful that he gets to wipe it away? He goes after her and uses the dagger he claimed to cut through her dress right where the slit is so that her entire thigh is shown.
He has to admit that the sight of the garter on her thigh and her bare legs could kill him without any weapons but he needs to stay focused.
“Oh you little fucker” She moves a hair strand from her face and goes for her next move before he can blink.
She takes out her gun from her corset, turning off the safety blindly before shooting in his direction but not at him. He has no time to react as the vase that he didn’t notice behind him takes the bullet and blows up into pieces, one of them slashing slightly through his cheek.
Everyone’s too engrossed with the festivities and dancing that they did not hear the gunshot, not that it was loud anyways since it has a silencer.
Harry brings his hand to his cheek and realizes that her aim was more than perfect or else.. she could’ve made him get plastic surgery.
“It’s a shame, that was a nice vase.” He pouted pretending to be sad and hurt.
“And so was my dress idiot.”
“Do you remember that one time in Vienna when you called the FBI on me?” He asked with his hands behind his back, he was aiming to strike and she’s going to let him.
“My favorite memory.” She laughs as if he reminded her of a pleasant vacation.
“Oh Fuck you, Poppy.” He reveals a gun from behind his hand that aims at the ground between her feet.
“The old man at my hotel can aim better.” She riles him on knowing damn well why he aimed there and that he can shoot a gun with a blindfold around his eyes.
“Just tell me why you’re here Harry and we’ll both be on our way.” She would never admit being defeated but their little game has become tiring.
 The rook and the queen are in the center again observing the damage they inflicted. They upgrade their game by going in blind and standing in front of each other with guns pointed at the others’ hearts.
The metal of the gun is pressing into his skin despite being clothed, he had discarded his mask earlier on and he shared the same move by digging his gun into her chest.
It wasn’t about breaking the skin barrier or transmitting electric touches. What their eyes are sharing is far more intimate, it comes off as a threat, a prayer, a plea, and an announcement.
Checkmate.
“Yield petal.”
“Never.” There goes that stubbornness, like a moth to his flame.
Then, the rook moves.
Harry smashes his forehead into hers, enough to make her dizzy but never not a concussion. She stumbles backwards pressing her hand to her head as her anger takes over her again. He launches forward and slightly lowers his level to wrap his arms around her torso and throw her over his shoulders.
“I have questions too Poppy.” He breathes out shutting his eyes momentarily, and for the first time ever he disliked his job.
He barely managed to walk a few meters forward before he felt her tight grip on his neck despite her body dangling off his shoulder. She used the grip on his veins to push her weight upwards and make him stop in his tracks.
Harry is quite heavy, with biceps that need a custom suit and legs that can lift a whole body single-handedly. Unfortunately, his stamina and strength are immune to Poppy, she is smaller and possesses less physical strength but what she just did is beyond cleverness.
After balancing herself she flips his body forward with one of her favorites: a punch. She exploits gravity as an ally and pushes his body to the ground as he falls with a thud.
She strolls over to him dramatically, her heels clicking on the marble ground as he balances himself using his elbows. As soon as she’s near his body she raises her leg and presses her heel into his chest to stop him from getting up. He simply lifts his gaze feeling too enchanted by her, not caring about the pain that he feels due to the sharpness of her heel.
She expects him to flip her leg or use one of his moves that’ll give you a good time in the ER, but instead, he locks eyes with her and slowly inches his face forward before leaving a lingering kiss to her ankle accompanied by his devil grin, more like an angel of death.
“The last move is always mine Harry.” She panted in an attempt to stay balanced after barely escaping his grip from dizziness.
The grin widened as it spread across his face but even then, his lips didn’t leave her ankle. The moment he placed his mouth on her skin she felt electricity going through her body starting from her leg up to her brain.
With one fallen chess piece, the queen detaches herself from the rook giving him one last glance before walking away. You must never turn your back on your enemy but in the case of Poppy and Azrael, they know each other too well that trust managed to bloom between them on the walls of rivalry.
And at this moment the trust whispers loudly in the room: game over.
Harry’s eyes are shut and his nostrils are flaring, his mind is too lazy to get up from the ground, but he can. He can go after her and play round after round but he knows better than to have hope because they will not utter a word to the other.
Then it happens.
She stops in her tracks, her breaths shallow and wary as she angles her head slowly to the right casting a look from her peripheral vision. He shares the same look on his face as he reluctantly stands up.
A chime went off in the room, or perhaps two chimes?
There is unspoken knowledge between them as they both take out their burner phone and check the source of the chime. It indeed was two chimes, their interest in the content of the message exposed them.
Now, the one thing that follows in terms of danger after two assassins are in the same room is two assassins receiving a text at the same instant in the same room.
“Forgot to pick up your new flowerpot?”
“Do you have a hairdresser appointment?”
The sarcasm cannot last for long, the signs are all there. Something is off about this entire evening and while this sense of trepidation usually belongs to their targets, they find themselves on its other side.
“Your target is Arthur Lorray isn’t it?” He takes the risk and waits for any indication in her facial expression.
“And yours is Henry Davis.” She replies tilting her head as her mind tries to uncover this twisted puzzle.
If not for a certain thought in his mind, for his blind trust, her odour, or even a small reckless part of him he wouldn’t have acted the way he did. He wouldn’t have approached her and revealed the contents of his message.
Something flashed in her eyes, though he could never read them. But it could only mean two things: death or paradise.
“I got the same message.” Different bosses sending the same message?
Poppy, be present in a room at the end of the corridor on the second floor in 5 minutes.
He got an identical message but addressed to ‘Azrael’.
This is wrong in so many ways, she observed as her boss was accompanied by two security teams with her own eyes and now he’s asking her to meet him in a room in the presence of the target he had asked her to eliminate.
This has never happened before and nor were they trained for it.
It could be a setup for all they know.
“Stay behind me, Poppy. I don’t like this” Harry warned as they exited the room they were in.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She scoffed even though she knew how valid his warning was.
“Can you not be feisty for once?” He sneered in her face as some of his curls fell on his injured cheek.
“You’re bleeding.” She ripped a tiny piece from her dress that he had already ruined earlier and pressed it to his place of injury.
“Careful or I might think you’re falling in love.”
“Maybe if you let me punch you again.”
Their banter stopped right as they spotted a door at the end of the corridor, they could see how the guests are still very much clueless while On the hills of Manchuria played in the background.
They look like an absolute mess as if they just survived a hurricane. Her dress is barely covering her body as her left leg is completely exposed reaching up to her hip and the loose threads can give you a hint of what happened.
His blazer is nowhere to be seen, his white down button is wrinkled and he has a piece of her dress pressed to his face. If they descend and mingle in the hall, not only will they cause a fuss but also terror.
He doesn’t get to tell her anything before she turns the doorknob and pushes the door. They’re met with a well-decorated room filled with antiques and vintage furniture of gold and white. A chimney is lit for the ambiance and it wasn’t hard to spot the only two figures in the room pouring expensive Bourbon.
“Ah, there you are!” Henry is standing in the middle of the room while Arthur relaxes on the sofa with his arms spread.
The looks on their faces are priceless. There is no one else in the room that might attack them. However, Harry is making sure to check the room for anything that could be out of sorts like a camera or so.
“What the fuck is this mockery?” Harry’s body tenses and his fists are clenching as he stares back at the two men.
“Please Harry take a seat we just want to discuss business, no funny stuff.” Arthur spoke nonchalantly as if he wasn’t supposed to be dead.
“We’re very much comfortable like this.” Poison dripped from her mouth as she tried to figure out what all of this could be.
“Oh Poppy don’t be cross. You’ve known me for years! Don’t you trust me?” Henry says as he hands Arthur his glass of Bourbon.
“Trust is a dangerous thing.” She began walking towards them despite Harry’s disapproval.
Poppy is very witty. She never accepts a client before researching them from the moment they’re born till the present and it isn’t your typical Google search. She stalks them, plants bugs, spies... whatever she finds suitable for her peace of mind.
Henry was like any other businessman and he never caused her any trouble. Except for today.
“Are you aware that we can kill you in two minutes if you don’t explain right this instant?” Harry threatened with his eyes and placed his hands in his pockets.
“Exactly! The use of ‘We’” Arthur chuckled as he put down his glass on the antique table in front of him and stood up.
Harry can feel that Poppy is about to whip out her gun any second now so he gives Arthur his famous glare as one last warning.
“Me and Arthur are not competing against each other. You weren’t supposed to kill us and well our plan went sideways. You really should take a seat.”
Poppy despises all this unnecessary speech; she prefers getting to the point. She felt Harry’s arm below her waist beckoning her to rest on the sofa, which she did reluctantly.
“We wanted to offer you a business deal, yet we both knew that you’d refuse to discuss business at an event like this so we sent you here for a job that went wrong.” Although not everything was clicking, Harry and Poppy relaxed as this cannot be a setup.
“We didn’t expect you to bump into each other, we were intending on getting you here before one of you strikes but we forgot how professional you are.” Henry explained as he enjoyed his drink.
“I was shocked by your loyalty Poppy; your warning caught me off guard. I had to fake fleeing away and I can tell you and Azrael had some fun.” Henry and Arthur held back a chuckle, but were they to blame?
Poppy and Harry were a sight, the damage reaching their clothes and body or even face and hair in Harry’s case. They needed a fresh shower, a first aid kit, and a change of clothes.
“What kind of business did you want to suggest?” Harry’s deep voice echoed in the room and nothing could be heard except for the burning of the wood, the occasional gulps, and the faint music from the ball.
“As I mentioned before me and Arthur are not rivals but we have some tough competition, which you were handling individually at first but then shit went down like security systems crashing down, assassination attempts, you name it.”
They can feel it. They know what the deal is but they’re pushing it to the back of their head.
“ The point is… we want you to work as partners and kill whoever we consider a threat to us.”
And here it goes.
“Fuck no!”
“Absolutely not”
They both shouted at the same instant, their bodies tensed and Harry’s jaw was clenching. This suggestion is their worst nightmare, it is known that Assassins work alone, besides the history these two share does not help.
“Listen! Assassins will soon be after you not just us. We are aware that you work alone but this will catch everyone off guard. You’re the best of the best, imagine the power you’d have if you teamed up.” Arthur stood up and the desperation in his tone cannot be masked.
“Send an army my way, I dare you. None of the shit you said fazes me.” Harry might’ve gotten a boner right there and then at her words.
“You might say that but it’ll get so much harder, if you team up it will be in your favor and ours. Plus you’ll get paid double.” Harry and Poppy gave each other a side look before glancing at Arthur and Henry who desperately want them to become partners.
“Why should I put up with him?” Harry did not say one word, he simply offered his charming grin, with his body leaning forward and hands joined together over his knees. There was almost no gap between him and Poppy, and her scent was making him dizzy again.
“You’ll get paid double, easier missions, less time more efficiency…”
She might not be very keen on the idea but she isn’t entirely opposed. It is evident through her face and he knows that if she truly didn’t want it, she would’ve walked out the moment they proposed the idea.
Arthur and Henry are dying for her approval. Harry isn’t picky with his jobs and he can’t say that he’s not intrigued by the idea of working with her. He can already imagine a few scenarios…
“Fine. I’ll be the lead in this, I want two copies of each file, a team of security and spies along with a ride in every mission for precautions. New identities and passports, you know the drill, Henry.” She stood up as soon as she finished talking not batting an eye to her new partner whose opinion she did not ask for.
Arthur lifted his body up and clasped his hands together as a thank you to Poppy while Henry was already pouring another drink in celebration. For a moment they all noticed how Harry has been mute since he sat on the sofa.
“You’re in Az ,right?” Arthur raised his eyebrow in doubt.
“Whatever the lady says.” He shrugged and got up, swiping a hand through his long hair. His cheek is slightly bleeding and the tension between him and Poppy just got worse.
“No handshake?” Arthur smiled at Poppy and extended his hand to her which she eyed with doubt.
“I don’t shake hands with businessmen. One line out of the way and I’ll have your head hung in your office.” And with that, she walked towards the door.
“Take him with you to break the ice,” Henry suggested making her stand still sending a glare towards them.
“There are hundreds of hotels -“
“But you’re partners now!! Go on order anything too my treat.”
“I have enough money to buy the hotel asshole” She didn’t wait for any further comment before leaving the room and listening to Harry’s footsteps that followed.
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Don’t ask her how they arrived at her hotel room, how the eyes of strangers judged them for their looks, or how she’s thinking about stabbing him because he’s already relaxed on her bed.
An exit was waiting for them at the end of the corridor, it was another one of her good luck incidents, or else she would’ve terrorized all the guests. Their ride was a motorcycle. Yes, you read that correctly.
The same vehicle she craved to use to get to the event, was waiting for them outside. It belonged to Harry and naturally, he did not allow her to drive it. He gave her his helmet and jumped on the vehicle without one and instructed her to wrap her arms around his torso which she did right after mocking him and throwing curse words.
Upon their arrival at the hotel reception, he asked the employee for a ‘honeymoon suite’ before Poppy dragged him by his arm to the elevator with an irritated expression.
He did not hesitate to immediately relax on her king-size bed. Harry knows a thing or two about her, and if anything gets her more infuriated than losing a physical fight it would be banter and mockery.
They share a fueled history that goes back to their teenage years, as baby assassins. They grew up in the same institute that recruited orphans and trained them to be professional assassins for the government. Poppy and Harry were one of the very few that managed to escape and work solo.
They were inseparable, a pair of crows who only stuck together. That is until the years of innocence fled and the years of rivalry arrived. There would be only one place for who’s worthy, a place that they fought for yet ended up fleeing from.
Even then, they would always be connected. Bumping into each other whether on a job or in public, hearing the other’s name at an event, or the usual interaction which is fighting every time they come across each other.
She can’t help but think about the past in the light of the twisted turn of events. When was the last time she sat down with him like this so peacefully?
“When you were fourteen and pretended to be asleep at night only to sneak to the rooftop together and stargaze.” Her mind spoke to her.
She let out a huff and looked down at the men’s clothing the hotel sent before grabbing them and throwing them at his face.
“Get up and shower, I want to use the bathroom too.” He stretched his limbs to taunt her and walked really slowly to the bathroom before yelling ‘Don’t miss me’ and locking the door behind him.
The sound of the shower became distant as her mind traveled to memories she buried long ago. She took a deep breath ,retrieved her bag and began cleaning her tools. A groan left her lips when she realized that one of her push daggers is still with Harry who is taking his sweet time in the shower.
The now clean gun fell from her hand as her guard went down and the memories invaded her brain. His scent was suffocating her, not his tom ford perfume despite it being addictive. She can’t even explain it without looking mad but Harry has a scent of his own, his skin releases an odor that only she can catch.
She took off her ruined dress and discarded it in the corner, then stood in her corset and panties in front of the mirror. Mirrors are her enemy yet she needs their help in this moment. She twists her arm as the glass reveals the Poppy tattoo.
He gave her that name. Told her that she can be delicate yet a symbol of death at the same time. In institutes you didn’t earn a name, you earned a number but this name was her little secret with Harry and she couldn’t resist having it inked to her skin years after their fallout.
“Poppy?” The name immediately caught her attention opting her to turn around and forget all her worries at the sight of him.
A white towel was wrapped around his hips, but it was tiny. She can spot the steam from the hot water on his skin that is glistening and has become a tattoo shop. The towel is sitting so low on his hips where a fern tattoo lays. His hair is wet and if she didn’t know him, she’d think he’s a prince.
Don’t stare at his biceps Poppy!
Oh god, his V line. He had a small waist that morphed into a toned V line holding a small part of the fern tattoo and revealing a trail of trimmed hair.
His knuckles were beginning to bruise and the cut on his cheek needs some medical attention but he didn’t seem to care as his eyes tried to decode Poppy’s shaken expression.
“If we’re out of hot water I’m going to stab you.” She walked past him right into the bathroom and even though he had some good comebacks up his sleeves, he was too entranced with her strolling in just a corset and tiny panties. And her skin… so flawless even after an eventful night. He had to close his eyes before images of the bruises he would leave on her body came running to him.
He never imagined that he’d be in a room again with her, acting so civil and being okay with her presence, he also can’t imagine how this would be the reality for a while.
They are partners now. Harry knew that history would repeat itself.
Even though he pushed the previous thoughts about giving her bruises away, his mind trailed again to her body. His ears were too interested in the sound of water and he wondered how her skin would be after a shower.
Was he acting a bit primal? Perhaps, but spare him a minute to comprehend the shift in his life.
He spotted her bag on the bed left unguarded for him to check. Funnily enough, he knows it and is aware of the layers it has because he may or may not have broken into her apartment throughout the years on her birthday and left her a Poppy flower in this bag.
Still, she never changed the code number for the bag which is the number of the room they shared in the institute.
He still has her dagger tucked in the edges of the towel, if he had left it in the bathroom, she would’ve taken it. He can see how she cleaned her gun and he decided to do the same to his. He then placed it on the bedside table and changed into the shorts the hotel provided. Poppy is still taking her sweet time in the shower so why not annoy her a bit?
He unfolded the lower layer of the case, revealing all of her beauty products, and began searching for something he might use. He picked out an expensive hair serum and poured a generous amount of drops on his wet hair before placing it back in her bag.
Poppy came into the room a few minutes later eyeing him up and down with a robe hugging her body. He’s not even sure how that is considered a robe. It’s too fucking short.
The tension is through the goddamn roof.
She pulled out a body lotion from her bag and let out a small sigh once her eyes fell on his face. She turned around towards the bathroom before coming out with a first aid kit.
“Come here, your cheek needs cleaning.” It isn’t a deep wound; the human face has a large number of veins so if her skills weren’t perfect, he’d be in the ER.
“Look at you Poppy getting so delicate.” She responded by pressing a cotton full of hydrogen peroxide to his place of injury and yet he didn’t flinch once.
She raised her leg placing it between his thighs to get in a comfortable position and focus on cleaning him. But her smell is too much for him and her soft skin is right in front of him.
He inched his face just enough to press his mouth to her knees feeling her shudder. Poppy didn’t jerk herself away or move, she continued to clean his wound with her hand delicately holding the side of his neck.
The silence between them was comfortable unlike being around other people. When they didn’t have a knife to each other’s throats, it would be just like this. Except that this is their first time in a decade.
She placed a small bandage on his cheek, smoothing her fingers over it even though she was done there. There’s something in her eyes that tells him she’s feeling nostalgic and his thumb rubbing on her leg isn’t helping.
She allowed herself to stare at his emerald irises with her hand still situated on the side of his neck. He gave her a soft look as if he was saying, ‘It’s me, Poppy’.
Would it be so bad to fold?
“You can order food service if you’re hungry.” She stepped away from him pretending to busy herself with packing her case when she needs the products.
“Don’t avoid me. We’re partners.” She can feel him walking towards her slowly.
Being around him and talking so normally made her heart ache and think back to when they were kids. He was her first love. He broke her heart many times after that but perhaps not enough as the yearning keeps tugging at it.
“I missed this…” Her back was so close to his chest and his breath is sending shivers throughout her body.
She didn’t offer him any response as she turned around to face him, raising her siren eyes to look for a hint of deception. Instead, she found the eyes of a sixteen-year-old Harry who was eager to give her his first kiss.
“You were fighting with me less than an hour ago. Do you expect me to believe this emotional show of yours?”
She might as well twist a knife in his heart.
“It was my job and it never stopped me from missing you.” The words flowed smoothly out of his lips, it’s not that he had them memorized but his heart was faster than his brain.
“And your job ten years ago? What was it!” Her fists were clenched and she wished his eyes didn’t make her so weak. She’s not sure if she could hold the eye contact any longer.
“To protect and care for you.” His strawberry lips offered her a confession that was so effortless to say.
She wasn’t particularly upset or even furious about their relationship. Growing up with him was irreplaceable. Even when they parted ways and slowly became foes, they never inflicted serious damage upon each other. It was a simple game for them, to bicker and fight, maybe leave some scars as a memoir but they never got sentimental again. To hear him telling her about his yearning all these years made her knees and heart weak.
Her lips morphed into a pout, her siren eyes gave him a look of regret and he can feel the tears that are threatening to fall. She was never one to communicate and some things stay the same.
Like his infatuation.
“I’ve been waiting years for this Poppy.” He brought himself closer to her so that his forehead rested against hers with their eyes piercing into each other.
“To be my partner? For me to order you around?” The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.
There she was. His little devil.
“No. This.” His voice grew deeper as his skin lit up on fire upon coming in contact with hers. He buried his face in her neck taking a long deep breath while his fingers travelled along her waist.
Their bodies forming a sort of intimate contact while breathing in each other’s scent was more dangerous than any natural disaster.
Even their pheromones can no longer be tamed.
Rain is an accomplice in murder, and on this night the target isn’t a human. It’s an emotion.
Hatred.
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harry-styles-obsessed · 9 months
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Don’t you call him baby
Request: hi! I’ve been obsessed with the song ‘cherry’ lately and was wondering whether you could write something about it? I’m so hyper fixed on it and AH I just need something smutty and angsty if possible? Thank you!!
A/n: I haven’t mentioned it but I went for a job interview… and… I got the job!!! Hooray!!
Minors please do not interact! 18+ only. Thank you.
Warnings: smut, exes, toxicity, mention of arguments, angst… jealous Harry. Protective Harry. Dominant Harry. Degrading/ praise. Cheating kinda? Rough… as well. Very sexual scenes. (Make up sex pretty much) if this isn’t your thing/ it makes you uncomfortable please scroll past. But if you read and are easily effected by some strong/ tense scenes please read at your own discretion. Much love, A. x
Harry styles x fem! Reader
Inspirations from cherry:
don’t you call him baby
did you know I still talk to them?
“How is she?” His voice cut through the silence, Harry had decided to meet up with one of your closest friends. It took a lot to convince her but she eventually gave in to his constant requests of knowing how you were doing. Noa sat opposite Harry her chin resting on her knuckles as she gazed at him “harry I know you care about her… but y/n wants to move on. It’s time to move on.” She spoke calmly and sensibly. She never got involved between drama or toxic relationships but you had been constantly stressing over the fact that Harry was so bluntly concerned about you. You hated it. In fact you despised him and wished he would go and find a new girl to date… but Harry didn’t want that. He didn’t want a new girl. He wanted you. “I know, Noa.” He muttered to her his hands rubbing against each other slightly before he sighed “is she okay though? In herself? I haven’t seen her in a while…”
Noa stared at the man, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he only wanted the best for you. “She’s okay.” She nodded her head smiling, “she’s happier.” Those words tore him apart, selfishly so, you were happier without him? That alone was difficult to comprehend yet he forced a smile “that’s good.” Noa nodded her head “yeah… she misses you though. I’m sure you both miss each other. But she’s moved on… and you have to as well.” Harry should’ve listened- but those words but she’s moved on made his heart plummet. What did she mean by that? Did you have a new boyfriend? Someone who made you happier than ever? Was Harry truly not enough for you? He felt jealousy creeping up within him yet on his perfectly sculpted face was nothing but calmness. But under that was a storm brewing.. messy and huge. “She’s got a boyfriend?” He soon asked gawking at her and Noa gazed at him, clearly not wanting to discuss anymore and Harry quickly cut her off before she could’ve said anything else:
“You know what. Never mind… I’m sorry it’s none of my business.” he smiled falsely before shaking his head “it was nice meeting up with you again. We’ll have to do it some other time… yeah?” Or in better words- we’ll meet up to talk about y/n more. Harry didn’t like to admit it but he was a tad bit crazy. But in a way that he adored you and loved you… so much so no one else could love you the way he loved you… he was frankly obsessed with you. You were the one who made him happiest. The one to make his whole world light up around him… you dragged him out of the darkest pits of hell and saved him. You both had history with each other and that was clear. He missed you. It angered him that you had moved on so quickly but he had decided then and there that he wasn’t going to let you live that down… he would make you realise all over again just how much you missed him… all of him.
And so that’s exactly how it played out. Harry still had a key to your apartment from when you were together and so he allowed himself in before situating himself on your bed laying against the headboard as he simply awaited for you to stumble upon him. He wasn’t sure how you would react… maybe scream at him? Hit him? Punch him? But he found himself praying that you would kiss him and tell him you loved him still. But love wasn’t that easy now was it? He was a jealous man but he refused to see his jealousy. You didn’t even split from each other because of anything horrible like cheating or whatever- it was just a dumb argument. But seeing it now it was incredibly stupid and if Harry could’ve turned back time then he would’ve. All he wanted for you was for you to be happy.
