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#harry styles smut
sweetcanyonmoon · an hour ago
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the serpent and the lion
Chapters: 9
Words: 107k
Rating: Explcit
Summary:
Seventh year Hogwarts AU in which Harry Styles is a Gryffindor jock, Louis is just trying to get through the year, and Liam, Zayn, and Niall rarely ever know what the hell is going on.
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punkcupcakestyles · an hour ago
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Just One More Time
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Masterlist
Part 3 Sneak Peek
You considered yourself a smart girl, but then again, you didn’t need to be smart to understand why Harry could get away with murder if it ever came down to it.
He was charming, too charming you might say, with a smile that could bring the devil to his knees (knock on wood, just in case). So you stared at him at every little opportunity you got, hoping he didn’t notice as you stole little glances at the marvel he was. Like when he stood just right, and a halo of light surrounded him, cutting around the edges of his body, making him look like some spirit, just chilling around the earth, raising havoc until he got bored.
Frankly, it was fucking annoying.
“You ok over there?” He asked, and it was difficult to miss the cocky smirk that curled his lips up. He knew the cause of your distraction, as he walked around in just a towel precariously wrapped around his hips. He knew you were staring at him, watching the beads of water as they made their way to his navel. How could you not?
“Peachy,” you muttered. “I have an idea.”
“I’m listening.”
Harry sat down on the bed, his bed, and looked at you as curiosity shone in his green eyes. Stripped down as he was, with nowhere to hide, there was no denying he was pretty.
“We should have a punch card,” you said, sitting up to look at him better.
“Except when we’re done with this one, we won’t get a free milkshake?”
“Well...you can still invite me a milkshake, if that’s what you want,” you shrugged. You hoped that it hadn’t sounded like you were suggesting he did.
“Would it be so bad if we went over our agreement?” Harry asked, which made you feel instant relief. No, he hadn’t thought you were desperate, that’s always good.
“No, but wouldn’t it be a shame if we missed even one?”
“I assure you, I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have one.” Like a countdown timer or a keepsake so you would never forget it.
“Whatever you want. I would just forget the damn thing.”
“Can I just say the second part of my idea, or are you gonna keep bitching?”
“Complaining,” Harry muttered under his breath, turning around to look at you.
“What?”
“I wasn’t bitching, I was complaining. Manly so.”
It made you laugh because you were dumb like that, and because he had said it dead serious, an important addition to your conversation. Your eyes were closed and your belly hurt from the lack of air, and your lips were full of silent bursts of laughter as if you had run out of sounds in your body.
Harry took that as an opportunity to grab you by your ankle and pull you down the bed until you were lying next to him. You didn’t know how it happened, hadn’t even noticed when he lied down, but there you were, flushed to his chest as the last bubbles of giggles died quietly in your lips, and his arm looped around your waist. A soft smile printed on his lips as he looked at you, and he kindly gave you a couple of seconds to recover your breath. If he were a hunter and you were the prey, you’d be fucked.
“You were saying?” He whispered. What were you saying?
“Oh,” you said, which was never a great way to start anything. But his green eyes were looking at you with such intensity that it was hard to focus. You could hear the loud beating of his heart, or maybe it was yours, you weren’t so sure anymore. “I, uh, I...I think…” You closed your eyes, because this definitely wasn’t working, and took a deep breath before you opened them again. Now you could try again. “I think...if you’re the one that cums, it doesn’t count.”
“Ok,” he smirked.
“And if I do, but it’s like...with my fingers, or like a toy, or something, it doesn’t count either.”
“So…” Harry said, and it was hard for you to ignore just how close he was, or the soft feeling of his fingers trailing down your back. “Edging, toys, and masturbation? I think I can do that.”
“Say those words again,” you smiled at Harry, a little hopeful, a little sarcastically. And he didn’t, he kissed you instead, rolling on the bed so he was pinning you down with the weight of his body. And yes, he was the one trapping you, but you didn’t let go. His skin felt fresh under your fingertips as you grazed them over his spine. It felt good, so good that his smile broke the kiss and his eyes fluttered open to look at you.
For a second there, you thought he was going to say something deep, you could almost taste the minty words against your lips, holding your breath as you looked at the marvelous secrets hidden in his eyes. Without saying a word, Harry dipped his head down to the curve of your neck and pressed his lips to your skin. It was a soft kiss and you breathed in deeply as you felt his tongue lapping over your sweet spot, right over the dip of your neck.
“I should go,” you whispered, even though you certainly didn’t want to leave.
“Hhmmm,” Harry agreed, even though he certainly didn’t want to let you go.
He kissed you on the lips so lavishly you were almost breathless, and you forgot whatever you were thinking about, nothing seemed important at that very moment, other than the fact that his lips were sweet and his warm breath was fanning over your skin as the weight of his body pinned you down to a bed.