About twenty minutes passed, you had just finished up a small date with your new boyfriend. You loved him. You truly did. But he wasn’t Harry. You missed Harry terribly, neither of you spoke to each other and every day you found yourself wanting him more and more. You missed the smell of his cologne, the way he would run his fingers through your hair… you just missed him. A soft sigh left your lips your key held in your hand as you slowly pushed the key into the keyhole before unlocking the door and opening it. You shrugged your jacket off, hanging it up and locking the front door before heading straight for your bedroom. You were tired and just wanted to sleep… but you missed Harry. Sleep usually helped ease your mind but no matter what it would always be difficult. You were craving his love, his attention, his touch… all of him. But that was so wrong, wasn’t it? You slowly walked into your room before freezing at the sight your eyes widening, lips slightly parting as you stared at the man on your bed. The man you still adored. You blinked, a shaky breath leaving your lips. “Hi,” he spoke with a smile but you just stared unable to react before eventually you shook your head “Harry you need to leave.” You murmured softly but the way his eyes travelled up and down your body subtly made your heart flip upside down your breath catching in your throat. “You want me to leave?” He asked raising his brows slightly “Harry please…” he slowly stood up from the bed as he walked towards you “you’re just saying that.” He murmured gently his eyes searching yours that had a look of need, urgency and fire in them “I know you. I love you. I want you.” Your lips remained parted and you stared at him in shock… he wanted you? What did he mean by that? “What do-“ “I mean I really… really want you.” The look in his green eyes told you it all, your wide doe like eyes widening even further before you shook your head lightly “I can’t Harry. I’ve got a boyfriend…” you spoke quietly and the man smiled slightly “I’m aware of that, sweetheart…” but before you could’ve even asked how he knew he was already talking again “he doesn’t give you what you need, does he? He doesn’t fuck you long and hard right? He doesn’t grab you by the throat and tell you who you belong to. Does he?” His eyes bored into yours your breathing now more frantic, your stomach fluttering dangerously before his slender ring adorned fingers reached up gently grabbing a hold of your chin before he leaned in looking more deep into your eyes “does he?” You blinked your eyes, breathing faster now before you shook your head an accomplished smirk forming on those pretty lips of his, “do you want that? Do you need that? Hm you pretty thing?” And you found yourself nodding frantically feeling butterflies travel elsewhere throughout your entire body, some fluttering down straight into your already throbbing heat, eyes wide as you clenched your thighs together attempting to be subtle about it whilst also attempting to add enough pressure to take the edge off of it.
“Good thing I’m here then” he spoke smiling before he pulled you in roughly his lips colliding with yours in a hot passionate kiss, the kisses were slightly sloppy, your hands resting against the sides of his neck as he soon wrapped his arms around your waist gripping onto you tightly, his fingers soon sliding underneath your T-shirt which he soon slid up your body before discarding it on the floor, which were then followed by your jeans his hands gliding up and down your body skilfully, creating all those little goosebumps which had your knees weak, his lips remained connected to yours before he trailed the sloppy kisses down to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses against your soft skin before he pulled away gazing into your eyes “get on the bed. Get comfortable.” Those words alone had another flurry of butterflies consume your stomach and you rather quickly got onto the bed, backing up until your back was against the headboard your hungry eyes remaining on his “good girl, I see you can follow orders hm?” See how long that lasts… your eyes remained on him trying to guess what he was going to do next but you watched as he remained standing still, hands lightly crossed over his chest his eyes scanning shamelessly all over you watching how your chest raised and fell so angelically whereas your thighs clenched together so incredibly tightly. He didn’t speak, allowing you to listen to your heavy breathing and indefinitely the sound of your heart racing in your ears. He found it adorable how your cheeks were already flushed…. He hadn’t even started and you were already a mess. “Oh my poor pathetic baby, hm?” A soft chuckle left his lips before he walked closer to the bed until his knees were touching against the end of it “reach down.” He demanded you feigning a slight confused look. “Don’t be stupid, darling. Use that pretty head of yours… you know what I’m asking of you.” You remained still. Eyes on him your breathing increasing all over again before he smirked “fine. Play with yourself.” Those words made your eyes widen, but your hand, like it was being controlled by a puppeteer slowly crept down, your hand moving your panties to the side your fingers immediately getting to work. You were already soaked… embarrassingly so. Your head lightly tilted backwards, lips parting as a low gasp left your lips your fingers gliding teasingly up and down, before one started circling around your clit a whimper leaving your lips.
Harry’s hungry eyes remained on you, watching as you played for him, watching with careful eyes. Listening to your reactions… “mhm just like that sweetheart. Just like that.” He spoke softly his lips parted as he just watched you play for him. “You sensitive baby?” His tone was accusing, your brows furrowed slightly as you were too lost in your own pleasure. Usually your fingers didn’t help you whatsoever but with Harry just watching it made the moment more intense. More insane. Incredibly hot. You didn’t respond, making the man tilt his head to the side “hm? Is that a no? Darling you know that I know you. You cant fool me…” he watched your brows furrow deeper and deeper and he smirked before slowly walking round to the edge of the bed where his large hand soon wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from toying with yourself before he used two of his fingers to drag up and down your slit, your hips jolting and he smirked cockily staring down at you, your eyes glossy from the ceasing of pleasure “you are sensitive” he analysed gently before chuckling gently “how many times?” His tone was dangerous and your lower lip trembled “I-I don’t know…” you whispered softly and he stared deeply into your eyes “so you played with yourself… yesterday? Did you?” Your cheeks became flushed again and he chuckled “darling don’t go shy on me. It’s okay if you did…” his tone was so comforting but you knew him as much as he knew you. “I did… but…” you paused and he raised a brow “but?” He trailed off and you studied his eyes “I played whilst thinking of you.”
Those words stunned the man yet they also turned him on that much more the bulge in his jeans larger, making his jeans more uncomfortable. “Jesus Christ baby…” he whispered before he abruptly and without warning grabbed a hold of your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips were dangling off of the edge before he helped pull your panties off his knees soon buckling as he knelt down, pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders arms locking around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer “don’t you dare close your eyes. Look at me. Got it?” You nodded your head furiously, feeling his breath fan against your sopping cunt “verbal sweetheart c’mon” he cooed out and you whimpered “yes.. yes!” He smiled large hands gripping onto your thighs before he lowered his mouth down to your aching core “what a good girl hm?” He spoke, before his licked a stripe up your slit a low groan leaving his lips before his lips wrapped around your clit, tongue starting to flick mercilessly against it as he began sucking against it slightly your head tilting backwards in awed making the man you dream about slap your thigh slightly reminding you to keep your eyes on him- your eyes locking with his as he stared deeply into your soul. Whilst doing that, his fingers paid close attention to the hole that clenched around nothing before his slid one of his fingers in beginning to thrust in and out slowly and carefully, your eyes squeezing shut “y/n…” he growled out sending vibrations throughout you and you moaned out, yet your head flew forwards eyes locking with his again, a second finger being eased in, his fingers thrusting in and out steadily and slowly- curling ever so slightly hitting that spot within you making your back arch slightly from the fact that you had been so touch starved recently and you were now getting what you wanted. Exactly what you wanted. His eyes pierced into your own and you panted, he felt the way you clenched around him and instantly quickened his pace soft whines leaving your lips “louder” he demanded, your whimpers turning into loud moans as your hips attempting to buck up into his mouth and fingers yet from the grip he hand on your thighs you stood no chance.
“h-harry I-I’m gonna-“ you felt the coil tighten to the point you knew it was inevitably going to break, but all that came to a agonisingly teasing halt as Harry stopped. Your desperate body writhing, attempting to get more of his touch. “Ah ah… you don’t get to cum. Not just yet.” His eyes bored into yours and he smirked your flushed face contorted with need, before a little chuckle left his lips “tell me why you want to? Why you deserve to, hm?” Your eyes glared into his hungrily that soft smirk on his perfectly sculpted face “i-I’ve been good… i- I just need you…” you whined out in that whiny voice that he loved so much, his head soon tilting wanting to hear more of it “and? Come on baby, sooner you get it over with sooner I can make you feel good…” he was so arrogantly calm about it all, yet under all of that facade he was wanting to fuck you hard. You breathed heavily, panting, eyes squeezing shut as moans of need left your lips before you panted out a very soft: “I love you…”
And that was all he needed to hear before he tapped your thigh three times with his index finger, asking for you to move, and so you did- laying on your back on the bed. You watched as he took his belt off, his clothes being discarded hurriedly but rather lazily all at the same time your mouth practically watering at the sight of him before he clambered on top of you, lips smashing against yours, your lips moulding with his- connecting like the last piece of a puzzle before he aligned his cock with you before he thrusted in, your eyes instantly rolling to the back of your head, your legs locking around his waist- nails digging into his back as you panted heavily “fuck fuck fuck” you whined out, soft grunts leaving his lips his face buried slightly into the crook of your neck his hair a mess making him look that much more hot “feel so good” you spoke breathing heavily as he found a perfect rhythm the only sounds being a mixture of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin. He left kisses against your neck, hickeys being littered all over your warm silky skin. “Don’t call him baby again… don’t… don’t…” he spoke through slight grunts “do you understand me? Don’t want you seeing him again.” His tone was dangerous, possessive and needful, you nodded your head weakly your walls clenching desperately around him your nails scratching into his back “good girl. Good girl.”
“Who makes you feel this good?” “You do Harry…” your voice was pathetically weak from the pleasure rocketing throughout you and soon enough that coil was tightening all over again, his thrusts had become more sloppy and his moans were growing louder. His lips connected with yours, his head slightly pulling back making a string of saliva pull from both of your lips before snapping as he kissed you again “cum…” he groaned out against your lips and just like that the euphoria wrapped around both you and him your moans being muffled by his lips, his loud moans soon too being muffled as he dug his teeth into your shoulder, his thrusts continuing- helping you through your high before he stopped, body slumped against yours, heart to heart- bodies hot and sweaty your lips slightly swollen from how hard and rough he had kissed them but you didn’t care… the pleasure didn’t stop. It was continuous. But you loved it…
His green eyes soon met yours and you smiled lazily up at him his hand soon cupping against your cheek “love you so much” he muttered softly and you smiled pressing a gentle kiss to his lips “love you too…” your eyes searched his before he kissed you again “missed you.” He murmured softly and to say those words were highly reciprocated was an understatement. You both missed each other terribly… and finally… you were back together again. Finally.
Literally my first time writing long smut so please excuse how terrible it is😭 hope you liked it! Anyways if you’d all like a part two or another smutty story then lmk! Or just send in a request! All the love always, Amber x
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Harry’s Home
Part II.
Read Part 1 Here!
Pairing/AU: Roommate!Harry // Roommate!Y/N
Word Count: ~ 8.7k words
⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Lots of Flirting, Pining, Sexual Desire, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Mentions of Body-Type Biases, Fantasies of Rough Sex, Breeding Fantasies, ~Slow Burn~
My mom adores Harry (probably more than me, sometimes) and she’s confident that we’ll fall in love and get married within the next year or so. To Harry’s chagrin, his own mother seems to also be manifesting some sort of whirlwind romance to ignite within this cottage. Not to brag, but Anne Twist has already practically declared me as her daughter-in-law. She mirrors my mother’s doting of Harry, and I don’t mind it one bit. I’ve even heard Anne and Harry talking about me a few times during her brief visits to the states. Always pleasant things, thankfully.
One time, they were chatting in the kitchen while I’d just passed them to continue laundry in the room across the hall. I could hear every word—whilst I’m sure that Harry hoped to God I couldn’t hear any of it…but these walls are just so thin. 
“‘Scuse me, guys…just gotta get these goin’.” I smiled, making my way down the hallway with Harry’s clothes hamper. Before I’d passed by, I made eye contact with Harry for a brief moment. My heart sank as if I was nervous all of a sudden. I didn’t know why, but things felt weird that day. Between Harry and I, I mean. Normally, I wouldn’t even bat an eye whilst giving the man a quick greeting in passing. I lived with him, he was the first and last person I’d see and speak to every day, so I was used to his presence being a constant in my life. But that afternoon, something just seemed off. 
Maybe it had something to do with his mom visiting us—uh, I mean, him. Ugh, I’ve gotta quit making a habit out of grouping Harry and I together as a package deal. We’re not a couple. No matter how much his mom hugged and doted on me like I was her own daughter, the line was already drawn when we signed our lease.
That’s not to say that Anne has ever made me feel uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. It was strange how natural and familiar it felt to be around Harry’s mom. I suppose one thing that bothered me is that she’d tend to assume things about our relationship. And so the unavoidable reality of my roommate’s mother suspecting us to be more than just friends certainly made me a little uncomfortable. Actually, insecure would be a better word for it. I was insecure that I may have been too obvious in the way I care for Harry, and that I was stupid for even having thought he could feel anything similar towards me. 
I teetered between optimism and self-pity constantly. Men could be so complicated. Nay. Harry could be so complicated. But that’s beside the point. The real issue was the growing tension in the air…the flickering flame left unattended, slowly eating away at both Harry and myself for far too long. And Anne, of all people, would be the first one to bring attention to it.
Once I’d made it to the laundry room, I popped open the washing machine and dumped out all of Harry’s dirty clothes. I was truly minding my own business, drifting off in my own little world; but then I was yanked out by Anne and Harry’s restless banter that echoed down the hall and disturbed my relaxed state of autopilot.
“Oh, you’re cheeky, Harry.” Anne hummed. Even though they couldn’t see me anymore, my ears still worked fine from where I was. I don’t think Harry’s mom really intended to be quiet anyway. “What?” Harry asked after sighing. “Oh, don’t act so shy, dear. I’ve seen the way you look at her.” As the last words exited her mouth, it was like a light switched on inside of her. She gasped and swatted at Harry’s shoulder—him instantly reacting with a, “What I do?!” Anne then scoffed, “Why didn’t you tell me the two of you finally got together?!” A kaleidoscope of butterflies danced around the soft curls that cascaded down my shoulders and traveled south to tickle my belly. 
Harry looked at me…like that? In front of his own mother? So he wasn’t just a horny bastard…he was actually attract—
—“What on Earth are you talking about? Me ‘n her?!” Harry gestured towards the hallway. Anne pursed her lips and nodded. “Oi, tha’s ridiculous! Y/N and me?! Tha’s just…that’ll never happen…”
Oh, um…never mind.
“…‘Sides, mum, you’re mad if y’think I’d start somethin’ up' with my housemate. Just be makin’ things weird…She’s not even my type, anyway.”
I silently sighed out a breath and roughly dumped out the rest of Harry’s dirty clothes into the washer, a faint scowl adorning my face.
“Yeah, right. You can’t possibly expect me to believe any of that rubbish. I think you’re just afraid of getting hurt again.” I could tell by the sadness in her voice that she was frowning. “Oh, my poor baby boy. Don’t you think you should put yourself back out there, Lovie?” 
“No, no. It’s not because I’m afraid, mum. I’m just…I’m too busy. Vol. 6 is working on an autumn collection, and I’m in charge of the ad design. I’ve got a lot on my plate, you know?”
To be fair, Harry was actually getting pretty busy at work. He’d told me about the new campaign he’d been working on and how it needed to be approved by corporate by October. That meant he had a couple weeks to complete it. I was excited for him, as he’d become the brand’s lead marketing strategist earlier this year, which had provided him with a lot of decision-making power in his department. Surprisingly, the promotion made him slightly more humble, but in-turn, he was also a bit crankier at home. I think it was because he was overworking himself, honestly.
Anne huffed and said, “Well, not everything in life has convenient timing, dear. Y/N could get scooped up tomorrow and you’d have completely blown it f’yourself!” The front door opened and it sounded to me that they’d slowly made it out onto the front porch. Harry kept the door open, as there was a slight chill in the air and I assumed he was also feeling a bit flushed at the time, so the breeze was welcomed. Since Harry didn’t shut the door, I was still able to listen to their conversation from the laundry room. Though, their voices became less intelligible due to the distance and the outdoor ambiance.
“Oi, mum! Please keep your voice down!” I found it funny how Harry was claiming he had nothing but platonic feelings for me—that he was too busy and we weren’t compatible in that way at all—yet, he sounded so desperate to ensure I wasn’t able to overhear their discussion. If he didn’t care about me romantically, why would he be so adamant about keeping Anne’s volume down? Why would he be so defensive about it? It’s not like he’d be lowballing if he were to go for me. I may not be perfect, but I don’t have to be a skinny little model with legs for days—my body has curves to die for, and no man has to worry that he’ll break me in half. My feelings are fragile, but I can take a good, hard fucking any day of the week. Hell, I’d take it every day of the week if it were up to me. And for his information—I have…it’s just been a while…
“She’s doin’ your laundry, for bloody sake!” That was true, I was doing his laundry. But that was only because Harry’s always insisted that I do it. Ever since this one time when we were sitting on the couch together, and I was falling asleep watching tv. Attempting to get more comfortable, I’d stretched my legs out towards him and laid back against a pillow and the couch arm. Luckily for me, Harry was nice enough that night to let me get away with using him as a leg rest without any complaints. I also remember him starting to doze off. Instead of pushing me out of the way and going up to bed, he squeezed himself to lay behind me and spooned me. He nuzzled his face into my hair and into my neck, and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. I then heard the rumble of his sleepy voice as he said, “Mmh…you smell…s’sweet…kinda like vanilla…I like tha’…wanna smell ya all the time…you should wash my clothes f’me so I can smell you on me wherever I go…”
At the time, as I laid there in a soft daze with Harry’s strong, inked arms wrapped around my middle, his stubble scratching my neck, and something firm rocking back and forth ever-so-gently against my ass…my heart soared at his words, and I couldn’t bear to deny him his request.
Later, standing alone with an alert mind sans sexy, tattooed, British rake pressed tightly against my plush body—I was no longer swooning. Harry was perfectly capable of using the same combination of detergent, softener, and scent beads that I use. If he desired my aroma so badly, the ingredients would’ve been all he needed. I guess he was in charge of cooking and the dishes, so there wasn’t really an imbalance of responsibilities. But, damn. What a doormat I'd been for going through with that. He may be insanely hot, but he’s still just as stinky as the rest of them. Sure, I’ve been more than happy to fold all his clean clothes for him, but only if they’re fresh out of the dryer and smell all light and powdery like Downy.
“No, no, we split the difference! She’s got the laundry, and I’ve got the, uh…kitchen. Cooking and all tha’.” Even though he was responding defensively, he was only digging himself a deeper hole in front of his mother. She saw right through all those excuses, explanations, etc. So did I. However, Anne was approaching her disbelief a lot differently than how I would’ve if it were me who he was blabbing all that nonsense to. Granted, I didn’t raise him from infancy, nor had I even known the man for very long. But the truth was that Harry’s never been great at confrontation—well, when he’s on the opposite end of it, at least. And so he tended to struggle with his words whenever someone caught him at a time when he wasn’t prepared. 
“I know you’ve got feelings f’her, Gemma knows you do…hell, I bet Y/N even knows it! C’mon, Harry. You two are so cute!” Anne sounded absolutely delighted. I didn’t blame her, but I couldn’t share her same excitement.
Instead of stepping in and saving Harry from any further humiliation from his mother, I decided I’d just stay hidden and let him dig himself out on his own. He’s a grown man, he could fight his own battles. Besides, I was too busy doing his fucking laundry.
“I—Gemma’s a right nutcase, and you know tha’, mum!” Harry whispered.
“Oh, nonsense. Gem knows you even better than I do, Harry!”
I have to give credit to Anne for so shamelessly putting him on the spot like that. Typically, I was the one who tripped over the simplest of words and phrases. It’s just in my timid nature. But it was entertaining to hear someone else—someone who’s normally so haughty and snide—experiencing that kind of social mishap. Especially since that same person tended to use my weakness against me. Karma’s a bitch, huh, Harry?
“That pest—!” He seethed before Anne immediately cut him off.
“—Oi, hey! Be nice to your sister, Harry! You know, one day, when I’m all old and sickly…”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows.
“...You’ll want me to live with her! Keep up that attitude, boy, and you’ll be the one changing my diapers!”
Aw, what a Hallmark moment.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if Harry was white-knuckling the doorknob. I could picture it vividly—deep lines between his brows, nostrils flaring, his free hand held up to his bottom lip, whilst his sweet mother grinned ear to ear and pinched at his adorable, pink cheeks. “...Ooh, but Harry, lovie, it’s so exciting to think that once you and Y/N finally get together, I’ll have a second daughter! God, I just can’t wait for the wedding!” Anne squealed. Harry must’ve glared at his mother right then because I couldn’t hear him say anything. “Do you think you’ll have it here, or will we fly you back home? In that case, it’ll probably need to be a smaller ceremony, hm? ‘Could always have the ceremony in Holmes, and then close family can fly out for a reception here. I’ve heard of couples doing things of that sort…No matter—we’ll cross that road when we get to it.” She beamed with a quick laugh.
My cheeks hurt and I didn’t know why until I noticed I’d been fighting a smile. I felt childish. It was silly to consider all of that stuff even remotely possible—I mean, Harry and I being a couple. Thinking about us getting married…no, no…that could never happen. Just as he said.
“My grandchildren are going to be so beautiful!” Suddenly my fantastical mother-in-law sang from the front porch.
G-Grandchildren..? I’d almost dumped the entire jug of detergent into the washing machine at that one. Marriage was one thing. But giving birth to…m-m-multiple children?! 
I didn’t have any intention to have a baby—let alone babies, plural. I might’ve not wanted children at all…well, maybe one…or I could just forget about the classic American Dream and get a cat instead. I had no clue. But now I was thinking about it. 
More than just thinking about it, though. I was fantasizing.
My mind was locked on the specific scenario of Harry impregnating me. Marking me as his own. Sowing his seed deep inside my fertile cervix. Hot waves of liquid heat then soaked into the crotch of my panties. I guess my body was quite fond of that fantasy.
As the damp cotton between my generous thighs uncomfortably clung to my sensitive skin, I thought I’d might as well just add them to the wash. So I pushed them down my legs and stepped out of them before taking a moment to examine the evidence of my obnoxious downpour of arousal. I bit my lip at the sight of the large, sodden stain. How was that arrogant asshole able to do this kind of shit to me? He wasn’t even in the room!
I scoffed, shaking my head at the humiliating outcome of my sexual deprivation and desperation, and flung the soiled panties into the machine. Good thing I was wearing a dress where the skirt was long enough to cover my newly-bare ass and cunt. Well, provided I wouldn’t be standing at the even slightest off-angle. Lord, I was so grateful to have been out of sight as my body was bent over at the waist, reaching out for the fabric softener.
Whilst I kept on loading the washer, I was also daydreaming about my newest fantasy. 
Maybe I wouldn’t mind bearing Harry’s children…one wouldn’t be so bad, would it? I wouldn’t be all that against weaning off my birth control and letting the inevitable happen. You know…once he’d pump all his hot cum inside me…He could give it to me every morning before work…after work…before bed…in the middle of the night…hell, if he called me on a lunch break asking if I could take another load, I know I wouldn’t be able to resist. Standing commando in the laundry room got me wondering what Harry would do if I just started walking around the house with tiny little shorts and dresses and rompers with nothing on underneath (except for a bra, probably. I’d need the support). I was grateful for my large, gap-less thighs at that moment as I could sense that more moisture was threatening to escape down my wobbly legs.
I was trying my best not to peek out from the laundry room to witness the scene unfolding for myself, but I stood still with my back pressed against the washing machine, Anne’s words repeating themselves over and over again in my head. Whether any of that dreamy nonsense was true…that Harry had romantic feelings for me…it just wasn’t realistic. I had to remind myself that it was just a bunch of harmless teasing. That Harry’s mom was exaggerating the truth for a laugh. Making up elaborate future plans to get his goat. Yeah, that’s all it was. I could understand why she’d push Harry into throwing one of his lil’ man-tantrums—he’s awfully adorable when he’s stuttering and all red in the face, having the hardest time letting it go.
Growing curious, and not being able to hear them as clearly anymore, I moved myself out from the laundry room and closer towards them at the entryway. I still kept myself somewhat hidden behind one of the large wooden columns situated between the hallway and the front door, near the kitchen’s island counter. I was right when I assumed they’d already made it outside onto the front porch. Anne was so close to actually leaving, but I guess Anne preferred to do a Minnesota goodbye that afternoon. She proceeded to gush about Harry’s non-existent future with me, adding more details for wedding planning. Meanwhile, Harry was trying to keep her mouth shut in the most patient and polite manner he’d deemed possible. He’d already stayed silent through the comments about providing his mother with grandchildren, but it seemed as though she wasn’t going to end the discussion any time soon. It was time to take more drastic measures. He knew better than to be disrespectful towards his mother, and he never intended to blatantly disrespect her in any way. Except, by this point, Harry was reaching the limit of his patience. If it meant he could keep his personal business from reaching curious ears, he’d be willing to suffer the consequences.
“ALRIGHT! I GET IT! SHHHHH!” Harry was desperate to get her out the door as soon as he could at that moment. He’d never act that way towards his mother, otherwise. Anne, however, was not in the mood to tolerate his behavior. It didn’t matter that Harry was a full-grown, 30-year-old man. A mother will always be a mother. She gasped at the way her son tried to silence her and lightly smacked his shoulder. I saw it coming from a mile away, and I wasn’t even technically there.
“Don’t you shush your mother, Harry Edward.” She tsk-tsked. “But—!” Before he could even defend himself, Anne cut him off. “—Enough! Zip it.” The snap of her fingers made my mind create a hilarious image of Harry standing there at 6-feet tall, but presenting as a tiny toddler on the verge of a tantrum. I had to muffle my giggle with my hand.
Then, I decided to sneak a quick glance from behind the column. From where I was, I could see Harry leant up against our opened front door, his arms crossed over his abdomen, one set of long, ringed digits pulling at his lips. “Oi, and quit picking your lips! She’ll never wanna kiss you if you’re all chapped ‘n bleedin’, lovie!” 
“Oh, f’fuck’s sake!” He whisper-yelled. I heard him smack his palms down at his sides like some crabby 3 year-old having just been told to behave himself. Anne cracked up at her son’s childish display of whiny defiance. “Alright, well, I’ll head out now. Gotta give you two some alone time.” Harry’s mom hummed suggestively. I rolled my lips into my mouth and fought not to laugh out loud.
Then, I had a feeling that, to Harry, I must’ve seemed to be ‘minding my own business’ for a bit too long in the laundry room, and that I should’ve actually been finished with the chore by that time. Except I’d just been eavesdropping like a nosey-Nellie for their entire conversation. Mildly flustered, I bolted back to the laundry room, opened the dryer, and began to hastily pull all the warm towels and linens out from the front of the machine. I was pretty sure my breakaway was ‘smooth’ enough that they had no idea I was snooping. Well, I knew for sure that Harry didn’t…or at least that’s what I thought. 
It was a good thing towels aren’t able to make much of a ruckus when they’re dropped into a plastic basket. I made sure to fuss around—emptying the lint trap, reorganizing the coat-rack, gathering stray hangers, and clicking the ‘start’ button on the washing machine. I was doing all of that just to make up an internal alibi of sorts for having been putzing for so long. Just in case. 
In the midst of my rush to complete miscellaneous tasks, some of the dust from the lint trap puffed out into the air in front of my face as I was dumping it out, and I had to hold a knuckle to my nose in an effort to keep an incoming sneeze at bay. Eventually, the tickle died down and I could carry on dicking around and acting busy. 
“That’s a wonderful plan, Mum. Be seein’ you.” Harry sighed.
“I LOVE YOU, BOTH!” Anne called out with a slight amplification, intending to also inform me of her departure. “Love you, too!” I responded, almost instantaneously, also at the exact same time as Harry. My voice ricocheted against the walls and I knew I’d been much too quick to speak. My hand immediately slapped over my mouth once the words left my lips. There was no way I could’ve convinced Harry anymore that I’d been genuinely oblivious of their back-and-forth, innocently occupied by a pile of towels for the past 5-10 minutes. If he didn’t already know that I was listening in on them, Harry definitely realized it then. But everything just proceeded as usual—Harry grumbling back at his mother, returning her affections with a huff. 
“Um, also, could you let Gemma know that if she keeps running her mouth, she can bloody forget about her early-access to the autumn catalog? Cheers.”
The door closed after one final guffaw from Anne, and Harry hastily turned the lock before eventually releasing a frustrated breath into his hands. I decided it was a good time to get going with my chores.
A basket of warm washcloths, towels, and sheets was held between my plump hip and my soft hands. As I exited the laundry room, the heat radiating off the freshly-tossed cloth caused a flush of pink to wash over my skin. It was a nice contrast to the cool breeze that had entered through our front door. I made eye-contact with Harry who then let his hands drop from his face once he met my eyes looking through his fingers. Warmth radiated off of him like a space heater, his cheeks were flushed red, and it seemed as though he was burning up—unaffected by the bite of the autumn air.
Maybe he’d also been imagining the two of us making babies. Or maybe he was just mortified by the way his mother assumed our relationship to be more intimate than it truly was. It was possible that the idea of marrying me made him nauseous—and not just in an innocent, nervous way, either. Rather, he was disgusted by imagining such intimate things involving me.
Regardless, I found him adorable whenever he blushed like that. To me, his rare displays of bashfulness brought him back down to earth, and they reminded me of the fact that we were similarly human. Similarly sensitive. Similarly deep in our thoughts. I don’t know why he made a point out of telling Anne that I wasn’t “his type.” Obviously, he hadn’t had much lasting success with whoever fits into his “type,” so maybe he could use someone new for a change... 
As I approached him, I gave him a kind smile and greeted him with a simple question.
“So, what’s for dinner?” I beamed at him sweetly.
Right as I was a meter or two away from him, I suddenly needed to sneeze again. That incessant tickle that tortures the nostrils and sinuses before raging out of the body—it came back to sabotage me in that moment. My previous attempt at holding it in was deemed absolutely useless, as this time it felt like the sneeze doubled in magnitude purely out of spite. My body was fighting against me. The universe was laughing, finding my indignity entertaining. I guess that’s what I get for eavesdropping, huh?
I sniffled a few times—my last efforts to prevent the inevitable. But I had failed. I sucked in a deep breath before “achoo”-ing into my elbow. It was a loud, high-pitched sneeze. If I hadn’t known it came from me, I would’ve assumed the television was turned on in the living room, playing a children’s cartoon. At least I didn’t shoot snot onto my pretty, ruffled sleeves. Or worse, failing to cover my nose and mouth and sneezing right onto Harry. Gotta look for the silver linings, you know?
Unfortunately, my sneeze miraculously sent the blushing boy, who felt so close to my level, back up to his normal self—reuniting him with his high-horse, his pedestal, his soapbox, his big head, and everything else that keeps him standing at a mile taller than me. 
“Oh, my goodness…God bless you…” Harry bellowed, his hand pressed to his heart in mock-aghast. Though he was taunting me, I oddly didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed. He paused and his lips formed the cruelest smirk before he continued, “…my sweet Bunny.” My thighs subconsciously squeezed together at him using his favorite pet-name he has for me. What I’d never let him know was how it was my favorite, too. 
“Humph, thanks.” I sniffled, trying my best to pretend unfazed by the special nickname. His eyes finally drifted down my figure, and it seemed he was parched due to the way he was drinking me in through his pupils. Everything around me, especially Harry, seemed massive compared to my shrinking frame. Perspectives were changing drastically, and I was no longer safe from Harry’s sharp scrutiny. I was aware I’d been the one to place myself under his spotlight—that I had the ability to stay in my lane and keep my nose clean—but I was too weak. I craved his attention. I was starving for it—for every inch of me to be thoroughly inspected and explored by that smug son of a bitch whilst he just stood there and acted like he owned me. 
I wanted him, and I wanted him bad.
My bottom-energy may seem readily accessible to Harry, but that’s only because he’s made it so easy for me to tempt him into his dominance. I just knew he was internally obsessing over how he’d further push me into submission. That’s one of the many reasons why being a sub is so liberating. I’m the motivation. I’m the star of the show. I’m the cum-dump. And God, I’d been wanting for so long to be all of those things and more for Harry. Only Harry.
As I continued walking in his direction, a washcloth accidentally fell onto the floor by his feet. “Ope, sorry…” I squeaked. I stepped up to him so that we were directly in front of one another. I dramatically dropped to a bend at my knees—spreading them widely apart in a bouncy crouch in order to retrieve the rogue towel, giving Harry a nice view of my cleavage as I stretched my arm downwards over my hiked-up skirt, intentionally pressing my breasts together with my straightened elbow. If only he was at a lower angle, then he could’ve seen a different set of drooling lips desperate for his cock…
Christ, alive—I am so glad I wasn’t ballsy enough to accidentally say that out loud.
His eyes followed my movements, but he stood in that same spot unwaveringly, not stepping away even a little bit. My confidence strengthened due to his intense fixation upon me. The basket I was holding at my waist was slightly tipping at the new angle whilst I was reaching for the washcloth. My gaze flickered down to the basket, then back up at Harry. Ambitiously provocative ideas and scenarios flooded my brain. I thought about what would happen if I were to dump the basket onto the floor on purpose just to provoke him. Perhaps he’d tease me for my clumsiness and help me. Or maybe he’d get pissy instead and leave me to my mess. My body reacted out of curiosity and desire before my brain had the chance to refute the idea. Well, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right? 
The towels had poured out onto the floor at Harry’s feet in a massive heap. Letting out a soft gasp, feigning shock, I set the basket aside and knelt all the way down to sit on my knees. I blinked my doll-like lashes back up at Harry, whose stare never left me, and I couldn’t distinguish what he was thinking, let alone feeling. His expression was set in a firm deadpan. He could’ve been on the verge of an outburst, but he also could’ve been plainly unimpressed by my foolish antics. The man was annoyingly skilled at masking when he wanted to be.
I swallowed thickly at the silence. On the inside, I was kicking and screaming with regret. Why did I think he was going to play with me?! Why, after hearing him explicitly tell his mother that he wasn’t interested in me, did I believe it would be a good idea to get on my knees in front of the man?! He obviously didn’t desire me! I was humiliated. Rather than scrambling back onto my feet like a fool, I thought it would be best if I were to just stay in character. Hoe hard or hoe home.
“Oh, no…I’m sorry, Harry.” I managed to peep out without my composure cracking. My voice was small and cute, but it still held enough power to it that I saw Harry’s jaw clench. It worked. I finally saw him narrow his eyes down at me with a tight jaw and flared nostrils. Sure, Sarah warned me that he had a hot temper, but she never told me how sexy he gets when his buttons are pressed. I’d witnessed it myself a few times before this, but my body perceived it differently as I was down on my knees. 
My breathing became harsh, my cleavage rising and falling more noticeably as I anxiously awaited more of a reaction from the man before me. I realistically expected a snarky quip and an eyeroll. Inversely, his face gave the impression that he was frustrated and struggling to keep it together. I was confused as to why he hadn’t raised his voice at me yet. I expected him to be in more of a sensitive mood after his mother embarrassed him just a few minutes prior. I guess all that talk of marriage and babies didn’t have much of a negative effect on him after all. Harry stayed stoic, and his silent glare was locked onto me for a good minute. 60 seconds is dreadfully long when there’s nothing but steamy sexual-tension filling the room. My filthy mind had me imagine he was fighting his urge to throw me down prone onto the cold hardwood, lift my dress up over my ass, and spank me until I was begging him to fuck me. That was certainly my ideal outcome. 
Logically speaking though, I could tell from the speckles of amber in his sage eyes that his emotions were in the red zone—he was angry. It wasn’t because of the mess. No. 
Harry may be a himbo, but he’s not stupid. He knew what I was thinking, he knew why I was acting the way I was, and he definitely wasn’t going to let me get away with any of it.
He was hatching his own plan, and I was convinced a part of it was stretching this out for as long as he could physically restrain his primal instincts. It excited him to play this little game with me. How did I know? Because the bulge in his pants was almost at my exact eye-level, and I had no shame in looking right at it. 
Why wouldn’t I? That was my doing. I deserved to observe my hard work from my delicate little point-of-view.
Feeling a bit more daring after successfully bothering Harry with my suggestive positioning on the floor beneath him, I pouted my bottom lip and grabbed onto the bottom hem of my skirt, dragging it up and down my juicy thighs tauntingly yet sheepishly. The goal was to tease him and guilt him at the same time as if to tip-toe around being blatantly naughty. The breathy moan I’d added on top of it all definitely did him in because I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped at the sound. 
My gaze fell back down to the tightness in the front of his pants for just a second or so, and I couldn’t help the giggles that escaped me. Once the reality of the situation finally set in, I was unable to hide my true intentions.
There I was—on my knees, looking up at him, my tits pushed out, eyes rounded and glossed over, my angelic face adorned with a devil-woman’s lip-biting grin, and the rate at which I was collecting each piece of laundry was just too agonizingly slow to be a legitimate attempt at the task. 
You know what…he could’ve pulled his cock out and fucked my throat right then and there. He could’ve pushed me down onto my back and flipped my skirt up before shoving himself deep inside my needy little cunt. He could’ve demanded me to sit pretty while he jerked off onto my sweet little face. He could have held me down and made me scream so loud that Anne would’ve heard me from her car, which was probably already 10 blocks away and counting at that point.
He had the ability to do whatever he wanted to me; I was physically and mentally incapable of resisting him. And yet, there I sat, my natural essence dripping down the backs of my thighs as Harry had me wrapped around his finger—and he didn’t do a single fucking thing to me. 
And so I huffed, and I repeated what I’d asked him previously before I sneezed, and before he said the one word that tipped me into my subspace.
“Humph…What are we having for dinner?” I asked softly, my voice sultry, yet impatient, and I had my arms crossed over my chest to emphasize my defiance towards him.
Harry took a deep breath and reached out to me. He caressed the side of my face and jaw with his gentle hand. I leaned into his touch as I awaited his answer. I was literally in the palm of his hand—I mean, if he was holding bread crumbs, I’d be licking it all up without a second thought. I would take anything and everything from him. What had this asshole done to me?
I felt his thumb slide up from my chin to fondle my bottom lip. It grazed from side to side for a while before he pulled downwards, tugging my lip down and releasing it. The gesture caused me to keep my lips separated for him. Harry took advantage of the small opening by pushing the same digit through to make contact with my slick tongue, and I instinctually gaped my mouth wider to grant him more access to my drooling entrance. He tapped the pad of his thumb onto my tongue a few times and I moaned at the taste of him—at simply the salt of his skin. My lips wrapped around his thumb and I gently suckled. I can’t even imagine how much of a desperate slut I made myself look like as I slowly nursed on his thumb and hummed against its warm tip with my eyes lazily rolling back. 
He just observed me in my catatonic bimbo state. He stood there and allowed me to put on that pathetic display on the floor at his feet for a few moments longer. I was sure he’d got just as much pleasure out of it as I did, as the sensual act taking place before him had forced a moan out of his throat.
He slowly pulled out of my drooling mouth and rubbed the wetness across my pink lips. 
“D-Did you hear me?” I whispered breathlessly against Harry’s slippery thumb, my lashes fluttering up at him. “Yes, love. Of course I heard you...” He sighed. Then, he bent down to a crouch, lowering himself down to my height so he could speak directly to me. “...But…I don’t think it really matters what we have, hm…?” My brows furrowed in confusion which made him smile. Then he continued, “...You’ll take whatever I choose to give you, won’t you, Bun’...?” 
His fingers raked through my hair lovingly as he said it. His voice was so soft yet the words so deafening at the same time. They pounded against my eardrums and almost knocked me on my ass when they left his lips. 
I just nodded in reply, my eyes and my mouth glistening as rays of the afternoon glow beamed in from the front window and illuminated my irises. Harry’s mouth twitched as if he was fighting a smile. He never once took his eyes off of me. I had all of his attention, and it was addicting.
“...Mmh, sweet girl…never you doubt these ears of mine, either…I can assure you, I hear everything…”
I couldn’t stop the helpless whimper that came out of me. It was like he was speaking to me through code—telling me much more than what his words were able to reveal.
The sun was setting beyond the glass at our home’s entrance. The air around us was almost bitterly chilly. I typically preferred the cold, but it seemed to be much more noticeable at the time. Goosebumps covered my arms, my neck, and my bare knees. I was feeling exposed and naked regardless of my dainty dress providing modesty.
But I could still feel Harry’s hot breath warming the cooled tip of my nose. His closeness cloaked my bare shoulders with security. Even though the wooden floor was bruising me, I felt entirely protected by Harry’s touch. By his presence. By his expressive adoration of me. My heart pulsed so hard against my chest, yet Harry seemed so relaxed. So calm. So strong. I needed him. I could not continue this ridiculous charade of ignoring my natural instincts just so that I can protect my feelings from potential social betrayal. His eyes bore into mine so deeply, so intensely. It was like they held me there, silently commanding me to keep being good for him. I’ve always been such a good girl for him. His best girl. 
Whatever he wanted, I knew at that very second that I’d obey each demand with a goddamn smile on my face. It didn’t matter what he desired to give me. Whatever it was, I would take it, no questions asked. I lived off of his affections, addicted to the attention he provided. Was he as intoxicated by this as I was? Was he holding back? Did he need me, too?
Before I could even stutter out a response, Harry rose back up to his feet—releasing me from his trance and his touch by curling a lock of my hair through his fingers and setting it bouncing free.
“...I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you, a’right?” He assured me kindly. 
I confirmed my understanding with a  subtle nod. My lips rubbed together and I swallowed the abundance of moisture that had threatened to drip down the sides of my mouth.
“Th-thank you.” I just about squeaked out.
With that, he smiled sweetly and backed away into the kitchen.
The next thing I knew, I was still sitting alone near the entryway, my fingers fiddling with the tag of one of the bedsheets from the pile. I was worried I’d made a puddle below me with my arousal, but my legs had been clenched too tightly for any of it to escape past my thighs. My knees were suddenly aching from the stiff support of the hardwood, and the clean linens—of which had been forgotten about since before I’d even taken them out of the dryer—were all cool and wrinkled. I shoved them all back into the basket as quickly as I could and hid in the laundry room until he called out to me that the food was ready. 
Harry was right. I took whatever it was he made for us that night without a second thought. If he hadn’t already served me a plate, I probably would’ve eaten out of his bare hands. My brain had completely shut down for the rest of the evening. I remember I had to take care of the ache between my legs right after our meal, it was so unbearable.  
That reminds me—didn’t he mention something about his ears? 
🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠
I typically get home from work before Harry does, and so my current state of rest and relaxation—coincidentally adjacent to the book I’m holding: My Year of Rest and Relaxation—is an occurrence Harry’s used to coming home to by now. I mean, not that he’s coming home to me. He’s just…coming home, and I also happen to be living here. Speaking of which, I’m situated in my bedroom. I've already slipped into my night clothes—thin, loose pajama pants and an oversized crop tee—laying my back against the cushioned headboard of my bed. 
Suddenly, my ears perk up. The hum and vibration of the garage door opening and closing pulls my attention away from the novel I’d been engrossed in for the past hour towards my empty door frame. Less than a minute later, a door slams, physically startling me, and my posture straightens as if I’m expecting a scolding from an authority figure. I have no reason to react this way, really. It’s not like this is anything out of the ordinary.
Harry’s home.
That’s all. But judging by the door slams, I should prepare myself for the likelihood that Harry’s had a bad day (again). He’s been so overworked lately, but he doesn’t like to talk out his stressors in much detail or duration because it just riles him up more. More accurately, in his own words:
“I appreciate that you care, Bun’. I do…but it’s just too complicated…’s too much to get into right now. Think I’m just gon’ meditate, or whateva’.”
His therapist definitely had more to advise him beyond meditation, but I think that Harry just cherry-picked whatever was closest to what he’s accustomed to…and so he thinks that his isolation method is perfectly justified (as long as he calls it meditation). He’d never admit to that, though; and I’d never call him out on it either. I know better than to poke an angry bear.
Harry believes he can continue living and avoiding the inevitable, but I have a good feeling that he’ll take me up on my offer sometime soon. I just want to help him relax. Help him release some of that built-up tension. However, he prefers to hide himself away whilst simmering in a fuming silence until his primal instincts are numbed away. 
I wished that I could be some sort of Black Widow to his Hulk—although the incredible sulk would be more like it…but he can’t stand being around anyone when he’s angry, not even me—nay—especially not me. 
I can’t help but to feel somewhat unworthy. As if Harry isn’t comfortable enough with me to unpack all of his emotional baggage. Or maybe it’s not that I feel unworthy, per say, but rather that I’m sick and tired of waiting for him to make a fucking move on me already. I’ve been patient for so long. The least he can do is use me as his stress relief…in whatever way he needs to. Honestly, I’m not picky anymore. I’m dying for anything he can give me at this point. 
We've had our arguments as I’ve mentioned. He'll seclude himself in his bedroom for an hour and eventually knock on my door once he’s cooled down to apologize. The vulnerability and innocence he shows me is quite sweet. I appreciate that side of him. And I understand that the man needs his space. It makes sense to me because whenever I’m upset, I’d prefer to be alone as well. So each time Harry taps his rings all melodically against my door after one of his little fits, I always acknowledge him warmly by opening the door and pulling him in for a hug. Emotional compatibility is one of our greatest strengths as…friends. I think he appreciates me in that way, too.
It’s become a thing with us now—ever since the day that I cried. I’ve never shared a closeness like this with another person until I moved in with Harry. We have this mutual understanding that home is a feeling, not a place. And honestly, I’ve internally accepted the fact that it wouldn’t have mattered where we would’ve lived—as long as I was with Harry, I’d be at home. 
To me, Harry’s home.
One time, we brought this topic up…Harry likes to refer to it as the ‘kindness law’ or something like that. Harry began with, “Well, I jus’ wanna treat you the way I wanna be treated—w’kindness.” He sighed, plopping onto his back on his bed and resting his hands behind his head, looking at me. I stood at the foot of his bed with my hands on my hips. He not-so-subtly raked his eyes over my figure and smirked to himself.
“So, you’re gonna be nice to me now that I’m doing your laundry, Styles?”
He chuckled and scooted up the bed until he could rest his back against his headboard. “Mmm, tha’s right. I do have you doin’ my wash. Y’so good to me, Bunny...” I rolled my eyes and turned to walk out, but Harry quickly grabbed my hand in protest. “…Oy, where y’goin’?” I looked back at him over my shoulder and giggled. “What, Harry.” I asked with a bored voice, but a cheeky smile on my face to counteract it. “Wasn’t finisshhhhed-uh!”
I was typically the whiner, so I was immediately cringing at the sound of Harry’s attempt at my art. He playfully tugged on my arm until I clumsily toppled over face-down onto his bed, and he chose my giggle fit as the perfect time to continue his speech about…whatever it was he was talking about.
“Alright, now that the class is all here…let me continue…” He boasted confidently. I slowly calmed down and propped myself up onto my elbows next to his lap, my loose curls messed and my oversized, off-shoulder sweater disheveled enough that he now had an excellent view of what was beneath my sweater: my ample breasts and the plunging push-up bra holding them up. 
I smiled and nodded my head, signaling for him to carry on. He cleared his throat and ran a hand awkwardly through his hair. 
“So…” He hesitated, noticeably struggling to remember what he was saying previously. “Kindness?” I reminded him. “Yes, yes…kindness. Uh…well, uh…Home is where, um, where love’s made, or whateva’, yeah?”
I practically squealed and I added, “Ooh, yeah! Home is where we make all the love, huh, Harry?” Harry just blushed and shook his head. He was trying desperately not to stare at my chest as my lower half sunk down onto the floor and I held my hands and breasts against the edge of his bed whilst I wheezed with laughter. He spent the following 10 minutes with a pillow over his lap and he eventually asked me to leave because he was tired…
The only reason this had been remotely funny beyond our shared childish humor was because neither of us had anything going on in that department for ages. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think we’ve ever discussed each other’s sex lives. But what I know for certain is that both of us have been extremely horny. It’s been dreadful. According to Mitch, Harry hasn’t had sex in at least a solid year and he can’t even remember who he last slept with. 
Apparently, there’s just this vivid memory Harry has of not being able to stay hard, the other person complaining, and then everything suddenly stopped. Harry quickly grabbed all his clothes and just rushed straight out the door to drive back home to me. The only reason I can attest to this rumor of Mitch’s is that I remember when he came home that night. He reeked of cheap, floral body spray, his eyes were puffy as if he’d been sobbing the whole car ride home, and he burst through the door calling out for me. He apologized if he had woken me up, as it was a bit past midnight. However, I was still up watching reruns of The Nanny and nursing on a pint of ice cream when he came home, so I just laughed at him. He told me to pause the show and hurried to his bedroom to change his clothes. I silently thanked God he did because the second-hand perfume stench was stale and it made me a little nauseous. His natural scent is much more pleasant than whatever that girl was wearing. Not to mention a part of me died inside at the thought of Harry being close enough to another girl for that long to come home smelling so strongly of her.