“I really should go.” Your words were barely a whisper that died in his lips, as Harry kissed you again, fully, slowly. The towel around his waist was long gone, and you could feel his bare skin on yours, the taut muscles of his legs pushing to the back of your thighs as your legs wrapped around his, and the heated feel of his cock lining up to your center as you ground your hips to get him close.
“You should,” Harry said, leaving kisses down your jaw and neck, and grazing his tongue on the dip of your collarbones. He didn’t move, nor did he let you go and you arched your back so he was closer to you. “Maybe later?” He asked and you had to giggle and open your eyes to look at him.
“Maybe later what? You’ll fuck me? Or we fuck now and I go home later?”
“Why not both? We fuck now and you come back later and we fuck again?”
“‘Cause then we’ll only have one chance left.”
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harrysmaraschino · an hour ago
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When Y/N applied to study at the art school located in Golden Hills, a small city hidden amoung the mountains, blessed by a beautiful coastal line that is known to captivate large ammounts of turists all year around, she would’ve never guessed that she would find herself willingly stepping into a subculture in which the limits are as blurry as the feelings she shares for Harry, a green-eyed boy with long hair, black clothes and a very messy heart.
Listen to the “Damaged Goods” Spotify Playlist: Here Listen to Harry's “Silly Love Songs” Spotify Playlist: Here “Damaged Goods” Masterlist: Here
Genre: Enemies to Lovers | College AU
Warnings: Smut*, Cursing, Alcohol & Drug Use, Borderline Abusive Behavior
Wordcount: 17K
Read This:
• This story will mention actions that may be considered as borderline abusive, such as public humiliation and verbal abuse. If you’re sensitive to any of these subjects I advise you not to read it.
• Even though one of the main characters in this story is inspired by a real person (Harry Styles), I purposefully avoided mentioning his last name because writing explicit things under his name made me feel uncomfortable, since he never conceded me the right to write about him.
• Every character mentioned in this story is a legal and consenting adult.
• Although the events narrated are completely fictional, they’re inspired by real college traditions that I’ve experienced myself. I later realized that understanding these traditions may be a little challenging if you’re not already familiar with them, so if you’re curious or want to know more about them feel free to ask. A/N: There's some fucking 😏
Chapter XI - Silly Love Songs*
Harry's smell still lingers on Y/N’s clothes as she silently walks down the residence’s long hallway. Any trace of purple on her lips now far gone, and holding the pair of black combat boots she’d left her room with in one of her hands, since she had decided to remove them at the entrance, for the sake of any sleeping neighbors she might have. Her socked feet pat quietly against the unclean flooring tiles. A silly smile she isn’t aware of is painted on her lips as she recalls her favorite parts of the conversations she’d had with Harry throughout the night. There is something wild pumping in her veins, something that is making her want to run back the yards that now separate her from him. She wants to come knocking on his door, slither into his bed and fall asleep with the awareness of his body being right there, hopefully glued to hers in a sleepy warm embrace. She won’t go though. Not only because she needs to change her pad, get something to eat, take off her make-up and brush her teeth, but also because even though Harry seems to enjoy her company, he hasn’t invited her to stay the night with him, and she really doesn’t want to come off as pushy or obtrusive by showing up at his door uninvited in her cuffed pajama bottoms at 3am. The desire still haunts Y/Ns mind though, as she cattily rotates the knob and pushes her dorm’s door open, careful not to wake her roommate. “Where have you been?” Ameena’s familiar voice startles you. She was sitting on her bed, with her legs crossed. Waiting for you in pitch darkness like a mom waiting for her unreliable teenage daughter to come home after a night out. “What are you doing still awake?” You hiss, flicking the light up on your way inside. “Waiting for you, -- obviously.” She flat out acknowledges. “Where did you go? And don’t even think about lying to me because I know you’ve told our friends you were with me, only I-” She takes her hand to her chest. “haven’t seen you all night.” You shrug lightly. - “I was with Harry.” You say in the most flat-out tone possible as you hurry on removing your practically homemade costume piece by piece, hoping Ameena would mistake your casualty for a clear conscience. “Oh.” She voices, with an unexpected punch of surprise in her tone, making you tilt your head to look in her face. “No, I knew that.” She clarifies swiftly. “I just wasn’t expecting that you would admit to it so quickly.” “You did?" Your brows pinch alarmingly. "How?" You should've left it at that, but you don't... Instead you ask something stupid, that fuels Ameena's glimmerings even more. "Did you... uh... see anything weird?” “Why?" She pushes, as her face screws with inquisitiveness, and perhaps some amusement as well. "Was there anything weird for me to see?” “No, no..." You try shaking your head to give emphasis to the word, but it's not working. "I was just wondering how you could be so sure.” You add, albeist jittery and feeling like, at this point, your face might've as well just have the word 'blameworthy' written all over it. “Because he went missing as well, at the same time you did…” “That doesn’t mean anything. There were lots of people at that party.” You dismiss her statement, throwing your used party clothes over your desk with a conclusive huff. “I’m gonna go make myself a bowl cereal." You inform fleetly, as you start kicking out the slippers half hidden under your bed before clumsily sliding your feet inside them. "Do you want anything from the kitchen?” “I want you to quit trying to throw dust into my eyes and talk to me about what is going on between you two once and for all.” Ameena asked, groaning with annoyance. - “Oh, and -" Her face lights up and she raises her finger up to call your attention. "A packet of Java Chip Oreos, please. -- and one of your mango juice boxes as well, since you asked.”