Once he’d switched into new clothes—a fitted t-shirt and flannel pajama pants—he’d climbed up onto my bed and eventually squirmed his way into laying his head atop my thighs. My hand brushed through his soft curls that had loosened into waves by that time. I think he fell asleep in my lap after one episode. It felt so natural in the moment that I, myself, started to doze off. And so I turned the tv off and pulled the man’s lean body down onto the pillows so I could be the big spoon and I held him. We fell asleep like that.
The next morning, I woke up and he’d already left my bed. It hurt me to see he was gone. But I had no reason to take it personally. He’d just had a rough night and he needed some love. I was happy to have been the one to give it to him—even if it was just some innocent, virtually-platonic cuddling, and nothing more. A part of me still ached a little bit whenever I thought back to how Harry chose to release himself from my arms and abandon the cozy nest we’d unintentionally made together. Maybe that was just the lonely part of me feeling that way. I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a while since I’d been sexually intimate with someone as well. I’ve never brought anyone back to the house (neither has he), but Harry always notices when I get dressed up to go out and then come home late…and he knows I was with someone else because—similar to the way his scent had been overcome by a putrid cloak of trashy body spritz—my signature scent would also be significantly altered. It causes a stir in Harry. He knows how childish it is to huff and puff to himself in his bedroom as he waits for my arrival. He knows he shouldn’t be upset when the two of us aren’t romantically involved. And he knows I‘ll always come trudging my way back home…back to my own bedroom where I end up finishing the job for myself. Regardless of his understanding of the situation, Harry refuses to act upon it. Refuses to take initiative. And I have no fucking idea why.
🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠
Part 3
Writer's Notes: Hi, everyone! Ok so there will be at least 2 more parts to this baby. Again, I'm sorry I suck at updating regularly. I have a job and stuff lol. Also I'm a compulsive perfectionist when it comes to my writing, and I'll re-read my work and edit it until it's a million pages long...but I hope y'all like what I post and that you wanna read more! Please like, reblog, follow, send me messages/requests/submissions/anons, and let me know if you wanna be on my taglist! And I appreciate any and all feedback you can give me. Truly. Thank you for reading. :) xoxo - Regan <3
@victoria-styles @daphnesutton @pishhhh20989
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years
Text
Unavailable**
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Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.
WC: 12.8K
WARNINGS: 18+ (I beg of you minors, DNI), DARK HARRY, therapist x client, inappropriate relationships, attraction to unavailable people, manipulation, aggressive sexual advances (bordering on cnc kink), pain kink, degradation.
Tagged: @victoria-styles @gurugirl @janelikemaryyy
Y/N wasn’t sure why…but she had a streak. A pattern if you will for going after unavailable men. Something about being noticed by someone who was supposedly so committed to another, it was gratifying to watch their eyes lust over at the sight of her. But then on the other side of that she was constantly riddled with guilt over her trysts. Y/N was only 19 the first time she gave into to her temptation; that was also when her mother discovered Y/N’s inappropriate preference in romantic partners because Y/N’s co-worker’s girlfriend showed up at their house one night in hysterics because her boyfriend admitted to her that he’d been hooking up with Y/N. She went off and rightfully so, Y/N had burning red cheeks and a bloody nose to show for her mistakes. She didn’t fight back because she deserved it.
After that, her mom kept a close eye on her. But obviously, the things she did were done in private. Her latest lover was her mom’s best friend’s husband, Christopher. Christopher was a lawyer, he was in his early 50’s, and he was the kind of man that she grew up calling “uncle”, always was fun and caring, kind, and protective of her. She wasn’t sure what flipped the switch for her to notice and want him, but she got involved with him because she could and it made her feel good about herself, or at least that’s what she would tell herself in the heat of the moment.
She remembers the first time they hooked up. He had been so hesitant and declining her flirtations when she pushed him back into the bathroom after he’d just stepped out if it. He was so nervous, but she sweet-talked him as her hand trailed down his body and groped at his cock until he was hard as a rock. Chris soon found that he couldn’t resist a 22-year old girl who was just desperate and eager to make him come. And after that they started seeing each other and they’d been hooking up for nearly four months, that was the longest she’d ever actually been with someone. Her conquests were not typically long term and few and far between - five actually, she’d only slept with five guys since she was 19. Either way, when Y/N’s mom caught them fucking in his car she dragged Y/N out by her hair, gave her a few slaps and told Chris that if he ever laid eyes on Y/N again that she would tell Candice - her best friend, his wife.
Y/N’s mom didn’t understand what was wrong with Y/N and the next morning she told her that if she wanted to remain a part of their family that she needed to get help. Y/N agreed, thinking that maybe she could see a therapist or something to figure out why she had this inherent need to seek out unavailable people, but then Y/N’s mom pulled out a packet of printed pages and told her that she was going to an in-patient facility for addicts. She was convinced that Y/N was a sex addict and probably a drug addict because “no normal, respectable person behaves the way you do” and a week later she had been shipped off.
That’s how she had ended up at New Beginnings: In-Patient Treatment Center. And much to her pleasure, how she ended up in front of the hottest man she had ever seen. Sure, she didn’t know if he was single or taken, but the fact that this man standing before her was her therapist made him a temptation. What could be more dangerous than seducing your therapist? It was wrong and inappropriate and that made in unavailable enough to pique her interest. 
“Y/N, right?” He smiled at her calmly and she nodded, “Come in, take a seat, anywhere you’d like.” He greeted before closing his office door, he was British. Fun.The decor in his office was homey and inviting, she opted for sitting on the couch so that she could bring her legs up and lay one of the many throw pillows on it into her lap. He then proceeded to sit across from her and took her in for a moment before introducing himself. “I’m Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry or Dr. Styles, whatever you feel most comfortable with.” He said and she glanced up at him, mesmerized by his pretty green eyes and his kind smile was comforting. How could someone be hot and adorable at the same time? It baffled her.
“Hi.” She said.
“Hi, again.” He responded with a smile before looking down at the chart he had in his hands, “I will begin by stating that I’m the therapist assigned to you during your stay at New Beginnings. Of course if we have… irreconcilable differences,” he grinned, “I have no problem referring you to another clinician if that’s what you choose. I have over 10 years of experience in the mental health field, four years specifically treating addictions…” he then went on to talk to her about all of the ethical duties, confidentiality policies, and whatnot. She just nodded along when he’d ask if she understood, which she fully did, “So now that we’ve got that out of a the way, tell me a little bit about yourself.”
“Ummm… I’m 22. I…like dogs?” She shrugged awkwardly, “And music? I ummm… I don’t know, what do you want to know?” She sniggered uncomfortably and his neutral expression didn’t change when her eyes met his.
“What’s your favorite dog breed?” He asked and she smiled at that. Choosing to start somewhere comfortable for her.
“I have a top 3 actually, in no particular order-” she said looking at him to make sure he understood that, “Dachshunds, Borzois, and Scottish terriers.” She said and he smiled.
“I like dachshunds and scotties, what’s a borzoi?” He asked with a confused smile and she reciprocated the friendly gesture.
“Those dogs with ridiculously long snouts, look a little like the squirrel from Ice Age?” She said and he chuckled.
“Oh! Those guys, yeah I can see the appeal.” He said and she nodded with a smile, “Apart from your distinguished taste in dog breeds,” he said and she rolled her eyes playfully, “What more is there to you?”
“Ummm, like what?”
“Like, how would you describe yourself?” He asked and she shrugged before looking down at her fingers that scratched at the pillow in her lap, “Throw out a few words for me.” He encouraged. Well, when he said it like that she would definitely cooperate.
“Ummm…Independent. Smart. Tenacious. Incorrigible, or so I’ve been told.” She smiled to herself before looking up at him and he grinned as well before his smile dropped and he looked deep into her eyes, almost as if he was trying to figure her out just through the eye contact they held. It made her nervous so she looked away. She wasn’t easily intimidated by people, but he did the trick.
“And why are you here, Y/N?” He asked her more seriously.
“Well, it was on my schedule for today so…”
“Don’t be a smart ass with me.” He said and she looked up at him right away, the serious look on his face morphed into a smirk and she scoffed, annoyed that she fell for his trick, “So tell me, honestly, why do you think you’re here, Y/N?”
“I don’t know.” She said honestly with a shrug.
“So you being admitted here has nothing to do with your sex addiction then?” He asked and she laughed softly and shook her head. Here we go.
“I’m not a sex addict.” She said with a sigh, her eyes not daring to meet his and he glanced down at his file of her.
“That’s what your file says as the reason that you were admitted.” He challenged her.
“My file probably also says that my family believes I have a drug addiction but they made me pee in a cup and drew my blood yesterday when I got here and you’ll find that I’m perfectly clean so whatever is in that file is bullshit.” She said defensively, finally looking in his eyes with irritation and he sighed.
“I’m going to ask you some questions, they may be uncomfortable but I will need you to answer as honestly and accurately as possible.” He said and she frowned. Just as she was starting to like him…
“You don’t believe me?” She asked with creased in brows and a frown on her face.
“It’s not a matter of what I believe, Y/N. It’s a matter of confirming the diagnosis so that I know how to treat you from this point forward.” He explained, “It’s nothing personal, we just need to get through this bit today, alright?” He asked and she sighed.
“Fine.” Y/N huffed.
He then proceeded to ask her questions about her thoughts about sex, her behaviors, how often and how many times she masturbated in a day, in a week. How many people she had slept with and how often she had sex or engaged in sexual behaviors with a partner. Did she feel that her sexual impulses were too great for her to control. Did she only seek sex for orgasm/physical pleasure or did she also enjoy intimacy with partners. Had she ever gone out of her way or done something risky and extreme just to have sex or to obtain sexual gratification. How did she feel before and after she had sex. Did she feel that her sexual impulses, preferences, and behaviors were normal. She wasn’t sure what to make of her responses because the whole time his brows were knitted together as he nodded at her response before writing it down in his fucking notebook. He then asked her similar questions but having to do with drugs. These questions went on for about 15 minutes after he wrote the last thing down in the notebook she sighed.
“So what’s the diagnosis, doc?” She asked, feeling a bit nervous to hear his response. Maybe she was a perverted freak and this whole time she thought she was normal. It made her feel nervous and insecure as he glanced up at her from his notebook.
“Well you’re certainly not a drug addict.” He said and she rolled her eyes, of course not, “But the sex addict part, that’s also not a real psychological disorder, by the way. We would categorize it under an impulse control type of disorder or behavioral. But just from what I’ve heard now, I think it’s worth taking a little bit of a deeper look at. I’m not saying that you have these sexual impulse control issues, but there are somethings that I would like to unpack before labeling your sexual behaviors as deviant.” He explained thoroughly.
“Deviant?” She frowned, feeling completely disgusted with herself the second he said the word. Harry saw the way she completely deflated and recoiled once he said that.
“Deviant is just the psychological term we use to describe anything other than baseline or “normal”,” he signaled with air quotations, “There’s like an unspoken principle in psychology that we call the 4 D’s, they’re the things we look at to assess whether psychological intervention is necessary. They’re deviance, distress, dysfunction, and danger. Typically, if we assess that the behavior of concern breaches into any of these categories we would then recommend getting professional help.” He explained and that disarmed her a bit, he watched the tension slightly leave her frame, “That’s what a lot of the questions I asked you help me figure out. I know that, that was intense and intrusive, so I apologize if you feel uncomfortable or-”
“It’s cool, thank you for explaining. And I mean, I don’t mind talking about sex.” She said just to reassure him that she was OK, she had just never been asked for so much detail before. When he quickly jotted that down in his notebook she felt a tidal wave of insecurity drown her all over again. After a moment of silence as he finished writing he cleared his throat.
“Y/N, I’d like to see you three times a week to start and have you attend two groups a week.” He informed her. “I will look over your schedule and find some free times and add our appointments to your schedule. Do you prefer mornings or evenings?” He asked.
“Evenings. You won’t get much more than an attitude from me in the mornings.” She huffed out a little chuckle and he grinned, the tension breaking.
“I’m sure I can help you work on that.” He said with a chuckle and she smiled. He wasn’t so bad, but also, the therapy hadn’t really started yet, so maybe she’d grow to hate him. Or maybe she’d end up liking him, he didn’t seem so bad. And maybe, just maybe, he’d end up liking her too. “Well, that’s it for today. You’re free to go.” He smiled up at her and she nodded and got off the couch and left his office.
************
Y/N had been a challenge for Harry to say the least. She was charismatic and talkative up until he’d get into the nitty-gritty stuff in session. Suddenly it was like she forgot how to speak and she would just shut down. The first time it happened Harry informed her that he didn’t mind silence, he could sit there in the silence for the remainder of their session if she so chose. They practically did that first time up until the last ten minutes of the session when she then asked him a question. He was surprised by her resolve. Sure, the whole time she didn’t make any eye contact with him, but she was a headstrong little thing. She had described herself as tenacious if he recalled correctly. 
After that first week he decided that he needed to change his approach, he needed to regain control of the relationship. Going into that second week he adopted a more professional and direct approach to her and then the insecurities started bleeding through. The moment he no longer seemed approachable and friendly she became more cooperative. She had an innate tendency to be in good favor with him, and he was sure with others too. He wasn’t cold or mean, but he cut out the filler chit-chat he normally engaged in with his patients. His extent of “ice-breaking” was asking how her day had been and then he’d jump into the session. 
He could see by their third session that week that his change to their interactions was causing her distress. Distress wasn’t always a bad thing, but as a psychologist it’s within the code of ethics that they should not cause harm to a patient, whether that be physical, psychological, or emotional harm, it could ruin a person. So he needed to tread carefully with this. During their third and final appointment during that second week he added in a little bit more of a personal touch; after she confirmed that she had a good day he asked her what about it made it good and he watched her light up at the tiniest morsel of extra attention he gave her and she was even more cooperative this time around. She finally talked about her home life when he asked.
“So you would say that you and your mother don’t get along?”
“It’s not that we don’t get along…” she sighed, “I don’t think she gets me. All my life I was this perfect little princess up until I-” she stopped herself and his eyebrows creased, “until suddenly I wasn’t and she just… never trusted me again. She just saw me as someone disappointing and dirty.” She frowned.
“Does that have to do with why you were admitted here?” He asked and she swallowed hard but nodded shamefully, “It’s something to do with why she believes you have a sex addiction.”
“Yes.” She confirmed.
“Do you want to tell me what it is?” He asked and she sighed. She felt conflicted because on one hand if she admitted this and was able to stop carrying around the weight of the guilt on her chest it could feel great. But what if her admitting what she had done made him all weird and distant again? She didn’t like feeling like she had done something to make him upset at her.
“I…I want to but I can’t.” She accepted, eyes training on a little out of place string at the edge of the pillow in her lap. She started picking at it to distract herself from the discomfort she felt in the moment.
“Why not?”
“Because people clearly don’t react well to this so I… would rather not.” She huffed, irritated that the little string was not blending with the seam of the pillow and she pulled at it.
“But that’s my job, isn’t it? To hear you out and help with what you’ve got going on?” She continued pulling and then frowned when she realized that, that one little string was what had been holding the pillow together and she watched in horror as it split open and she immediately looked up to Harry.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” She said lowly and Harry watched her become so small at this little mistake. Like she was waiting for him to blow up on her and chew her up and spit her out. She was genuinely afraid and it completely broke the act he had put up for her that whole week.
“It’s OK.” He assured her.
“It’s not OK, I completely destroyed your pillow. I-I can see if someone has a sowing kit that I can borrow or-”
“A sowing kit in an in-patient psychiatric facility? Good luck.” He chuckled and she bit on her lip as her worry faded into a smile at his little joke. “I promise you, it’s alright. I didn’t really like that pillow anyway. Just got it because it went with the color scheme.” He reassured her and she nodded, still a bit unsure. “Now, if you’re not ready to talk about what happened to land you in here can you at least tell me why are you hesitant to share that with me?” He asked and she breathed out before she started picking at the sides of her thumbs, a nervous habit he had observed she had. 
“I’m nervous.”
“About?”
“About making you angry.” She said and swallowed the lump forming in her throat, “If I tell you what happened I’m scared that you’ll confirm that I’m some sex deviant or freak and that you’ll treat me differently. That you won’t want to work with me anymore, that you’ll be disgusted and not want anything to do with me like everyone else.” She explained with a frown,  avoiding his eyes. There was a fuck ton of shame and anxiety weighing her down in this moment, it was tangible in the air right now. He wanted to make that go away, he wanted to make her feel safe with him, give her confidence that he wasn’t going to abandon her - it was his job to do that.
“Hey, Y/N-” he said.
“Hmmm?” She asked and he frowned as she looked back down at the pillow she had destroyed.
“Look at me, Y/N.” He encouraged and after a few seconds her eyes flickered up to his, “I would never judge you or abandon you over a mistake you’ve made. I’m here to help you and being a prick about anything you tell me doesn’t help you. Now, I will be honest with you and call you out on your shit. But if you feel that I’m making it personal or attacking you in some way you can also call me out on it. We’re a team, you and I, we’re here working together to help you heal. And I can’t help you or give you the tools you need to heal if you can’t be honest with me.” He explained. As he told her this she felt that her attraction towards him morphed from just a physical one to a deeper one. This wasn’t good. “If you’re not ready to share it yet, that’s OK. But I just need you to know that at some point we’ll need to cross that bridge.” He explained and she bit her lip nervously and nodded in understanding, a tense silence taking over them as she thought about what he’d just said to her. She looked away from him again and he could see the cogs in her mind turning. Time was almost up, he briefly glanced to the clock behind her, it actually was up. He was about to tell her that they could pick up on this during their next session when she just…
“My mom found out that I was fucking my uncle.” She said suddenly and he was frozen, not expecting her to just come out with that then and there, “Well, he’s not actually my uncle, he’s my mom’s best friend’s husband, just a family friend that we just call uncle because he’s always been around. I would never actually fuck-“ she paused, looking concerned at his silence, “I’m not into my family in a sexual way, OK?” She clarified through a ramble and he nodded as her eyes met his, clearly terrified at how she phrased what she’d just admitted, “But I…I tend to only pursue unavailable or inappropriate men. Somehow this preference translated as a sex addiction to my mom. I just… like what I can’t have I suppose.” She said a bit sadly and he wasn’t sure what to say. 
He couldn’t really unpack this with her now, time was up and he needed to get home. On the other hand, she was his last patient of the day and he could go over a bit, but this needed more time than just ten minutes over their time, he really needed to sit down and unpack this with her. He was processing, deciding what he should say.
“Are you angry at me?” She asked nervously and his eyes met hers again, she looked so afraid and ready for him to confirm what she feared most and his eyes softened as he continued looking at her.
“No Y/N, I’m not angry with you.” He said tenderly and she bit her lip nervously, “Thank you for telling me and for trusting me with that.” He continued and she nodded, “I ummm, I was actually about to tell you that our time was up before you dropped that bomb.” He smiled and she chuckled and brought her hands up to her face as she chuckled nervously into them, shielding her face in embarrassment.
“Oh god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know we were at the end of our time.” She said, sounding a bit muffled as her hands obstructed her face.
“it’s alright.” He chuckled, “It’s a bit past 8:30, so we can’t possibly unpack all of this now it’s a bit late.”
“No, yeah. We can talk about it next week.” She reassured him and he shook his head.
“No, we’re definitely going to meet tomorrow. I’ll let Betsy know on my way out that we’ll need to meet tomorrow at our regular time.” He said and she nodded, “But I’m glad we ended on this note, it gives you tonight to really process how it feels to have shared this with me. And well, I’ll also take advantage of the time to do my own processing. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” He said, his eye contact with her not wavering and he watched as her lips eventually turned up in a smirk, “Not like that.” He warned through a nervous chuckle and shook his head as his cheeks started staining pink, “Jesus, Y/N. Be a little serious yeah?” He grinned and she rolled her eyes playfully.
“Yeah, alright. M’sorry.” She hummed half-heartedly.
“No you’re not.” He mumbled lowly with a timid smile as he scribbled something down in his notebook. She looked at his pretty and warm smile and then down at his big, veiny hand as he gripped his pen dragging it across the page as he jotted down whatever thought was on his mind. He was absolutely and undeniably breathtaking. Time felt as if it stood still as she watched him; her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, a physical expression of her intent to refrain herself from letting her mind go to where it wanted to go so desperately. After what was actually just a few seconds he closed his notebook and then looked back up at her. His eyes immediately fell on her mouth, noticing just how hard she was biting her lip and he cleared his throat, effectively snapping her out of her inner battle.
“Well, again thank you for opening up to me. I’m sorry that we aren’t able to go through all this now and I hope you don’t feel regretful about it, but if you start to feel bad about telling me what you did and it gets to be distressing just let one of the nurses know, OK? They can call me and we can talk on the phone or if necessary, I can come in and talk you down if things get scary or overwhelming, OK?”
“Yeah, OK. Thank you, Harry.” He responded and he nodded with a smile.
“Perfect, you’re all good to go. I’ll uh- I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” She nodded and stood from the couch and quietly made her way out.
As soon as his office door shut after her he exhaled a shaky breath. Harry felt nervous about this. Just the way she had looked at him just now. The way that she had reacted when he had pulled away from her a bit this past week… initially he thought that maybe she just really needed validation from others or attention, but after what she’d just disclosed to him he was starting to think that maybe she was attracted to him. He wasn’t trying to flatter himself or anything like that, he knew that he was attractive and had good and desirable qualities, but as he looked back at their interactions and as the pieces of the puzzle that were Y/N started falling into place he couldn’t help but feel slight concern. 
Y/N was beautiful, she was smart, as she had described herself, and she was charismatic, and nice. But considering what she had just shared with him he knew that part of her had to be alluring and cunning; how else does one get a committed person to stray from their partner? There was a nagging feeling deep inside of him that beckoned him to just talk to one of his fellow clinicians about this, to get some insight about how he should go about this with her. But it worried him that they might tell him that the ethical thing to do would be to cede her case to someone else. There were a of couple reasons for why he wouldn’t want to give up her case. Not only had he promised her that he wouldn’t abandon her, but he had put in great thought and work into building rapport with her and gaining her trust. He silenced that nagging little voice in his head and decided that he could do this. He was more than capable of helping her on his own.
***********
Y/N was extremely proud of herself. After the time she told Harry what her real issue was he was so gracious about it and every part of her was screaming, begging for her to make a move on him and she resisted. Also, he could probably see it coming from a mile away, she was sure of it, because whenever she could say something a little suggestive or talk about things in a certain way he tended to just smirk down at his notebook as he jotted things down. Things got really tempting on a few occasions when she saw that he had checked her out, but still she resisted. She had been at this facility for a month and boy, had she actually enjoyed it. Harry had helped her untangle the very twisted web that she was. He helped her understand why she was stuck in the pattern she had been in for so long. Most of it had to do with her upbringing, her view of herself, and her self worth. She would be leaving the following day and it was her last session with Harry. She was going to miss him, genuinely, and as she sat before him for the final time she felt a little sad. He had just notified her that he would be giving her some referrals for a clinician before she left the following day and then he got right down to it.
“So, it’s your last day. How are you feeling?” He asked her, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was upset that this was her last day in the facility. He would probably never see her again and it made him feel…sad.
“I’m excited to get to shower with a curtain and be able to open a window.” She said and he chuckled, “But it’s bittersweet.” She admitted and then looked around his office, she felt safe with him. She liked that he was the last person she got to see during her days here. Her eyes then fixated on the single lamp on his desk giving the space a warm and inviting glow. The same kind of glow he seemed to emanate on his own.
“Why bittersweet?” He asked her, crossing his arms pensively. She then realized that he didn’t have a notebook on his lap today. Harry was waiting for her response but he was hoping that she’d say something along the lines of missing him. Truth was, that in this past month with Y/N he started to understand why these men she set her sight on gave in to her seductions. He thought that she would cave at some point, even flirted a bit at times hoping that she’d be pushed to make a move on him, one that he had mentally decided he’d take advantage of if it came, but it never did. She excited him, kept him on his toes. And as he watched her lick over her plush and pretty lips before speaking he felt jealous of whoever she would soon find to kiss and lick over her lips. He never got his chance.
“Well I have made some friends here that I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to keep in touch with.” She explained, “I know at first I was resistant and a pain in the ass, but the staff have all been great as well…” she said and then sighed, “And well, I’m really going to miss seeing you too, Harry.” She finally said it and he smiled, he tried not to look excited as she said this.
“What do you think you’ll miss most?” He asked, “About me.” He then clarified and she smiled, “I’m not fishing for compliments, by the way.” He grinned and she giggled. He most definitely was fishing for compliments.
“I’m going to miss talking to you for sure. I know that we’re not supposed to be friends with our therapists or whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “But if I’ve ever had a best friend in my life it would be you, I think.” She explained, “I like how you make me feel about myself. And how you helped me see myself. I understand myself more because of you. And I’m sure you already know this Harry, but you’re smart and kind and not intrusive even when you’re asking me awkward questions like how many times I masturbate in a week.” She said with grin and he chuckled.
“That was one time.” He interrupted with a smirk and she giggled.
“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that or will ever be asked that again, so it was memorable.” She stated and he chuckled.
“Yeah, it certainly was. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that some people masturbate almost every single day.” He said in a teasing tone and she scoffed.
“OK, like you don’t?” She said with an incredulous look and then caught herself and shook her head, “Sorry, what I was trying to infer is that guys get themselves off far more frequently than girls do. I wasn’t like thinking about you jerking off!” She said quickly and he smirked, his eyes not leaving hers, “Or at least I wasn’t.” She stated shaking her head and laughed awkwardly, “Sorry. Anyway…” she said looking down at her lap, avoiding eye contact with him because of her fumble and Harry bit his lip as he watched her nerves consume her. Everything about her body language indicated to him that she was into him and it was a real temptation.
“I do. By the way.” He added in after a moment of silence took over and she looked into his eyes.
“Do what?” Y/N asked suddenly a bit confused.
“Get myself off everyday. Or almost everyday.” He admitted nonchalantly and she felt her insides start to fire up at his confession, “At least once. I’ve got a really high sex drive.” He disclosed and she bit on her lip, her eyes darkening a bit as her mind started going places it shouldn’t and she swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Yet you’re not committed here.” She joked to try and dissipate the tension brewing between them and Harry smirked at her comment. Maybe this was a test of some sort? If it was about mental strength then she’d failed, she had already pictured him stroking his cock and squirting his cum all over her face. But physically, she wouldn’t give in. She could fantasize all she wanted, but she was not going to bend her will, so she looked away from him.
“Are you nervous?” He asked her and Y/N nodded, still not looking back in his eyes.
“Yeah, of course. What if I fuck up the second I’m out of here? Like if Chris wants to talk one-on-one and I completely throw out everything we’ve worked on together.” She shook her head with a frown and then finally looked back at him for some sort of guidance and reassurance now that she had been vulnerable about her concerns with leaving. He didn’t want to think about her with another man the second she walked out of here, it made him jealous.
“I wasn’t referring to you being nervous when you leave. I wanted to know if you felt nervous here, with me.” He clarified and she swallowed thickly, but shook her head.
“Ummm…no, I wouldn’t say I feel nervous with you.” She stated and he licked over his lips as he took her in for a moment. It made her heart pound in a way that she hadn’t felt in a while now. Then he stood up and approached the couch she was occupying one side of. He then sat down on the other end of it, his eyes still locked on hers.
“What about now?” He asked and she shook her head. He then moved to middle seat, beside her, “And now?” He asked again, her heart was beating wildly. From here she could smell his cologne and see his handsome face up close. Her pupils dilated, her body’s way of communicating that she was excited and captivated by the man before her, it didn’t go unnoticed by him, nevertheless, she shook her head, “Be honest.” He challenged her and she exhaled shakily.
“Yeah, it makes me a little nervous.” She confessed. He hummed and reached his hand towards her and settled it at her waist as his face came in close to hers. So much so that the tips of their noses brushed and she could smell the fresh mint on his breath from the fucking gum he was always chewing.
“And now?” He asked and she bit down on her lip, her eyes focused on how close his body was to hers, “Hey, be a good girl and look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you.” He demanded and her entire body fluttered when he said that and she had to obey him, “Are you nervous now?” He asked again and she nodded, “Use you words.”
“Yes.” She breathed out.
“Why?” He asked her, leaning in closer so that their lips almost touched.
“Because this is…wrong. We’re not supposed to be doing something like this.” She said.
“Am I to believe that if I were to reach into your panties and feel over your pussy it wouldn’t be all hot and sticky for me?” He asked, his lips skimming against her own and she wasn’t sure what to say, “Answer me.” He demanded and she shook her head.
“I can’t do this. We can’t. We shouldn’t.” She said shakily.
“Obviously. But do you want to?” He asked her and she bit down on her lip to suppress her moan. She was turned on beyond belief, “What if I told you that I have a wife and kid waiting for me at home? Would you want to then?” He asked and she shook her head, “You’re a liar.” He stated and she was feeling conflicted and unsure about what was happening but it was so fucking hot, she wanted to know how far he was willing to take this.
“M’not lying.” She defended herself.
“Yeah, you are. I just know that if I told you that my wife neglected me you’d be halfway there. What would really get you there would be if I told you that from the moment I saw you I was just captivated by you. That I’ve never seen someone so fucking beautiful. That she doesn’t compare to you. That I would never cheat, but you’re the exception.” He said and she whimpered.
“Th-that’s not fair, Harry.” She said with a frown and he felt a little guilty for a moment. She was right, he was being a manipulative piece of shit, but he wanted her so fucking bad 
“Yeah, you're right, Y/N. S’not fair, so I’ll be straight with you. I meant every word I said except I’m not married and I don’t have a kid. And I know that makes me…not your type, but let me tell you something. Who needs some used up old guy to make you feel good when you could have someone to keep up with your needy little cunt? Who can fuck you and make you cum whenever you want. Or maybe you just like being a dirty little secret, is that it?” He asked and she was panting now, suddenly feeling his other hand settling over her hand that was firmly planted on the couch.
“Harry-”
“That’s what you get off on, isn’t it? Being the side piece.” He said and she pouted, “Am I hurting your feelings?” He asked and she nodded, “I’m sorry, baby.” He cooed, “How should I make it up to you? Hmmm?” He asked her and then she realized he had pressed her  hand against his erection, it was straining against his trousers, and she bit her lip and looked up into his eyes as he guided her hand over the outline of his cock. “You’re so fucking perfect, you know that?” He hummed, “Just thinking about you gets me all worked up, baby. Come so fucking hard when I think about holding you down and fucking your face until you’re choking for air.” He said and she moaned.
“You really think about doing that to me?” She asked and he’d done it, her resolve had crumbled. 
“That and so much more.” He hummed.
“What else?” She asked as she started reaching further between his legs to let her fingers graze over his balls and he moaned when she did.
“The last few weeks I’ve thought of just making my move and having my way with you. Your body language, the way you look at me, the things you say, it’s all been screaming at me that you want me to fuck you. I wouldn’t even bother with stretching you out for me or waiting to get you wet for me, just force my cock into you dry if I had to, just wanted to fuck you.” Her eyes closed and she moaned again, squeezing her thighs together to feel some relief from the now constant throb of the hot and sopping mess that was her pussy.
“Please,” She panted, “do something, anything, just want to make you come.” She whimpered and his brows furrowed as he heard that.
“You want to make me come, baby?” She nodded, “And what about you, huh?” He asked her and he watched her eyes, almost tearing with desperation.
“Who cares? I just want to be good for you and make you come. As many times as you want, wherever you want. Just wanna make you feel good.” She keened and he wasted no time in pressing his lips to hers in a deep and needy kiss. After a moment he pulled back from her.
“I don’t know who the hell you’ve been with but in my book good girls get to come as many times as they want. And you, Y/N, are such a good girl.” He spoke before kissing her again, “You were so good before, saying no, rejecting my advances. You’re right, I didn’t play fair in the end there, but life’s not fair, baby. Next time you know that you need to be ready to face your ultimate temptation and beat it.” He said and she nodded before he kissed her again, “I’m really proud of you though.” He praised her and it made her feel like she was walking on air.
“Thank you, Harry.” She responded and he hummed before kissing her again. This time it deepened even more as their tongues met desperately. Licking into each other, sucking, nibbling, biting…Y/N felt like she was on fire as his heavier body weighed hers down.
“What do you want, baby? Tell me and I’ll do it.” He said and she looked into his eyes.
“Please fuck me.” She said softly and he nodded and dipped down to kiss her a little more intentionally. Slower and deeper and it made her feel strange. The only time she’s ever been kissed this way was when she had her first kiss. It was foreign to her to feel a tender touch coming from a man. Especially as his hands smoothed under her shirt, caressing her sides cautiously before covering her breasts, kneading and squeezing before pinching at her nipples. She whined as he did it again, but harder.
“Fuck, again!” She begged and this time he pulled back and pulled off her shirt before dragging the cups of her bra down before taking one of her nipples in his mouth and sucking hard making her hiss. His hands slid behind her to unclasp her bra and he just tossed it somewhere to the side before squeezing her breasts hard and moving to the next one and sucking against her already hardened nipple. He pulled back and looked at her bare chest, nipples taut and sensitive from his harsh sucks and nibbles. She wasn’t expecting it when he brought his right hand up and slapped at her her breast making her hiss. Her eyes met his with a darkened look and he grinned before doing the same to the other one and then reaching down to pinch her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and she let out a choked cry at the pain mixing with pleasure.
“Harder?” He asked and she looked into his eyes and nodded with her lip bitten hard beneath her teeth, “You sure?” She nodded again and he pinched with more force making her mouth fall open and he watched as her body became covered in goosebumps and after a few seconds he let go and she moaned as his warm palms came over her breasts and held them tightly, reliving the sharp stinging feeling she felt shooting to her sensitive little buds, “Fuck. Are you OK?” He asked softly and she nodded, “Use your words for me, baby. Want to hear your voice.”
“Yes. I’m OK.”
“You liked it, right?” He wanted to confirm; with her tendencies he didn’t want her doing things she didn’t like just because she thought it would please him. He wanted to make that clear to her.
“Yeah. I like a little pain.” She said and he hummed before smiling.
“I do too.” He assured and she bit her lip upon hearing him say this. Her eyes glanced down to the very evident bulge in his pants, there was already a faint little wet patch where the tip of his leaking cock was pressed against. She reached forward to skim her index finger along the outline of his cock, she saw it twitch in its confines as she tickled over the tip and then back down towards his balls.
“So if I were to…” she suddenly squeezed hard at his balls and he lunged forward with a hiss at the sting that shot through his body before his eyes rolled back and he moaned.
“Oh fuck, baby.” He grunted as she loosened her grip and gently rubbed over them.
“That’s OK?” She asked and he nodded at her. Truth be told he always liked to fuck hard because there was nothing like the jolt he felt from that little sting he’d get when his balls would swing up and smack harshly into whoever he was fucking. It was the cherry on top for him, especially if the person he was fucking wasn’t comfortable to giving him a little bite of pain with his pleasure. She smirked up at him.
“What’re you smirking at?” 
“Nothing, you’re just as much of a kinky freak as I am.” She grinned and he hummed and leaned down to kiss her lips tenderly and just as she was losing herself in the kiss her bit down hard on her lip and she yelped before he pulled away with a grin.
“S’nothing wrong with being a little kinky.” He hummed and she smiled, “Now, how would you like me to fuck you, baby?” He asked and she melted internally at the way the words sounded and felt like thick, warm honey coming from his lips.
“Hard and rough. Please.” 
“Fuck,” he breathed out with a smile, “You’re such a good girl with those manners.” He hummed, “Now, go on, baby. Get my cock out.” He said and she immediately moved her hands to his trousers, working at his belt and tugging it out before tossing it aside and popping open the button, looking up at his eyes as she blindly pulled down his zipper and tugged down to reveal his muscular and tattooed thighs, “Good girl. My briefs too though, baby.” She nodded and tugged them down his thighs as well. 
Y/N literally felt her saliva start to pool beneath her tongue as his thick, heavy cock fell forward between their bodies, the dark pink, leaky tip lightly grazing at her stomach a few times as it bobbed up and down a few times before it was still. 
“Holy shit.” She whispered, completely mesmerized by his penis and his lips twitched up to the side in a smug smirk. 
She liked that his pubic hair was there and well maintained. She let her eyes wander up to the laurels he had tattooed right above where his hair grew thicker. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed nervously, but she found that her mouth had again produced an ungodly amount of saliva, so instead she glanced up at him as she slightly parter her lips and then brought up her hand to spit some on it and he bit hard on his lip, nodding at her. She took this as the go-ahead to wrap her wet palm around his hot and hard cock. She dragged her fist up, letting out a small whimper as she watched his foreskin hide the tip of his cock for a moment, collecting his pre-cum, and then she stroked down and rubbed her thumb right under the head of his penis and then up and until she was rubbing against where he was leaking for her.
“Shit…” he huffed, watching her hand playing with his cock. It was better than he had imagined it would be. She looked up at him as her other hand went to his balls and squeezed gently at first and he moaned quietly. Then she added a bit more pressure and his brows knitted together as he frowned but still emitted a pleasured moan as she gently stroked his shaft, “Harder.” He groaned and a tingle of excitement shot through her body at his request as she added even more pressure to her grip around his balls and focused her strokes right over his tip. Harry’s eyes squeezed shut as he let out a strangled moan, “Fuck yeah.” He hissed as his eyes opened and met hers. They were dark and overcome with lust. Lust for her. She wanted him to come, she started stroking faster and kissed his lips quickly.
“Want them in my mouth.” She said and he nodded standing and rearing back, letting her get on her knees. The second his balls were within reach she opened up her mouth and sucked one into her mouth, knowing he didn’t mind some pain she sucked a bit harder, loving how his fingers raked into her hair and gripped it forcefully. She continued working her fist over his shaft quickly. As for her hand that was unoccupied, she ran her index finger under lips, lubricating it with the spit that was dripping out of her mouth. Without any warning she rubbed it against his asshole and he moaned, but relaxed himself so that she could press her finger past the tight ring of muscles. He was so tight and hot, and finally she felt the slightly raised bump inside and rubbed her finger into it. Harry felt his knees buckle as she rubbed into his prostate.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me come!” He panted in a deep and gruff voice. His abs started tightening and his balls drawing up, slightly aching as she sucked at them just right. He was getting there so quickly, faster than he expected but this with her was far more pleasurable than he had dreamed. “Fuck, Y/N fuck!” He grunted as he started tipping over the edge, “Wanna come in your mouth, want you to taste my sperm, baby.” He panted, losing his resolve to hold out any longer as she moaned against him. She quickly brought her mouth over his tip and he starting bucking into her mouth shallowly. He glanced down to watch as half of his cock disappeared between her perfectly delicious lips.
The sight alone was more than enough to push him over the edge. Harry’s eyes clenched shut as the pleasure started to take over, his thrusts becoming inconsistent and sloppy as he burst in her mouth. He pulled her hair harder as her finger prodded hard into his prostate, effectively milking him for all he had to give her. He hissed as she started to suck around his tip, drawing as much of his cum out of his cock as possible. After a few seconds the sensitivity started to take over, but he didn’t want her to stop. He felt like his mind had completely spiraled and that he had shifted into a completely different plane of existence as she slowly started to slow down but not enough to interrupt the stimulation. His whole body was buzzing deliciously.
“Fuck baby, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He found himself breathing out and she moaned around his cock, “Please don’t stop. Make me come again. Have so much more for you, baby girl.” He moaned. The truth was that Harry had been training himself for this exact situation. He was always training to last for ages, to come multiple times in short periods, to shorten his refractory period - he didn’t want to waste time when it came to sex. This is why the overstimulation he was feeling now was enough to keep him going. It was the perfect mix of pain and pleasure. His free hand was planted on the couch’s armrest, his arm was completely tense and his legs were quivering, barely holding him up as he felt himself just seconds away from his next orgasm. His breathing had hitched and the lack of proper oxygen intake from his shallow breathing made his throat and chest start to burn. And harder than the first one, this orgasm really did him in. He didn’t even have time to warn her, he just completely lost control as he bucked his cock desperately into her mouth, so much so that her hands instantly moved  to grip the the backs of his thighs, nails digging into his skin with a delicious bite as he filled her mouth with his warm and generous load once again.
Y/N was struggling to breathe, he’d come so much this time, she could feel it and her spit leaking down her chin. Her throat was burning because she was so desperate for air, but the tip of his cock was forcing itself down the opening of her throat and despite her hands squeezing hard at his thighs, begging for him to draw back he wasn’t pulling back. It was making her eyes water and for her to start to feel a little lightheaded. Finally, after a few second he started drawing back and she took in a deep breath before coughing as she leaned her face against the tiger inked into his thigh. 
“Shit…” He panted with a shaky voice as his fingers raked through her hair tenderly, “Sorry, didn’t-” he gulped down the air he was taking, “Didn’t even give you a warning, baby.” He apologized and she shook her head and smiled, her eyes still closed as she tried to catch her breath.
“It’s OK, that was so good.” She got out with a scratchy voice and he bit his lip. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a sexual partner, what a shame that he’d probably never see her after this. It just felt wrong to lose her, he didn’t want to think about it right now. Not as he felt her nuzzle closer to his thigh before kissing it gently. She then glanced up to him and he smiled down at her and she grinned before pushing herself to stand. She then glanced around and went to pick up her bra and shirt and he frowned.
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting dressed.” She smiled at him.
“We’re not done yet.” He said and she glanced down at his cock. It wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t hard either, she then looked up at his face again, “Gimme like five minutes, yeah?” He grinned as he walked over to his desk and took a drink from his water bottle and she narrowed her eyes.
“Five minutes?”
“I’ve been practicing a long time just in case I was ever in a situation like this.” He shrugged with a grin and she giggled. Harry stayed by his desk and toed off his shoes and then pulled off his socks before completely tearing off his pants and briefs. “Now, c’mere.” He hummed and she made her way over to his desk. He grabbed her face before kissing her slowly, but the way he was using his tongue and lips against hers were making her stomach flutter with butterflies. Suddenly he let her go to make space for her on his desk. She heard as a few things scraped against the surface of the wood while a few others fell to the ground. His hands landed on her ips and then slid back to grab at her ass. He lightly smacked at her a couple times before telling her to jump. He caught her and seated her on his desk, spreading her legs apart by her knees to settle in closer to her. 
As they continued kissing Y/N turned her head away before letting her lips wander down his jaw and then his neck, sucking lightly but not enough to leave marks. Her nimble fingers started unfastening the buttons holding his shirt closed, fingers tickling at his skin every now and again and it made him smile as her lips kissed at every inch of newly exposed skin on his chest.
“Your tattoos are pretty.” She spoke absentmindedly before she sunk her teeth into his clavicle, making his hands dig into her thighs at the sting from the surprising action. As his pecs came into sight she felt even more dizzy. She kissed down his sternum, smiling at the tickles on her lips and the tip of her nose from the smattering of hair on his chest. She had finished unbuttoning his shirt and her hands slid up his tummy and over his pecs before she turned and bit down gently on one of his nipples. Just from that his cock started getting stiff again. She then did the same to the other, she smiled smugly against his warm and soft skin as she felt his grip tighten around her thighs. She pulled back to get a good look at him and smiled again upon seeing the butterfly tattooed right over his stomach, it was so pretty. Harry’s heart started thumping hard and his tummy fluttering with more than just anticipation and lust, as he watched her take in the tattoo inked into his stomach. The smile that spread on her face brought a warmth to him that he didn’t know he was missing until it came.
“Did it hurt?” She suddenly asked and he smiled and nodded.
“But as you know, I don’t really mind that.” He grinned and she sniggered as her finger traced the outline of it, making his abs flex with the slight tickles. He was a fucking masterpiece, “Do you have tattoos?” He asked and she shook her head.
“My mom thinks they’re vulgar, always said she’d kick me out if I got one.” She said and he hummed, “I do want one though. I’ll just get it when I’m out of there.” She hummed. She could now feel his fully hard penis against her thigh as her finger absentmindedly followed the dips of his abs and she smiled up at him, “Impressive.” He chuckled lowly.
“Told you. It also helps when you’re really into the person you’re with.” He added and she glanced down as she felt her face becoming hot at his compliment.
Harry smiled as he watched her break eye contact timidly and after a few moments he gripped her chin between his fingers and coaxed her to look back up at him. His eyes scanned over hers for a few seconds before he leaned down to connect their lips in a much slower and sultry kiss. Y/N was not really one to allow for tenderness to seep into her sexual encounters, but this kiss was something different. It made a warm feeling glaze over her heart and slowly spread through her entire body, like a thick syrup. 
Their kiss started inching away from tender and towards the territory of hungry and desperate. His hands spread her legs for him and wrapped them around his hips. He pressed his body flush to hers and moaned into their kiss as his big, thick cock snuggled into the hot and sopping folds of her pussy, his tip nudged against her clit every now and again, making both of them shudder. He shifted his hips until he felt his tip catch against the dip of her entrance and he pushed forward but not hard enough to push past her opening. She was getting so desperate for him; hungry to feel him slowly push into her and spread her. She was just about to protest his teasing when out of nowhere he forcefully shoved his cock all the way into her without warning. His darkened eyes watched as her delicate features creased with what was evidently discomfort. Her lips turned down as a surprised groan spilled past them. She was fucking tight. Her cunt’s vice-like grip even caused some pain to his cock as he se settled deep into her. He didn’t give her time to adjust, she’d get used to it in just a bit. She winced as he dragged his cock out almost to the tip and then rammed back into her hard.
“Shit!” She whimpered feebly, fingers gripping hard into his biceps for some form of grounding and he groaned from deep in his chest as her clenching walls did the absolute most to try and get him to stop and give her a second to adjust, her body resisting his thrusts from the shock of it all, “It hurts a little, you’re too big!” She gasped and his lips met hers sloppily as he opted for grinding into her instead, trying to get his cock in deeper, as deep as he could get it.
“It’s alright, baby. It’ll start to feel good soon.” He promised her, his lips skimming and smearing against her own as he spoke. She wiggled her hips a bit and just then she gasped and curled into his body; her arms hugged around his back and squeezed him tight. Harry smirked as he started to pulse his hips, feeling her legs start to quiver as his cock stimulated her g-spot. “Fuuuuuck.” He moaned. It felt so good against the tip of his penis, so spongey and warm, the texture and ridges of her cunt were absolutely perfect for him and he started going a bit harder. 
“Oh my god!” She gasped into his chest and he hummed in delight before he bit down hard on his lip as her nails raked down his back. Hard.
“Told you it’d feel good soon.” He hummed knowingly.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah!” She confirmed, “You’re fucking me so good!” She whimpered, “Harder, please. Fuck me harder!” She mewled. 
Harry grunted loudly and pushed her further back on his desk until she was laying on her back and he climbed on the desk and kneeled, pulling her hips into him. He shoved his cock back into her pulsing and sore little hole and immediately started to pick up the pace and force of his thrusts. Her breath had suspended for a moment as he pounded away at her without mercy. All that could be heard for those few seconds were his labored breaths and the sound of his balls thwacking wetly against her ass. He pressed his hands to her inner thighs, spreading her even more open for him, allowing him to get closer to get in deeper, this is what made her gasp for air as a strangle moan left her throat. Harry watched with a nearly pained look as her little pussy took his entire cock, right up to his balls over and over and over again. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand as a delicious and familiar tingle shot through his whole body. He then lowered himself down, his nose skimming hers and his lips hovering right above hers as he continued his thrusts.
“Oh my god, you’re so good, Harry! So fucking good!” She praised through a moan, “I’m gonna come soon!”
“Would love to keep giving you my cock to get you there, but only good girls get to come.” He said and she pouted.
“So good for you!” She whimpered, her teary eyes met his own darkened and stern eyes.
“Are you really?” He asked and she nodded, “Don’t think so, Y/N.” He said and she frowned even more, her chest stirring with hurt and offense at his words. A total contrast to the warm and delicious feelings swirling and brewing in her tummy.
“I am good. I am.” She fought back, trying not to get too upset over this.
“No you’re not, Y/N.” He huffed, “You’re an insatiable, manipulative, little whore.” He said and the moment the words left his mouth she felt a tingle shoot up her spine. He felt her walls clench down hard around him as he said this and he hummed, “Is that being good?” He asked and she shook her head with a frowned and then he gave a really rough thrust and it completely opened her up for him so that he sunk deeper and his tip collided with her cervix. She gasped, body taught as a bow at the feeling of pain and pleasure blending beautifully and chaotically, making her brain feel like mush as the only thing she could feel now was him, “Holy fucking shit.” He grunted out and started pulsing his hips gently, his tip kissing her cervix with every movement, it had his toes curling. Y/N felt like she was going to combust, more so because with the way he was thrusting she was getting just enough contact against her clit and holding back her orgasm was getting harder. Hot tears started to streak down her face from the desperation
“Please, Harry! Please, let me come!” She sobbed and he grinned wickedly.
“No. You’re a selfish and disgusting home-wrecker.” He berated her, he didn’t stop because he felt her start to pulse around his cock at this, “And you like it, you can’t lie to be about that. Makes you feel good, huh? And special? As if that’s the only thing you’re good for.” He said and she frowned again “Don’t pout and feel sorry for yourself, baby. It’s the truth and if that’s who you’re gonna be you better fucking own it.” He said and she moaned, her back starting to arch. “Tell me what you are. Wanna hear you say it.” He egged her on.
“Harry-”
“Admit it and I’ll let you come.” He said and she whimpered and looked into his eyes.
“I’m…” she frowned, “I’m selfish and disgusting.” She confessed, “I’m a home-wrecker and I like it.” She confessed, “I do like how it makes me feel, it is what I’m good for.” She whimpered in a feeble voice and he groaned and shook his head, a little too fucked out to say anything else.
“Come for me, Y/N. Come for me so I can fill your little pussy with my cum.” He said and she gasped and started to tremble as a tidal wave of pleasure just took her out. He started pounding faster into her cunt and started to rub at her clit until she was moaning until he felt her cum gushing from her entrance, splashing against his tummy and thighs from the force of his thrusts, “Oh fuck, even have you squirting on my cock, baby. Fuck!” He mewled and after a few sloppy thrusts he was groaning as his orgasm almost felt like it punched him in the gut. He felt as his balls pulsed hard against her, pumping all of his cum into her needy little cunt.
“Oh my god!” She whispered as she hugged him tight, “Can feel you filling me up.” It made her feel some kind of way. She’d never fucked anyone bare, no one had ever actually came inside of her before and it was incredible.
“S’my little pussy now, isn’t it?” He asked her as he slightly pushed himself up to look at her face. She was all fucked out, mascara smeared, eyes heavy and skin blotchy, and looking like she wasn’t all there. Nevertheless she nodded at his question, “Filled you with my come so now you’re all mine.” He repeated and kissed her lips tenderly, completely opposite to the way in which he had just fucked her. Already, she could feel her inner thighs and pubic bone were sore from his aggressive maneuvers, she’s sure that her pussy would hurt too in a little bit once she regained feeling there. They made out languidly for a little bit and he had started to soften up a bit more. “M’gonna pull out, OK? S’gonna feel uncomfortable.” He warned her and she nodded, biting on her lip to muffle the whimper that bubbled in her throat. He too hissed a bit and then moved off of the desk. Now she started to feel the thrum between her legs, still it was a bit dull and would likely get worse in the next hour. She had never been fucked like this, she was unsure of what to make of everything that happened, all she knew was that she didn’t regret it one bit. Everything had been so good because he seemed to know what buttons to push and how and when to do it. Like he had been given a manual on her and memorized it. The fact that he was her therapist probably helped a bit, but he also understood her on a deeper level, they were in a way the same.
Y/N couldn’t bring herself to move yet, she just stared at his ceiling as she heard him shuffling around. She started getting drowsy and let her eyes flutter closed for just a few minutes.
“Y/N, hey.” He squeezed at her calf and she groaned tiredly, “Bend your legs f’me, baby.” He said and she did so with his help, still drowsy as hell, “M’gonna clean you up, OK? Sorry, s’a bit cold.” He said and she frowned and hissed as she felt a soft damp texture against her center, but soon the cold soothed her swollen and beat up pussy, “Push, just a little.” He said and presumably wiped up his sperm leaking from her entrance, “Good girl.” He hummed and pressed a kiss to each of her knees before pulling away. “Grab my hand.” He said and she did and he pulled her up to a sitting position. Suddenly she felt really cold and exposed. Her blurry eyes adjusted and saw that he was now in his briefs, “Here, have a little water.” He said extending his water bottle to her and she took it with shaky fingers and glued some down as he rubbed over her thighs gently until she was done. Her eyes met his and he looked a little worried, “Are you o-” he stopped himself, “D-do you regret it?” He asked and she frowned and shook her head.
“No.” She assured softly and he looked more at ease. “Do you?” She asked and he shook his head with a timid smile.
“But I ummm, obviously didn’t use a condom, didn’t even ask you if it was OK t-to come inside of you. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I got really lost in the moment.” He rambled, “Are you on something or can I bring you an emergency contraceptive early tomorrow?” He asked and she smiled at him. Is this what sex is like for everyone or is Harry just thoughtful and caring like this? She asked herself, “What?”
“Nothing, you’re just really sweet.” She said as he hands came over his and rubbed over them, “And I’ve got the implant so we should be OK. Also I’ve always used condoms, given my…regular preferences, so I’m also aware that I’m clean.” She assured him and he nodded.
“OK. Me too. Sorry, we’re doing this all wrong, but ummm, I’m not usually this impulsive.” He explained and she giggled.
“It’s alright.” She assured and he smiled.
“Alright, let’s get you dressed.” He said and he collected her clothes and helped her get her bra and top on. Even slid her panties up her legs and helped her with her pants, “There you are.” He smiled.
“Thank you.” She hummed and he gabbed her face gently and leaned in to kiss her once more. Just a soft and sweet kiss that made her breathing suspend for just a moment before he pulled back, the space between them was still minimal as he pressed his fore head against hers.
“I want you to know that the things I said about you, being a whore and selfish and I don’t even know what else…”
“A disgusting home-wrecker is what you said, I think?” She responded and he frowned upon hearing it.
“I hope you know in your heart that you’re not those things. It was just a sex thing and-”
“I know. Kinda into the degradation thing too, don’t worry. S’rather tame to what I’ve heard in the past.” She said and that made his stomach twist with hurt for her.
“But you know that it’s not true right?” He asked her again and she stayed quiet, “Baby, s’not true. This past month you’ve worked so hard on the root causes of what was leading you to make those choices. You’re so much more than your mistakes and regrets. Remember who you are. But I know it's hard sometimes, so if you ever find yourself doubting or forgetting that please call me. I’ll always make time for you.” He assured her and she bit her lip as her eyes watered, she was trying not to cry but when he kissed her forehead the tears started to fall and he hugged her into his chest as she started to sob, “Shhh, shhhh, s’alright.” He comforted her with a soft and comforting whisper, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He reassured her. It was time for her to get back to her room, it was a little past 8:30 now and he drew back from her once her crying had calmed and he helped wipe at her tears.
“Thank you, Harry.” She said and he smiled at her once more.
“Try getting down?” He requested and as soon as she landed on the ground her legs trembled and her knees gave. He caught her almost immediately and they both giggled at that, “OK, just lean here for a little until you’re good enough to walk. I’ll walk with you you to your room, OK?” She nodded with a smile. He finished getting dressed and gathered his belongings before they made their way down the halls and finally they got to her room and he stepped just a bit past the threshold, they both glanced out into the hallway before he dipped down and kissed her deeply for a few seconds before he pulled back.
“Let me leave my card with you now and I’ll jot down my cell on the back, OK?” She nodded and he pulled a pen from his backpack and a business card from his wallet before scribbling his number on it and leaving her with one final kiss goodnight.
*************
Harry and the nurses that mainly worked with her had a little farewell surprised for her on her way out. A card and some flowers, nothing over the top, but still sweet. Y/N’s mom saw the genuine sadness that Y/N’s team had for seeing her go, but also heard how proud of her they were and that she would be just fine. Then the time came for Y/N to actually go and she hugged her care team members, leaving Harry for last, maybe he stood on the end on purpose  because he wanted to be her final goodbye. She smiled as she went up to him and hugged him tight around his stomach, discreetly breathing in his scent.
“M’gonna miss you. But I promise you, you’re ready and you’re gonna be just fine. I’m so, so proud of you.” He said as she squeezed her tight before letting go and she sighed shakily as a fresh wave of tears streaked her cheeks and she giggled and rolled her eyes.
“Sorry guys.” She sniffled and everyone giggled away the tension. She was still gripping Harry’s hand tight, not quite ready to let go yet.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Her mother asked and Y/N looked to her nurses and then at Harry who squeezed her hand tight.
“Remember who you are.” He mouthed to her and she nodded and took in a deep breath and let him go. She had no idea what would come of this or if she would ever even need to call him at any point in time, but as she walked out the doors with a final wave goodbye and her eyes met his one last time she was just filled with happiness to have crossed paths with him.
———A/N———
If you like this ending you don’t have to continue to parts 2 & 3, they are a bit more serious. No smut until part 3 & it’s more romantic than kinky.
READ PART 2
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flymetosnarryland · 10 months
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Dark Harry WIP
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If you can remember White Snape (he is chilling somewhere lower on the site, lolo) - here we have part two, Dark Harry ɷ◡ɷ It's still in progress, because he need colours (and I have to fix right side of the coat, huh).
Also both Harry and Severus have a hand close to their mouth - I choose those poses very intentional. Actually, for the title. I suppose you can guess it (ᕑᗢूᓫ∗) I share it when both will be finished and ready to reveal. (And I totally will make a photo of them, poster size, hanging on my wall!) (^▽^)
Have a great friday, guys!
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jarofstyles · 1 year
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Reaper 4
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Hello my loves! Here is part 4 to Reaper! Pleaseeee let us know what you think!
WC:9.4k
Warnings: violence(some detailed), angst, mention of panic attack, stalking, blood, asshole Harry, etc!
Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!
————
Today started off just like any other day for Bunny.
She and Harry had a bit of a morning routine that blossomed in the days they’d spent together. They’d wake up around the same time and Harry would silently pad into the kitchen and make her a cup of tea before she came to cook the two of them breakfast.
Since their moment in the kitchen, there was an unspoken tension that made every interaction that much more exciting. Y/N had of course been on her best behavior, not wanting to risk anything. Not even allowing herself to give him an extra kiss when he dropped her off at class.
Today was different though.
Harry had some business to take care of at the shop so he escorted her to class on his bike while she drove in her car. He’d told her a prospect was going to be there after class to follow her around town while she ran any errands she had been putting off and that he would meet her at the clubhouse at 6.
The news had left her slightly disappointed, but she knew she couldn’t be greedy with his time and attention no matter how needy she’d been feeling these past few days. She’d see him in the evening— it was the weekend as well. Y/N just needed to toughen up. She used to do this alone, didn’t she?
So naturally, when Y/N saw a pink post-it note stuck to her stirring wheel she thought it was a note from Harry. She had thought he wanted to surprise her, leave her with something since she wouldn’t be getting her after-school kiss.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Don’t you like playing with me, Y/N? You shouldn’t have betrayed me, you’re not safe with that scumbag. It’s okay, you’ll learn.
Ps. Thank you for the gift. You smell divine.”
Suddenly there was no air to breathe in her car. She checked the backseat and instantly locked the doors, the most unsettling feeling overcame her stomach. She couldn’t stop reading the note over and over.
He’d gotten into her car without setting off the alarm. Without the prospect seeing him. He’d been here, watching her with Harry.
With shaky hands, she reached for her phone, not even sure if she’d be able to get a word out, but she knew she had to call him. She promised she would.
“H-Harry…” Bunny didn’t realize she had started crying. “H-he,” Her breaths came out heavily, “he was in my car.”
Harry had picked up the phone, thinking it was her usual check-in. He had been finishing up paperwork in the office, sending invoices when he heard her ringtone and picked the phone up.
Immediately he knew something was wrong. Her cries had filled his ear and raised the alarm bells, but when what she said hit him, he stood up.
“What do you mean he was in your car?” He said lowly, walking towards the door. “What happened? When?” His head was spinning. Of course, they’d wanted to lure him out and catch him- but he hadn’t planned on boldness like this.
“There’s- there’s a note and he knows we’re together. He was in here, Harry. He took my chapstick. It was locked, it was locked and I had the key the whole time.” She stuttered, her sniffles infuriating him.
“Where the fuck is Cricket?” He snarled, stalking down the stairs from his office. Everyone in the garage turned and looked away from him as they knew that stomp wasn’t anything good. Harry felt rage burning in his gut- the prospect was supposed to be watching the car, watching her. Keeping an eye out. He should have approached, taken photos, anything except be silent.
“I don’t know. I don’t see his bike.” She said, sobering as she realized- he had left. The prospect had left her alone and in danger, she hadn’t been safe the whole time.
“He left?” Harry stopped as he got to his bike, the hot rage boiling in his blood. “He…. Fuck.” He hissed, throwing his leg over his bike. “Lock the doors, now. Stay in that car. Don’t open the door for anyone, and don’t touch the note. Stay there, Bunny. Do you understand me?” His snarl wasn’t the most comforting thing but right now all he could focus on was the anger. The panic in his chest. She had been left alone. Thank god she had gotten to her car unscathed, but what if she hadn’t?
It would be his fault. His fault for leaving an idiot prospect in charge of her. Viper had told him he had been capable and while he was a little immature, could handle a task like that.
He would be very regretful he left his post when Reaper got his hands on him.
“I’m on my way.” His cold tone was cut by the roar of his bike coming on. “Do as I said. Don’t fucking move.”
She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
She was frozen, body still in shock. Before she had been able to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, brush things off, but this was real. She couldn’t deny this, there was no other answer. He made it loud and clear.
The only thing that was keeping her grounded at the moment were the hot tears that trickled down her cheeks. What was she going to do? Who’s to say he wasn’t watching her now? What if he had a tracker? A camera?
It was hard to keep herself relaxed when all she could do was sit still and wait. The silence in the car was deafening, blocking all the sound from outside, all she could hear was the sound of her heart drilling in her ears.
Harry broke what he was sure were a lot of traffic laws trying to get to him, the internal rage building and building as the ride got closer. Usually riding made his anger dwindle, at least to an acceptable level- but with the idea of Bunny in danger?
It only made it worse.
His vision was tinted in red. For this creep who was stalking her, for Cricket, for himself. He couldn’t just trust anyone with her. No one without a patch was watching her from now on. The fucker better have been dying to have left his post, and even that wasn’t something he would be happy about accepting.
His bike tore into the parking lot, the loud roar of it turning a few heads as he appeared right next to her car. The helmet was ripped off of his head, tossed to the side as he got off.
“Open the door.”
Y/N jumped up a bit, having zoned out in a spiral of thoughts. She felt relieved that Harry was here, but right now he wasn’t the Harry she had grown comfortable with. This Harry looked like he was about to rip someone’s head off.
Clicking the button she let him pull open the door, not wanting to touch the handle in case there were any prints on it. However, if this man could break into her car without setting off the alarm she was sure he was smart enough to rid the car of any evidence.
Wiping her face quickly she locked eyes with him, trying to find some kind of comfort in them but all she managed to find was rage. Sure it wasn’t directed at her, but all she needed right now was a hug.
“Let me see the note.” He placed his hand over her shoulder, lowering his head to dip into the car. Her tears only infuriated him more.
Her shaky hand handed the note to him, watching his eyes scan over the handwriting. It disgusted him. Enraged him. Took everything in him to not rip it or crumble it up, instead tucking it into his pocket as his hand shook with the anger. He was having a hard time controlling himself.
“I can’t wait to send this fucker to hell.” He spit, clutching her car door as he scanned the parking lot. “I don’t know where Cricket went, but trust me, he will be dealt with. We need… we need to get to the fucking clubhouse.” He looked down at her. “Are you okay to drive?”
He would leave his bike here for now if need be. His head was scrambled and not right. When Harry got angry like this, he had a one-track mind, and it was focused on revenge. Finding this guy. “Need to get Wiz to scan your car for a tracker again. And I need to warn Viper that the prospect is going to be hospitalized at the very fucking least, and stripped of his consideration.”
“Drive?” She asked almost as if she didn’t believe he was asking her the question. Y/N was not in the state to drive. She was barely in a state to think, not having registered much of what Harry was saying to her.
“N-no, I wanna go home.”
It was the first time she had ever asked him for something, but she just wanted to feel safe again. Bunny thought her house was safe, it wasn’t. Thought her classes were safe, in public, they weren’t. Her car wasn’t safe now either. The only place she felt safe was at Harry’s, with him there.
Y/N wasn’t sure what answer to expect from him, but she was hoping he wouldn’t give her the same tone he had been speaking to her with. It was so unfamiliar, it felt like it wasn’t meant for her to hear.
“I know you do.” He said lowly. “But we need to get ahead of this shit, Y/N.”
Using her name like that seemed to make her upset but he was too irritated with the situation to clock it at the current moment. The red rage had been running up in his body and he was blinded by the need to take care of the logistical things first.
“Move to the passenger side.” He moved to his bike, not giving her the option to talk back as he grabbed his shit from the saddle bags and shoved it into her backseat. His irritation was palpable, his jaw sore from how hard he had been clenching but he needed it. He needed her to be safe and he needed to take revenge for her.
She was quiet as he sat down in the driver's seat, starting it up and backing out with a vengeance. He knew he was being a bit reckless but he wanted them out of there. He had a feeling that the fucker was waiting in the shadows, watching. He felt it on the back of his neck when he arrived.
Y/N wished she never left the bed this morning, but she knew that this was inevitable. The shoe had dropped and any happiness she had found in the past few days had been snatched up from under her. She was naive to believe it wouldn’t happen so quickly, it left her feeling even more helpless than she had when she first called Harry.
The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way of him finding the man who did this, but what would happen to her in the process? She had already caught herself getting nervous whenever she was outside of the house, already feeling paranoid even in the safety of Harry’s home.
She thought it was normal considering the spot she was in and Harry had been such a good at distraction. She was stupid to think that he would be attentive when it came to her feelings. To assume he could read her in times like these. It wasn’t in his nature. She knew that.
Bunny couldn’t stop toying with the zipper of her bag, unraveling the strings stitched into the fabric, mindlessly staring into a point in the dashboard. She wouldn’t feel anything if she just shut it off for a bit.
-
Pulling up to the clubhouse, he could still feel his rage simmering. Like in a pot ready to boil over, but trying his hardest not to go full on because Bunny was in the car.
“You’re safe here.” He reminded her as he turned off the car, looking at her. She looked a bit pale for her complexion, a little sickly, but he imagined she was probably upset too. He would deal with it later, and figure out how to make her feel safer. Right now? He was on a mission.
One of the traits Harry knew he had was a one-track mind. He wanted to get ahead of this before it got worse, wanted to find the man. There were cameras in the parking lot and he hoped Wiz could figure out how to hack into them.
His hand wrapped around Bunny’s stiff one as he nearly dragged her into the clubhouse, the slam of the door alerting the brothers that were here that he had arrived. And he wasn’t happy.
“Someone better fucking tell me that Cricket is dead.” He said lowly. “And if he isn’t? He will be soon.” His voice was ice, frosting up the room as the other prospects stiffened up. “No more patchless fuckers watching my girl. Where the fuck is Viper?”
“Right here, brother.” The tall man walked into the room with a brow raised, arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck’s your problem?” He asked, looking between Reaper and Bunny. “You okay, little rabbit?” His demeanor softened as he could see she was in a state, but Harry beat her to it.
“Course she fucking isn’t. Cricket fucked off and the creep left a note in her car. Her locked car.” He snarled. “Where is Wiz? I need him to check the cameras and her fucking car to make sure the son of a bitch hasn’t put shit on it.” He felt like a caged dog, nowhere to put this aggression he felt. “Just letting you know, the kid is getting his ass kicked. Hope to fuck he doesn’t show up here again.”
Viper agreed with Harry on this one. The club had vowed to protect their own and Bunny was their top priority— if anyone left her in danger, prospect or not, they’d be punished.
The club was used to seeing Harry in this state, to them, this was perfectly normal and they handled him with ease. They knew what not to say and how to say things the right way to keep him as relaxed as they could, but no one could ever curb his aggression.
“I’ll send Wiz out now.” Viper nodded, knowing better than to tell the Reaper to calm down though he wanted to for the sake of the girl standing beside him. There had been a few occasions where they had tried to contain him, but each time ended in hospital visits… that one time, death.
It was better not to get in his way when he saw red. Once his mind was set on someone, they rarely made it out alive. He fought to kill. It’s why they called him Reaper.
“Wait- Cricket?” Bulldog raised a brow. “The boy’s in one of the rooms out back. Brought a girl back- probably doing god knows what. Didn’t know he was supposed to be on duty for Bunny.”
Harry’s head whipped to the side, looking at Bulldog with his cold eyes. Bunny, unlike the rest of them, was not used to seeing this from him. As much as she knew he wasn’t ever going to harm her? It was a bit scary. The temperature in the room went down a few degrees as she looked at him.
So beautiful, so so angry. He was like a carved marble statue with his sharp lines and hard eyes, the only indications he wasn’t being the stubble and the scars.
“He left post for some fucking pussy?” He hissed, breathing picking up. His face was something she hadn’t ever seen, a new side of him. “Viper? Will you keep Bunny company for a moment?” He asked, the red clouding his vision again.
“Sure, brother.” He gently motioned for her to come over to him, though when Harry stalked off wordlessly she went to follow. “No, no. You don’t want to see him like that, little rabbit. Trust me.”
Harry was ruthless, and there was supposed to be a pact in this brotherhood. Had she gotten physically harmed? Harry would kill him.
The metal door swung open with a bang, the sound of a girl’s shriek was the last thing Y/N heard when she and Viper turned the corner.
Harry was snarling, eyes zeroing in on the motherfucker he’d left to take care of his precious Bunny. He walked over and used his last speck of patients on the young woman before him.
“If you give a fuck about your mental health, get out of here.” He commanded, breath still heavy and laced with anger. Harry knew she had nothing to do with this, this cocky prospect thought he could reap the benefits of the club having shit to show for it.
The girl simply nodded and ran towards the door, snatching her clothes up from the floor on the way out.
“You leave my woman for some pussy?” He said lowly. Harry could feel some of his brothers come up from behind him, knowing they’d pull him off when he’s had enough- but seeing the shocked look on the man’s face really didn’t help. He scrambled up from the bed and backed up as Harry stalked towards him.
“Left her all alone while the fucking creep following her left notes in her car?” He tilted his head, irritation floating through his system. “Decided to be a selfish fuck and abandon your post that Viper assigned you, have the Fuckin’ balls to come back and use a room you aren’t even patched in to use?” His hand wrapped around the man’s throat, not caring about his lack of clothing besides boxers.
“I- I didn’t think it would be a big deal!” He squeaked like a stupid rat, Harry’s hand slamming him up against the wall. “No one has shown up for days!”
“That’s what we wanted, you worthless piece of shit.” Harry spit. “The freak got into my woman’s car. Left her a note. Went through her shit. Had the time to do that because you found some subpar pussy and fucked off. You think you’re going to get patched in now?” His humorless laugh echoed in the room.
“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again-” he choked as Harry’s grip on his throat tightened. The man was terrifying, eyes so dark they didn’t even look the green they usually were. They all had a clue where he got his road name from, but being in the Reaper’s warpath was not something anyone wanted.
“You think…” He tightened, “I give,” tighter, “a fuck?” Harry watched as the man squirmed, his face changing color from the lack of oxygen. “You’re lucky that I’m even letting you breathe again.” Harry spat in the man’s face, only then letting go.
He moved his hand to grab the back of Cricket’s head by his hair, slamming his face into the wall with one swift movement. He picked his head back up only to repeat the motion, chuckling as the man groaned in pain.
“How pathetic. You think this is some hot shot club? Isn’t a fucking game?” Harry pulled his head back again, the man screaming in his grip.
“I kill people like you every day. I don’t care.” He pulled him back, tugging roughly at his hair before throwing him over the back of the bed.
Harry knew he needed to get out of there before he killed the guy, he already struggled with letting go when he was choking him.
Bunny could hear the screams, sitting stiffly at the bar as Viper handed her some water.
“Don’t focus on that.” He said quietly, breaking her focus. “The good news is, if there are any cameras nearby, Wiz will be able to get into the feed and we’ll have eyes on him. I’m sorry though.” He sighed.
The older man obviously felt bad that she had to go through shit like this. And the fact Reaper was being… Reaper.
“My car was locked.” She said quietly, swirling her straw around the water. “I double-check every single day. Even before this, I locked it. I don’t know how he could have gotten in.” It was something she was focusing on.
“Unfortunately there are ways, darlin’. That’s why we’re gonna make sure you aren’t unattended today. We don’t allow people like that in the club. They can do what they want on their own time… but abandoning a post, watching a brother’s woman for some….” He paused. “Sex? It’s fucked up. No other way to put it. Can’t blame Reaper for taking care of him.”
“Will he kill him?” Y/N peeped quietly, unsure if she wanted to know the answer. She was aware he had said he had before but hearing it and being near where it potentially could be happening were two different things. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“Nah. He probably wants to but it isn’t worth it to him. The feds, all of that. If the creep had gotten to you physically, yeah. I’d probably help him. But he’s just getting kicked out and his ass kicked.”
Y/N could understand why Viper was the boss now. He was level-headed, stuck to his morals, knew how to handle people. She was already feeling better than she had when she arrived, but now a different feeling was creeping in.
Viper’s eyes shifted to look behind her just as she felt a presence coming up from behind.
Harry didn’t want to touch her, not when his hand were covered in blood. Instead, he shuffled past them to the sink, washing his hands as tried to ground himself from his rage.
He was still breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his body. Harry really would have done severe brain damage if the guys hadn’t pulled him off. Fucker learned his lesson. Would never show up or snitch. For his sake, Harry hoped he knew better.
Bunny busied herself with drinking water, making herself small in the seat in hopes that he would pity her in this state.
He looked feral.
She had never seen him like this. Washing blood off of his hands, heavy breathing, stiff as a board. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, try and comfort him- but she knew better.
There was no comfort from this. He was angry and it radiated off of him in waves.
“Did Wiz find anything?” He grunted.
“Wiz did, thank you very much.” The man himself walked in, glasses perched on his nose as he placed the laptop on the bar in front of Bunny. Harry crowded behind her, hovering over her with his arm leaning on the wood top.
The footage began to play. A man, thin and willowy approached the car. A hood and mask disrupted the look, making sure that you couldn’t make out his full face. He took out a key fob and clicked it, opening her car.
“Do you have two keys?” Wiz asked. “I know the dealer will offer a spare and I’m just assuming that maybe since he had gotten into your home, he found it.” She could tell it looked something very similar to hers. But with the grainy footage, he couldn’t tell.
“Yeah…” Y/N sighed, realizing where she had the key stored away. “In my ma’s beside table.” The thought made her feel physically ill. This guy had snooped not just in her room but her mothers?
This man was stooping to new lows with every item of information she learned about him.
“W-what else do you think he has?” Bunny asked, “I really don’t want her getting hurt—“ She had already told her mother about the situation back when she first moved to Harry’s. It’s a shame her mother understood far too well.
Her dad was once a Devil’s Keeper too.
“We can come around and arrange new security for your place, can get Saw to install some new locks, and maybe even get those windows properly secured.” Viper offered up with no hesitation. “We won’t let either of you get hurt, little rabbit. We’re taking care of her too.”
“It’s not her he’s after,” Harry grunted, flexing his hands. They stung a little but it was numbed by the information he just got. He had a key to her damn car.
“No more of your car. You’ll take one of mine.” He decided then and there. “We’ll leave it here.” They could have someone drop them off at home and he’d get Bulldog to grab his bike for him and drive it back.
When she looked at him, he expected an argument. “No arguments. If he can get in there, he can hide in the back. We can’t do that, Y/N.” Again, her real name. It felt so impersonal it made her recoil, the harshness of his tone. Like he had been expecting her to be sassing him and fighting it.
“Relax, Reaper. I know you’re worked up but you’ve got to remember who you’re talking to.” Viper warned. Harry did not listen. Instead, he walked off to find keys for one of their cars. His headspace was not one of comfort right now. It was of rage and coming down from a beating he wished could have been a murder. But whatever.
“Let’s go. We’re going home.” Harry muttered as if it was an order, waiting for Bunny to start walking towards the garage. He didn’t need viper on his case now too.
Y/N bit her tongue. Giving a look to viper that signaled she’d be alright and began walking towards the garage without paying any attention to Harry. It was not time for snarky remarks and being a brat— she knew she wouldn’t be happy with anything he said while in this headspace.
So she sat silently the entire ride home, letting Harry calm down while the faint sounds of deftones came through the speakers.
What was he thinking? Was he so blinded by his rage that he forgot all that they were? Or was this him showing his true colors? Y/N didn’t want to think the worst of him, for a long time, she had been the only one fighting his corner besides Sterling. Maybe he just didn’t realize it.
—-
They arrived back at his place, Harry shuffling her inside before arming the security system. He was irritated and tired and he needed a fucking shower desperately.
“Please go eat something.” His tone had softened its bite, but he was still in his own head. “I’m taking a shower. I’ll be back.”
His thoughts were focused on the creep. The man stalking her. How he could ruin him, end up. Beating up Cricket hadn't even quenched his thirst for how badly he wanted to ruin him, how he wanted to make him suffer. He wanted him to feel even more terrified than Bunny had been.
The phone call had sent panic up his spine. Knowing she was vulnerable with that man… wasn’t part of the plan. Sure, they were trying to draw him out. But not when she was unprotected.
He let the shower relax some of his muscles as the sweat, grease and leftover blood swirled down the drain leaving his skin bare. His hands flexed, seeing the new bruises and wounds but not really caring. He would take on worse to take vengeance.
The steamy bathroom was his hiding place for a few minutes as he got ready to go back out there. To see Bunny. The guilt he felt wallowed up in his throat, knowing that he hadn’t pushed harder for better people to protect her. The softness of his sweatpants moved up his leg, he plotted how to proceed. How she wasn’t going to like that he wanted to keep her under even more strict protection.
In all honesty, Bunny didn’t know what to think.
She couldn’t remember when exactly he started talking to her, the sound of her own thoughts far too loud to register the sound of Harry’s low rumble.
“Are you listening?” He asked, his shift in tone snapping Y/N out of her bubble.
“Sorry.” She muttered, adjusting her spot on the couch. Y/N had spent the last half an hour sitting on the couch staring off into the one book that was off-center on his shelf. It didn’t really matter what she was looking at when she was going on and on, thinking about what she could have done to have this happen to her.
She knew the answer was nothing. This sick fuck was after her and now it was a game.
“Did you eat?” He questioned, letting out a sigh as she shook her head no. “Y/N, it’s not the time—“
He paused as she looked a bit sick. He had wanted to snap again, get angry she wasn’t taking care of herself. Not only did he feel like an all-around failure but he felt anger towards the man following her, anger towards the ex-prospect he had beaten to a pulp, and anger at the world. But he saw that look, the faraway look on her soft face that didn’t belong there.
“Hey.” He softened his tone. “You need to eat something at least. I’ll grab something for you but you need to take care of yourself. Don’t let this fucker take away this part of your power.”
It was awkward. Harry wasn’t the comforting type, nor did he know how to apologize for being angry at her when he knew realistically it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know the dangers of the world, she didn’t know how truly serious this shit could be.
But he also was angry because she hadn’t wanted to reach out to him. Even at the first sign of something off he would want that. But she was afraid he would get mad? Yell at her. He hadn’t done much to show her any different.
The conflicting emotions and thoughts made his headache, the sting making him pinch the spot between his brows as he leaned his head down.
“I’m making a frozen pizza. The stuffed crust one. You’ll eat some”.
In a weird way, it was him showing affection. Knowing that it was a guilty pleasure of hers, despite how nongourmet it was. They’d gotten one at the store, and he couldn’t think of a more appropriate time.
She didn’t want the stupid frozen pizza.
Any other day she would have leaped at the idea, might have gobbled up the whole pie all on her own but right now she felt more like a caged animal, and not in the way Harry had. It was like he’d been feeding her, watching her before bedtime without addressing anything.
Like how he’d been calling her by her name so comfortably as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Or how he shut her up to focus on pinning his rage on some horny prospect who failed at doing his one job.
The sound of the plate against the coffee table once again pulled her from her thoughts. Y/N almost couldn’t believe she’d been sitting in the same position long enough for the pizza to cook.
Y/N looked up at his expectant face, waiting for her to take a bite. She swore it was the same guy from this morning. The same guy who she slept beside every night, who had kissed her forehead before class, the same guy whose cock she sucked just a few feet from where she was sitting now.
She didn’t think it would bother her now if he had shown even a hint of pity for her. A simple touch.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I want you to eat.”
He felt uncomfortable. It was rare for him, considering the shit he had dealt with had made him a bit unshakable. He was uncomfortable with how she looked like she was staring into the void, avoiding his eyes, quiet as a mouse. She was never quiet. She always was making noise, banging pots in the kitchen, giggling at her phone, talking to him about a show or school… Doing… something.
Bunny wasn’t quiet.
“You’re worrying me. It’s your favorite and you haven’t eaten since breakfast which was a banana.” He remembered her grabbing one on the way out. His face was one of concern, brows furrowed together as he tried to figure out how to get her to just eat and soothe a few of his nerves.
She could only shake her head, not trusting her voice to answer as her eyes started to well up with tears. It would be a snarky remark anyway, wouldn’t help with the situation. He was worried, but she felt like it was for all the wrong reasons.
Taking in a shaky breath she got up, quickly making her way toward the bedroom to have a moment to herself. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again, to think she was weak. It had been hours since the incident but the gut-wrenching feeling hadn’t eased up. She was on edge, her body beginning to shake as the tears she had been holding back finally freed themselves.
Y/N sank down against the door, a violent sob ripping through her. The reality was this wasn’t going to end soon, that this would get worse before it got better, and Harry… well he hadn’t even considered how this would affect her psychologically.
Nothing could have prepared her for the wash of paranoia, the flashbacks to times when she thought she was potentially being watched. He was in her car.
Where else had he been? What else had he seen?
She could hear his footsteps behind her a few seconds later, calling her name in a confused tone as he stopped and wiggled the handle only to find weight in front of the door.
Harry was panicked. Really, he didn’t know what to do in these situations. Why was she crying? Because of the stalker? He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had caused this break in her, but he didn’t like the squeezing of his heart as he waited outside the door with his hand against it.
“Bunny- let me in. Please. What’s wrong?” The edge was in his voice, nerves audible as he felt unsteady. How did he fix this? He didn’t know how to make her feel better or even the source of it fully, his hand knocking again.
Was she hurt? Did something else happen she didn’t tell him about? His mind was swimming with possibilities, none of them good.
“Can you talk to me? I don’t…” he kicked the floor. “I don’t like knowing you’re upset and not being able to help. What is wrong? Can I help?” It was okay, he thought. One moment she was quietly sitting there, albeit unsettled, and now she was letting out gut-wrenching sobs that made his fists clench.
“C’mon, angel. Let me see you.”
Bunny couldn’t silence her sobs despite her attempts at muffling them against her hands. He couldn’t just leave her alone for a moment to feel. He hadn’t all day. It seemed he had been prepared for everything but this.
Y/N let a few moments pass as she collected her breathing once again, knowing she could hold it in for only so long. Swiping the tears from under her eyes and nose, Bunny picked herself up off the hardwood floor to open the door.
Harry hadn’t made that face in years. She swore she had only seen it a handful of times in moments when she couldn’t previously tell Sterling the matter. This time he looked far more perplexed as if he was struggling to read her. Trying to understand.
“Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong?” She dared to ask, a sniffle softening the blow of her tone. Bunny was definitely upset, the rage, however, was a look that he recognized. Harry had seen it plenty of times in the eyes of his enemies and for lack of a better term, haters. He’s never seen such anger in a woman’s eyes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being on the receiving end of it.
“I…” he swallowed, searching her face. “There’s a few things you could be upset about, Bunny. So I have to ask what it is.”
The thing about Harry was that he was a bit oblivious when it came to emotions. To feelings. Y/N knew that. That didn’t mean it hurt any less when he was accidentally an asshole.
He was hesitant, stepping further into the room and closing the door. Was that anger reserved for the stalker? For Cricket? For him? He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing at her, everything in her body language screaming at him to stay away.
“You’re angry. At the stalker, yeah?” He kept his tone soft though his conviction wasn’t strong. He wasn’t sure what she was angry at. It was just very odd to see her like this. Her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks hurt his heart.
“Obviously, yeah!” She groaned, letting herself get up to start pacing the room. She wanted to take her mind off of this, but he just needed to know. “Can’t do anything about that but sit back and wait. You said your guys would handle it. I trust that.” She wasn’t denying the help.
“Is it not enough for me to just… be upset?” Y/N turned to face him, “Everything got so real so quickly and I’m just supposed to get used to it and carry on, yeah?” It made her feel small saying that, but he wanted to know so she’d tell him.
“You wanna help me so bad, maybe listen to me when I say I’m feeling something. Know you’re stressed but it’s not my fault this is happening, it’s already burdening enough.” She felt her eyes well up but she quickly swallowed them down.
“You really hurt my feelings today. Just thought maybe even for a second you could just be there. Like actually be there and not Reaper.”
Harry’s brows wrinkled, his jaw clenching as he went to open his mouth, shutting it again. He couldn’t understand what she meant. A burden? When the fuck had he even implied that?
His anger stemmed from the creep that was following her. Sure he was irritated she hadn’t told him sooner, hurt, even, but she wasn’t the cause of his actions today. In fact, it was the way she had been neglected by someone he had said ok to protect her.
“Hold on for a second.” He said, raising a hand. “You aren’t a Fuckin’ burden. I’ve never said that, nor would I. You’re far from it. I’ve been pissed all day because you trusted me to protect you and someone let you be accessible. In my name.” He exhaled sharply.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was trying to take care of business, Bunny.” He stressed. “It wasn’t to… to make you feel bad or anything. I was so angry that the fucker had gotten to you, that Cricket had left his goddamn post I couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t to hurt your feelings.” He ran his hand through his hair, allowing himself a step closer. “I never, not once, blamed you for my stress. I took this head-on because I fuckin’ care about you. I wouldn’t throw that shit in your face.”
“I didn’t say that either.” She countered, “You know you can take care of business and still show me compassion— I” Bunny let out a frustrated sigh, “I know you didn’t mean it but it felt like it anyway. Kept calling me Y/N, felt like I was a kid getting in trouble. As if you were a stranger.”
She wasn’t sure if she was making much sense but she wanted him to understand.
It was a slight change in his usual tone with her the moment he arrived, the lack of gentleness and how his eyes commanded her instead of watching her for clues like they usually did.
“You told me this wasn’t going to be an easy process, I know that. But you let me into your home, let me lean on you whenever I needed anything and I needed you today and it's like you didn’t even care until you heard me crying and I really don’t need your pity.”
She was irritated and tired and emotionally exhausted. All she wanted was his affection before, she wanted to be held and told it would be okay. Obviously, Harry wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but she wished he could just lighten up. Give her something to work with.
“I’m sorry.” He grunted. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were getting in trouble. I wasn’t thinking about how you’d take that stuff- it’s just…” he tugged on his hair. “It’s really fucking hard when you’re emotionally connected to someone you’re trying to protect.” He stressed. “Usually we’re hired for this shit. There’s no… coddling, comforting, none of that. We get in, eliminate the threats, and then we’re done. We guard with little emotional connection. When it’s you?” He stressed the word. “Feels like every damn misstep is gonna choke me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” He finally placed his hands on her shoulders, making her eyes meet his.
“You get me? If I didn’t do the shit I did today, I’d be pacing around like a caged animal. I’m still fuming. It’s fucked up, yeah, but it’s how I am. I’m sorry I didn’t comfort you, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but…” he tilted his head up to collect himself for a moment before rolling it back down, catching her watery eyes.
“It isn’t something I could let go. You don’t communicate with me either, Bunny. You didn’t tell me. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have noticed but you’ve got to try n’understand, my head is rolling too. You’re in danger and I want to help you, I’m going to, I just need you to be blunt with me. Like how you are now.”
“I tried to tell you!” She muttered, but there was no power behind her words. She had enough of this, emotionally burnt out, blinking quickly to try and stop the tears from rolling but it wasn’t much help.
“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” She knew it wasn’t worth fighting over anymore. It was late and she needed rest. She felt on edge still, like there were eyes were still on her.
Harry didn’t really like her answer, knowing there was something more but was too nervous to push further. Had he gotten too caught up? He told her it would be like this. She was aware of what he was capable of.
“Did I scare you?” He asked suddenly, stopping his own train of thought to wait for her answer.
Harry knew that he was intimidating. He was very much so, considering his road name was quite literally a symbol of death, he was no stranger to violence himself. He’s grown up in it.
Y/N, though, hadn’t. His little Bunny had been sheltered from it all until recently. It had been on purpose from both him and her brother, making sure the ugly parts of their lives didn’t touch her. It seemed that now, though, it had all been in vain.
“I never wanted you to see me like that. M’sure… it wasn’t the most comforting thing, to see me like that. But I need to know if I actually scared you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat despite his dry mouth, gently pulling her back to him.
That would be something he’d never forgive himself for. Anyone else in the world had a reason to fear him, but Bunny? She didn’t have a single reason to have a drop of fear. She was safe from him, she was protected. The one person who should always count on his gentleness.
Y/N shook her head with a definite no. He hadn’t scared her, but he wasn’t exactly the friendliest in that state.
“You didn’t… but I didn’t recognize you and that was scary.” She swallowed thickly, wiping her own tears away while trying to keep eye contact with him. Bunny had nothing to lose, she had nothing to hide from him. The feeling was uncomfortable, slightly embarrassing like she was ashamed to be so open with him emotionally.
“Felt like I couldn’t talk to you… so I wanted to let you know, I didn’t like it.” She finished and took another deep breath in a form of self-soothing, hands fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. It reminded her of the part of her that didn’t even want to wear the skirts anymore. The thought of prying eyes made her regret her fashion choices now more than ever.
Having her privacy invaded made everyday tasks flood her body with anxiety. How long would it be till they caught this guy? How much more was she going to see before they did?
He exhaled heavily as he watched her close in on herself. The poor thing had been through the damn ringer and he surely didn’t help, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to fix any damage he had made. It was weird to see her like this. Suffocating. How he managed to be oblivious before was probably because of the blindness his sheer rage for the man had caused. He had failed to see he neglected the main person he was angry for.
“M’sorry.” He said quietly. “It’s a part of who I am but I didn’t want you to see it. It’s… hard to control myself.” It wasn’t an excuse, no, but it was at least maybe an explanation. It was hard to see her so sad, so shaken up.
He just wanted to fix it.
Harry didn’t give a fuck about many people, but Y/N had wiggled her way into his chest and set up camp. He had been trying to prevent it but it was undeniable now. Maybe that’s why it made him unreasonably angry. It felt extremely personal.
“How do I fix it?”
There wasn’t much she wanted from him but for him to just relax and be himself with her. Something to remind her that it wasn’t always going to be like this.
“Can we lay down?” Bunny was almost afraid to ask, “just want a normal night.”
There was nothing that soft bedsheets and comfy pajamas couldn’t fix. Of course, she had been wearing lots of skimpy clothes around the house and it was comfortable, but today she just wanted to be.
“Can I have one of your shirts please?” They were far more worn in and comfy than anything in her duffle bag, that’s for sure. She made her way to the bathroom to take off her makeup and freshen up, splashing her face with some cold water to help with the heat in her face.
She walked out to see him already in bed, waiting for her as if he was waiting for her next directions.
Harry felt like he was walking on eggshells. He’s never been good at all of this, the comforting, but he was itching to touch her. For some normalcy. His shirt hung on her body as she exited the bathroom, her hair tied up on her head and her legs bare.
He watched her pass him, grab the television remote and turn it on the food network before shutting the lights off and climbing into the bed next to him. His hands folded in front of him as his eyes watched her every move.
“Good?” He murmured, watching her submerge herself in a blanket sea. Her body was covered, head resting on the pillow and her sudden turn away from him made him wince- though not undeserved.
“Can you hold me?” She felt shy as the words fell from her mouth, though the covers helped comfort her. There was a reason she had turned around before asking.
She didn’t want to look at him, she knew it would just create more feelings. Feelings she was trying to suppress but was failing at. Ever since the night, she sucked him off in his kitchen, she felt like she couldn’t get close enough to him.
It was his intimacy she craved, but she couldn’t exactly say it so bluntly. It made her forget everything. He had asked her to be blunt but she was too afraid to make any moves. Not when he had shown her exactly how much it pains him to be teased.
It was probably the last thing he expected, but she felt him shift. The bed made a rustling sound as he placed his phone into the charger and shift onto his side, scooting up to her and gently placing his arm around her waist.
He didn’t know what to expect and it surely hadn’t been this request but he would happily provide some affection if it meant she would relax. His hand rested over her stomach, the heat of it bleeding through the thinner fabric as he pulled her into his body.
“M’sorry, Bunny.” He murmured, leaning down to test his luck with planting a kiss behind her ear. “I’m gonna keep you safe.” She didn’t reply right away. The low murmur of the tv filled the space, the light bouncing off the wall with the different frames but all he could do was listen to her breathing.
He should have done this to begin with, but he’d let the rage overcome everything else. It wasn’t something he should have done at all, but he was going to do his damn best now to make up for it.
“This alright? Want me to move at all?”
A gentle wave of heat and excitement came over her before it started to dissolve in a feeling of warm lingering comfort. Her hand rested over his, fingers locking over his in an attempt to be closer.
The low vibration of his words made her eyes flutter shut, the gentle kiss making the hair stand up on her neck. She was so reactive to him, it wasn’t really helping her with her angry mood. Bunny was softening up by the second in his arms, but she wouldn’t dare ask for more.
Did he know that he could have her however he wanted? It wasn’t often that she could get a man to hear her out, that someone like Harry could actually take a step back and listen to her.
She hoped this wasn’t a one-time thing, hoped he would continue showing her the softness he was showing now. Was she asking for too much? They did say they were pretending, right?
She stopped pretending a long time ago. Come to think of it, she didn’t even remember starting.
—-
Harry woke up to an empty bed.
Something that usually sent relief through him had him stiffening, feeling nervous and panicked for a few moments before hearing the television playing out in the living area and the clink of ceramic. The smell of coffee permeated the space, cluing him into why the bed was empty.
A peek at the clock on the nightstand made him realize it was only 6 in the morning, way too fucking early for Bunny to be up. She couldn’t sleep, it seemed. That wouldn’t do.
He stretched with a grunt, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and padding out of the room to see Bunny at the kitchen counter, flipping through a cookbook she had brought from school. Her body was covered in his shirt and this time, joined by a dark brown knit cardigan from the depth of his hall closet. Cozy and soft, she looked inviting and Harry’s sleepy mind couldn’t help but indulge. Especially with how she had asked for his comfort yesterday, he took a hint.
Arms wrapped around her waist, his nose nudging her neck as he rubbed himself against the hot skin. She’d jumped slightly, relaxing into his hold as she placed the coffee on the countertop.
“You’ve never been an early riser.” He mumbled against her, the cool morning air not agreeing with him. She should be back in bed, however delightful the scene of her in his kitchen was. “Can’t sleep?”
He was so warm.
Hot breath paired with the morning raspiness made her feel weak in the knees. Thankfully, she’d been leaning against the counter. Her eyes fell shut, allowing herself to lean back into him only slightly.
“Too nervous.” She continued her honest streak, though it was a bit of a lie. She had woken up because she was a bit shaken, but she couldn’t fall asleep again with how closely snuggled up she was. If anything it just made her want to be closer to him, skin to skin, maybe even more.
“Were you worried?” Y/N asked teasingly, he could hear the smile on her face. The coffee was long forgotten now, her hands finding their place over his. She decided to let herself indulge in the fantasy, it was the least she could do for herself.
“Yes.” He said quietly. He was worried beyond belief. For a few moments, he realized she was gone and hadn’t placed her yet, he was terrified something went wrong and the creep had gotten inside the place and she had left without telling him.
“It’s ok to be nervous. But you’re safe. Should come back to bed. Too fuckin’ cold out here.” He pulled her further into him, hands grasping under her sweater so he could warm his digits between the layers.
It was so quiet out here besides the tv. She had put it on for background noise, terrified of hearing whatever could be lurking out there. Her head leaned back and rested against him, shivering a little when he pressed another kiss to her skin.
“See? Too cold.” He began to walk backward. “Too early. Come back. Don’t have to sleep. Or talk. Just…” he took a breath, one she could feel against her back. “Don’t be doing anything that’s too far from me. I’ve of t’call and cancel my shit for today anyways.”
For a second she thought she was still dreaming. It all felt too good to be true, he was staying home today?
She didn’t want to get her hopes up, she knew he would likely be busy working and keeping an eye on her. Lately, she had been feeling anxious about leaving the house, so when she wasn’t in class she was usually at home finding ways to occupy herself.
It was rare that he joined her for anything other than meals or just for a few hours before bedtime, so it would feel like a little treat to get to spend the day with him.
A giggle escaped her lips as he began pulling her from the counter and back to the bedroom, her hands grabbing the remote just in time to turn the tv off before they were down the hall and in his bedroom again.
The smell was enough to have her relaxing, letting Harry place her wherever he wanted her.
Harry may be an asshole, but he was an asshole who tried to learn and make up for his mistakes. Guilt still sweltered in his chest as he felt her happily be dragged into the bedroom again.
Right now, it was making her feel safe. That was his only goal. Keeping her here and happy and relaxed the best he could considering he had been so preoccupied. She needed a break and so did he.
Once he got her into the bed again, cardigan on the floor, blankets over their bodies, lights off, he asked her one of his only requests of the day.
“I know you’ve got classes but… I really think you should stay home today.” He approached it cautiously. “You’re still a bit sensitive, didn’t sleep… I don’t feel comfortable sending you off where he had just felt comfortable getting in your car.”
She could see on his face that he was trying to not be overbearing. It was coming from a place of care, a spot of concern. Her nails played with the necklace twisted up, untangling it as he spoke. There was an intimacy to it, but a hesitation to look up at him.
“I don’t want to make it worse but… I think you need a break.”
“I won’t go today… but I don’t want him to think he got to us,” Y/N explained, still focused on the necklace. “I-I just have this feeling in my stomach like he’s going to pull something and I don’t know what it is but it doesn’t feel good.”
The moment she read the note she knew it was just the beginning. She wasn’t sure what message she wanted to send, but Harry was right, she needed at least one day.
It pained her to miss classes, she genuinely loved her classmates and loved cooking. It was fun every day. She felt completely free and at ease, for the hours she was in that building. Harry did have more experience with stalkers though. Maybe he did know best.
“I-I don’t want to be here by myself though and I know you’re really busy, so I really don’t have a problem with going— it will give you time to do things still.”
“M’not gonna leave you alone. I’m staying with you.” He murmured, frowning slightly. Of course, he understood the assumption but he wished she would have the opposite. That she would just think he would drop everything for her.
“I’m not going to let him get to you, love. I hope you know that. M’not gonna let him hurt you.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “I know I’ve been a bit shit at this so far, but I’d rather have my hand cut off than let him get anywhere near you. I’ll take him out as soon as I can. But for today… let’s just sit here and recharge.”
She had an extremely rough day yesterday and part of him really wanted to make it up to her, while the other half simply wanted her to rest. Who knew what the stalker was going to pull next?
All he knew was that he was going to take care of her.
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Kinkmas 🎄 № 2: Voyeurism
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summary: harry takes you to amsterdam. 
word count: 4.2k
reading time: 18 min.
content warnings: 18+, sex toys, public sex, sex work(ers), teasing, oral (f reciving), manhandling (if you squint), d/s undertones (harry is just a little bossy is all), pet names (baby, lovie, good girl, pretty girl) implied bi/pan!reader, fxf scene, f solo scene, fxm scenes are also described as well. very obvious ignorance to sex work/sex clubs. 
a/n: now i wanna go to Amsterdam. brb booking my flight! 
________________
Harry prided himself on his ability to plan a trip for the two of you. From beginning to end, you never had a care in the world on these trips other than what dress you would wear to dinner. Even then, Harry often made his preference very clear by digging into your bag while you showered and laying out his pick for the night (accessories included, of course). You didn't mind being his little doll; you liked it when he picked out something for you. It made you feel special; you'd yet to figure out why, but you didn't question it too much. Not when every part of your trip was planned, from the moment you woke up to breakfast in bed to some activity fit for each day to dinner reservations each night. Harry had it all covered. 
You found yourselves on this trip in Amsterdam. 'Just because,' he said. And that was a good enough reason for you to get another stamp on your passport. You've done all the tourist spots thus far. All but one. Until tonight. 
Tonight, you were headed to a show. A show in the redlight district. 
So, what you cheated this time. You saw the confirmation email on Harry's phone from the theater earlier, did a quick Google search, and now your stomach is in knots. In a good way, nervous anticipation more than anything. But still, you had to remain calm. Tonight was a surprise, so you needed to be surprised. 
Harry was sure you were going to be. Regardless of how horrible your acting had been, trying to pretend like you didn't know where you were headed, he knew you too well. He knew you saw the confirmation and damn near planned it for you to see. Harry knew your curiosity would eat at you, and you'd inevitably do your own research. But he also knew that you'd only go searching so far. He hopes he's staying within your boundaries with this one. That this all wasn't too much. But by the way, you're fumbling at the vanity, trying to do the finishing touches to your make-up and hair, telling him you are more than ready for tonight. 
You fumble through your make-up bag in search of a specific brush when Harry comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple. 
"Almost done, baby. I know we are on a timer." you rush out, eyes meeting him in the mirror briefly, not noticing that only one hand is on your waist. The other is behind his back, holding something. 
"Don't rush; we're more than okay on time." he smiles, pressing a hiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that wakes you up. "Can I ask you to hold onto something for me?" 
You don't look up from what you're doing in front of the mirror; you don't even see what he's holding up. "You have a million pockets, bab-" your eyes widen when they meet his in the mirror after locking eyes with what's in his hand. "You brought that on the plane!" you whisper, through a smile, turning towards him, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. In his hand was what was slowly becoming your favorite toy that you and Harry had added to your 'playtime.' It was your remote control butterfly-esque toy. It was meant to fill you up just enough while the buzzing base hit right up against your clit just right. You've discussed wearing it in public before but never thought he would commit to the idea. You can't believe he'd brought it. Happy, excited, even, but nervous. 
"I did. Specifically for tonight. Thought it would be appropriate for where we're going?" 
"Where could we possibly be going where that's appropriate?" you smirk, playfully batting at his chest. 
"You'll see," he smirked, taking a moment to read your face. "Look, I know we've only ever used this guy in the bedroom, but I thought it would be fun tonight. If you are uncomfortable, we can scratch -" 
"No!" you rush out, reaching for it in his hand. "I just mean - what were you thinking?"
"Well, I don't want to give away the whole surprise, but it starts with this," He emphasizes by bringing your attention to the toy, "Going inside of my pretty girl." he smirks, looking between your legs, "after I have a taste of course," he adds. 
"Oh, well, of course," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. 
"Right. So once I've had my fill of my peach, then this will go nice and snug inside your pussy," Harry says with a smile before he brings his hand up from your hip to your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, his eyes blown out in lust. "And you're going to hold it in there for me. All night until we get back here. Hopefully, if you are up for it, I'll be spending the rest of our last night between your legs. Letting you see Amsterdam from your favorite angle, baby." He rasps, dipping his down and crashing his lips to yours. 
On your back. 
You giggle into the kiss. It was a silly thing you'd said when you were in Paris. You had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. You are unsure how he did it; regardless, it was an ideal view. And yet you spent most of the trip, seeing it upside down, while on your back, head dangling off the side of the bed as Harry had worked, orgasm after orgasm from you. You'd then joked that you'd want to see every city with him on your back. Seeing the Eiffel Tower upside down was your favorite way to see it. So it's kind of become a tradition of sorts to have mind-blowing sex in each city you visit together, at least once.  
Harry has taken it to be a challenge to get you that high off him, to say something just as goofy in every city, and if that meant you were on your back, well….it was tradition. He leans in, deepening the kiss, "How's that sound?" He pulls away and chuckles at your eyes, still fluttering open. 
"Good. yeah." 
"Yeah? This is okay?" he asks, seriously, his tone sweet as pie. 
"Yeah. It…could be fun. Just try not to embarrass me too with it too bad," you joke with a sigh, and Harry shakes his head insistently. 
"Never. I'd never embarrass you with this. This is for us, for you. S' not to make a spectacle of you. I'd never." 
"I know," You giggle into a kiss, trying to shake some of your nerves. 
"I just want you to know. Now," He smirks devilishly down at you, lust clouding over his eyes, "Can I?" 
You cross your arms across your chest, "I don't know, can you?" you mock, finally getting to pull his favorite word 'gotcha' on him. And he groans, gripping your jaw again, playfully growling at you. 
"You brat." he sighs at you. He leans down, kissing you deep, before pulling away just enough. "May I?" he asks, eyes never leaving yours. "Please." 
"You may." you breathe out.
You barely have time to register his movements. He's on his knees before you, hiking your dress up your thighs in seconds. He looks up at you with a devilish grin as he shimmies your panties down your thighs. You kick them to the side, and Harry grabs hold of one of your thighs, hooking it over his shoulder, "Lean back, baby. Hold onto the sink." He smirks before planting sloppy kisses up each of your thighs. Slow and intimate.  
Harry wasn't a fan of quickies. Sure, you'd had a few here and there, but they were never Harry's style. He never rushed, not with you. And especially not when he was given the privilege of going down on you. No, he was going to savor every moment he got to spend between your thighs. Knowing that he was the only one to see you from this angle. 
When his lips finally did land where you'd been wanting them, it was just a light peck to your folds. Followed by a long bold lick from your entrance to your clit. 
"Harry, we don't have time." You whine, wanting him to devour you like you both know he wanted to. 
"Shhh, don't you worry about that," he coos, placing another kiss on your thigh, "just relax." He returned his lips to your folds and did what Harry does best. Take you to heaven. He went slow at first, alternating between licking up and down your folds and sucking on your clit. His hands roamed and groped, pulling you down further onto his tongue. He licked and sucked, twirled his tongue. God, was he amazing with his mouth. And never was he stingy in blessing you with his oral talents. He was so lost in you, drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, Harry nearly forgot about his original plan. It wasn't until he felt your fingers twist into his hair, tugging ever so slightly with a whine, that he was brought back down to earth. 
"Can I ask you for one more thing, baby?" He asks against your pussy. You look down at him, eyes blown out in lust, nodding vigorously. You were so close. 
"Mmhmm, anything." You keen, tugging at his hair some more. 
"I need you to come for me. Can you do that?" He asks, looking up at you, slowly inserting his middle finger inside. 
Your mouth falls open, eyes still locked on Harry on his knees for you. "Mmmhmm." You nod. 
"Good girl," He coos, and your stomach flips at the praise, "You come for me, and then I'll give you the toy, and you keep it for the rest of the night, okay?" Again, all you had the brain power to do was nod at him, tugging his hair, pulling him closer. 
You could feel the spring in the pit of your stomach; you were right there. "Harry-"you keen, 
"That's it, baby, come on." He encourages, curling his fingers up, dragging them in and out of you at a pace that has you spinning. "Come on my fingers, baby." 
It's all you need. Harry's permission before you come undone on one of his hands while the other arms hold you up. He works you through your first orgasm of the night, pulling it from you with every drag of his fingers. You barely have time to fully come down before you feel him removing his fingers and inserting the toy. It's slightly thicker than Harry's fingers, so the fit is somewhat snug, but the feeling is phenomenal. 
Harry straightens up once the toy is in place and you've caught your breath. He shimmies your panties back up your legs and straightens your dress out for you. You wrap your areas around his shoulders, bringing him close to you, and he places a sweet peck on your forehead and nose before kissing your lips, just enough for you to taste yourself. "You okay?" He smiles. 
"Yeah. Thank you." You breathe out, your head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm, your legs still a little weak. 
"You don't have to thank me every time I make you come, baby." He chuckles. 
"I know. But still." You shrug, leaning your forehead against his for just a moment. You two stood momentarily while you came down, holding each other against the sink. 
"Can you finish getting ready for me?" He asks, bringing you back to the present. 
"Yeah - just a few minutes." you smile. He looked down at you with a proud grin on his face.
"I'll be out there," he looks down at his watch and chuckles. "Okay, maybe now we are on a bit of a time crunch, but still - baby, don't rush." He places a quick kiss on your temple. "I will be by the door when you're ready." 
'I'll be by the door' was Harry Speak for 'I love you, but you have ten minutes.' You shake your head and opt for a quick brown contour on your eyes to give you some life rather than your planned smoky eye. You topped off the look with some mascara and gloss. It's a nice no-make-up look. 
Perfect for a sex show - Buzzzz. You jolted forward. 'He's a mind reader, isn't he?' You think. How else could he have perfectly cued the vibrating egg to go off at the mere thought of tonight's plans?  
"Lovie - come on," Harry calls from the front of the hotel with a smirk ever so present in his voice. 
Bastard. You curse him in your head, trying to keep your moans at bay. Just when you think you feel like you feel the beginnings of that tingly feeling that starts at the base of your spine once more, it stops. And Harry comes around the corner, no indication on his face that he's the reason you've been hunched over in here rather than out there with him. "You ready?" 
Shit. You hated this game. You were terrible at it. But it was Harry's favorite. 
The game? Harry worked you up, with you doing the same, while you both played coy and ignored the other's attempts until someone broke. That someone was nearly always you. 
"Yes." You squeak out, straightening your dress out. "Fuck." you say out loud. How would you keep this thing in you with a dress if he plans on doing that all night? 
"Everything okay?" he asks condescendingly. 
"Fine." you breathe out. You were not going to let Harry win at this that easy. "I'm fine, let's go. I'm ready." He smiles at you, proud of your attempt to keep the game going. Tonight was going to be so fun for you both. 
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Harry kept you huddled into his side as you moved through the brisk December streets of Amsterdam. Your coat was more style than function, and Harry, ever the gentleman, sacrificed his own for you to stay warm. 
"We're just about - Oh. Here it is." he slows down, pulling you behind him to a door along a strip of stores that looked abandoned. He feels the weight of you stopped behind him. "I promise this is the place." Still, you don't budge, "I have it on good authority that this is the place," he smirks. 
"Who's authority, Harry?" You whisper for some reason, but this feels like the part of town where you whisper. Without answering, he turns his back to you, looking down at his phone again before knocking on the door several times and pocketing it. And it opens. Harry gives a vague riddle, and the next thing you know, you are being pulled behind a doorway in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. 
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It's a theater. A rather large one, with three stages, or one big stage with two diving walls. Each location was wide enough to have stairs leading from the vast audience to each stage. In the back was a bar, lit dimly with a few scattered patrons. But in the center of the room, the audience seating was…different. 
For one, the place was packed with patrons. For seating, there were booths and small tables, but closer to the stage were cabana-type seating, with some sort of private walls made of flowy dark satin curtains. The whole space was draped in dark purple, black, and gold. The lights were low, completely dim, if not for the stage light and the small lamps scattered about on some tables. The music was quiet yet thumping. You could feel the bass in your chest, and the vibrations did nothing to help the ache between your thighs. 
But, the stages. 
That's where the center of all attention in the large room was and where your eyes were glued the entire time Harry pulled you through the theater to your reserved booth. 
"Sit, baby." Harry smiles, tugging your hand for you to follow him into the rounded booth. You look down at him, then behind you, realizing you are blocking people's view. "You like it?" Harry asks, draping an arm around your shoulder as you shrug off his jacket, draping it across your lap. Covering what your dress doesn't. 
My clever girl, Harry thinks. 
"Is this -" 
"This is the show," he whispers down into your ear. "See, each one is a different stage of arousal. See?" he explains, looking out onto the stages. You get a perfect view of all three stages from where you two are seated. You notice a few smaller platforms scattered throughout the room and at either side of the stage, to the right and left. On each platform stood a woman, fully exposed, moving to the music and flowing with the lights that danced across her skin. It was art. 
On the stage closest to you and Harry was a couple, a man and a woman. He was much larger than her, similar to you and Harry's size difference. He towered over her as he caressed her cheek. Their movements were slow and sensual but deliberate as they stood center stage, with nothing but a chair on stage beside them. You were so focused on them and the music and the lights you didn't notice Harry reaching into his pocket, retrieving the remote for the toy. Only when it was too late did you realize. As you feel the toy's vibrations, you reach over, gripping Harry's knee underneath the tiny cocktail table. A small squeak escaped your lips. 
"Shhh…baby, be good. Be quiet for me, okay?" 
"Yeah." you quip out, digging your nails into his thigh, causing him to hiss. 
"Use me how you need, baby," he whispers tightly into your ear, and you have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning out in this theater. Not that anyone would hear the music and the noises coming from the women on the stage; there must have been microphones on stage with how clear their moans rang through the room.  
Another woman was on the stage to the far right of where you were. She was alone, besides the assortment of toys next to her, but by the looks and sounds of it, she didn't need any of it. No, she was doing just fine the old-fashioned way.  
Then you take in the stage to the left of you. You have to turn your head a little to get a full view of it all, and once you do, the grip on Harry's knee tightens. It was two women in the throws of passion, in a position you've only ever dreamed of. They lay on each of their sides, facing opposite directions, faces buried in each other's thighs. 
"I picked this show for them. Especially. I know you'd love them." He turns the vibrator up, but only a nudge, still a low hum, and nothing to write home about. But with the images and sounds surrounding you, it was enough to drive you mad. His lips linger at your year a second too long, his breath sending those pleasant tingles all over your body. "And Him," he says, drawing your attention back to the stage closest to you. 
The couple is half dressed now, her breasts exposed, and he - well, you know why Harry said what he did. The man was a sight to behold. He couldn't hold a candle to Harry size-wise, but he was impressive and above average. And he didn't even appear to be fully erect. The woman was working on changing that, it seemed. You watched as she took his impressive length into her much smaller hand and pumped him slow, up and down. You looked over at Harry, who couldn't keep his eyes off you. 
"You're missing the show," you whisper as he licked his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth. You mirrored his action. 
"No, I'm not." He smirked, "Eyes, forward." he demanded softly. He turns up the vibe once again as you watch the woman drop to her knees in front of the man, who's opted to sit in the provided chair. From the way he is sitting in the chair to the side, you have a perfect view of the woman wrapping her lips around him with a pornographic moan. You couldn't help but suck in a breath. Suddenly, you were longing for the weight of Harry to be on your tongue. To feel him fill your mouth, your throat, to hear him groan as you reached up to play with his balls. You craved it. 
 For a split second, you looked around the crowded room. You are taking in the sights and sounds. There were a couple of groups, some people kissing and some whispering to one another, but every eye was locked on that stage. All except Harry, that is. You turn your attention back on the two girls, and they're both cuddled up to each other on a makeshift bed of sheets and pillows on stage, basking in an assumed post-orgasm glow. Harry catches the pout on your lips immediately. 
"I missed it." 
"You better pay attention then," He chuckles, "with all your sense. Not just sight. Listen, smell…feel." 
Feel. 
Oh, this damn egg! The hum of the vibrator is ever-present between your thighs now. Though it's not enough vibration to relieve the ache that's developed, it is starting to get you to that place that makes you warm and fuzzy rather quickly. And you want more, need more. So you turn to face him, landing a sweet peck on his lips. Then, leaning your forehead to his for a moment and leaning into his ear, whispering, "Harry, can I get more, please." You beg, sweetly. He pulls you away from him by the chin, kissing your nose. 
"No. Watch the show." He says and smiles when you huff at him, wiggling in the booth for some much-needed relief, your attention back to center stage. He pinches your arm lightly, "Don't do that, either. You know the rules. Take what I give you." he recites. You nod in understanding and try to focus on the show center stage. 
The woman has the man's cock fully down her throat now, and she sucked him with such enthusiasm, and his head was thrown back in such ecstasy it nearly gave you cock envy. When she finally came up for air with an animated throw of her head, she stood up from her spot between his legs before sitting on his lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulder. She leans in, kissing him slowly as his hands roamed all over her body. Groping, and kneading…spanking. That's when you feel his lips on your neck. And you are going to lose your mind. Was this hot? Absolutely. But you needed Harry like you've never before, and being unable to do anything about it was killing you. 
"Harry, I don't know how much longer I can-"You were close. Embarrassingly close. 
"Okay." He hums, and the next thing you know, the vibrations between your legs stopped. You let out a deep sigh, something mixed with frustration and relief. "There, now….you can focus. Watch them." Harry instructs. 
So you do. You watch. You watch as she slowly takes his length into her hand, pumping him a few moments before sinking down onto him. You hear her moans as she gets fully seated on him, setting a pace. Harry couldn't help but watch and hear your breath hitch as hers did. Knowing what you were thinking, knowing that you were thinking about him. How he feels inside you, stretching you out, making you feel full. He knew because he couldn't help but think about the same. 
As the woman on stage picked up her pace, bouncing on the man's cock up and down, swiveling her hips, you felt it again. The buzzing of the toy between your thighs. 
"Harry," you whisper, gripping onto his thigh again. 
"Shhh, you're okay," he assures but places a quick peck on your shoulder, momentarily drawing your attention to him. "Do you want it off?" He asks, checking in. 
"No!" you rush out, and he smiles at Cheshire's grin before turning it up two more notches. Your grip on his thigh tightens as you bite your lip, turning back to the stage. 
She is close now, you can tell. Her pace is quicker more frantic, and the noises. God, the noises she was making were heavenly, mixed with his groans as you watched him lunge forward, attaching his lips to her chest. 
Harry takes his other hand that wasn't wrapped around you, tangling his fingers with yours, giving them a comforting squeeze. 
"Harry, please." 
"No, baby." He says sternly. He knew what you were asking for, and as much as he hated saying no to you, he wouldn't let you come in public. Even if you were hidden by the walls of the tall booth, even if no one was watching, he would never allow it. When it came to you, Harry was selfish, and when it came to your pleasure and who got to see you in your most intimate moments, he was downright protective. 
Just as the woman on stage reached her peach, you were about to tell Harry that you couldn't hold it. That you couldn't take anymore without coming, the vibrator stops. You lean over, resting your head on Harry's shoulder. 
"I was so close." you pout.
"I know. But I'll take care of you when we get back. I promise."
🎄🎄🎄🎄
kinkmas 2023 masterlist 
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cherry-titz · 6 months
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A spooky @cherryjuiceblues and @1800titz collaboration.
Y/N doesn’t do hitchhikers.
And still, she slips her hand over the unlock button, and the doors click to signal unshuttering as the man culls his wallet and stuffs the cash back in, sticking that back into his jeans. She watches him wind around her car, his gait trailing behind, and her eyes follow his side profile, bathed in the red of the brake lights, through the rear-view. The passenger door slips open. She rolls her window the rest of the way up.
STAY TUNED
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xx-thedarklord-xx · 3 months
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Sam's Weekly Wrap Up 3!
Week three is done! | Week One | and | Week Two |
Secrets Undone (the Lightning Order) It started out as a secret. Their love was hidden just between the two of them until it became a revolution. One where Harry and Draco would change the world. He just had to pass his O.W.L examinations first.
Imaginary Playground Draco owns the biggest toy store in Diagon Alley, and he makes all of the wooden toys himself. Business is good, but his favorite part of the day is when his favorite customer brings in their father, even if that father is Potter.
Memos of Originality Harry owns a publishing company, and his best employee is Malfoy, who sends daily updates from home, but doesn't realize that Scorpius sends his own daily updates to Harry through the Floo every morning. And Harry? Well, he knows exactly what to do with them.
Not Needed Harry Potter went missing the night the Potter’s died. The Magical world looked for him but to no avail. No Hogwarts letter was ever sent, no messy mop of black hair appeared on the first day of school. To the rest of the world he was as good as dead.
A shame that no one counted on adoption.
Gift of Love Christmas Eve, sneak attacks, a mild prank war and a gift filled with so much love that Harry knows it's the best Christmas he'll ever have.
Darkest Shadows Shadows. Shadows were everywhere. They followed Harry, whispered to him, promised him the world. All he had to do was use them, control them, guide them—become them. Harry became the shadows but also mastered them at the same time.
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kagariasuha · 8 months
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Slytherin Harry. Inspired by "Sunspots" by @crowcrowcrowthing.
Read: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34675228/chapters/86331985
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harrysonlylover · 8 months
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She strolls over to him dramatically, her heels clicking on the marble ground as he balances himself using his elbows. As soon as she’s near his body she raises her leg and presses her heel into his chest to stop him from getting up. He simply lifts his gaze feeling too enchanted by her , not caring about the pain that he feels due to the sharpness of her heel.
She expects him to flip her leg or use one of his moves that’ll give you a good time in the ER, but instead he locks eyes with her and slowly inches his face forward before leaving a lingering kiss to her ankle accompanied with his devil grin, more like angel of death.
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Assassin H Coming Soon
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