** Roughly five minutes later Y/N was walking back inside the room. And watching her roommate’s tired expression lift once she threw the juice and the small packet of coffee flavored cookies at her. She tore it apart immediately, moaning mid-bite like the cookie was the best piece food she had ever had in her life. “Why do sweet treats always taste so much better when you’re on a diet?” “I have no idea… but it’s 3am. No one’s eating healthy at 3am anyway.” You sat in your bed facing her, bending your body in a similar cross-legged position just so that you could position the bowl filled with your favorite cereal over your lap. “Agreed. 3am is for sugary snacks and unappeasable mistakes only.” Ameena said as she tore open the wrapping of the box’s small straw, pulling and bending it before poking it through the box. “Speaking of mistakes…” She remarked, taking the pink straw between her teeth and sucking lightly. “Are you planning to tell me what you’ve been up to tonight or are you going to make me guess? Cause I’ve got a whole list of sacrilegious options I’ve been conjuring while you were gone, and I would be more than happy to-” “No! No, thank you. There’s no need to go there.” You held your hand out to stop her from speaking any further. You took a spoon of cereal to your mouth, chewing slowly as you debated on how to go on about the whole thing. Should you cut the crap once and for all and just tell her everything? Should you just paint the big picture, or should you stick to your initial wish and keep things just between you and Harry? But with the way your friend was gawking and wiggling in place, you could she was starting to get hot under her collar with the sudden muteness from your part, so you figured the least you could do was tell her the nuts and bolts of your night. “Honestly not much, -- we just went for a beer...” A grin pulls at her mouth, eager to finally get some enlightenment on her speculations. "And then he brought me home. -- that's it.” She hummed over the ruffling sound of the wrapper as she stuck her fingers back inside, digging for another cookie. It was one of those compelling hums aimed for you to keep going. “Was that all? Didn’t anything else happen?” She locked eyes with you. “Didn’t he like, try to make a move to kiss you or something?” “Um…” You peeped at her from the top of your lashes, with your lips wrapped around the metal spoon you'd just taken to your mouth. - “We uh, -- I guess we both kind of did, yeah.” “Okay, … What the fuck?!” Ameena chokes on her cookie, some fractions of it flying directly from her mouth as she coughs with surprise. “You’ve been pining over that man for months. How are you not screaming in happiness right now?” “Excuse me?” You babbled offendedly. “I have NOT been pining over him.” “Yes, you have! But either way… you just kissed the guy! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She insisted, waving her hand in front of her face and slowly draining on her juice to try and stop the stubborn intermittent coughs. “Oh no… it wasn't good, was it? Was it awkward? Did you smack teeth?” “Okay… um, so -- there’s something I’ve got to tell you." You start aprehensively. "I know I should’ve told you earlier but -- tonight wasn’t the first time." Ameena's jaw drops some with surprise, and if you weren't so nervous, perhaps you would've laughed at the way her lips started pumping at nothing, seeking for the straw that wasn't there. "We’ve actually been seeing each other… occasionally,” You made sure to remark. “… for a month and some…” “Define seeing each other," She eggs on, shaking away her bewilderment. "like… how far have you…” “Pretty far…” You purse your lips, nodding your head as you reminisce. “Like, almost all the way far…” “Shut the fuck up. No, you haven’t. Have you? Oh my god, have you seen his dick?” You opted not to answer her, but your face did it for you. -- or so you realized once she took a big gasp and looked at you like you had just confessed to have hosted a spa day without her. “You’re a whore for not telling
me.” She tells you, no pinch of grace to her stance besides the choke that escapes her once she notices the sudden starkness of your face. “Well maybe... but it’s not like you did better, is it?” You yammer back at her, and immediately she shifts a little in place. If you had not just came out of such a noisy party, you would bet you would be able to hear her heart jump in her chest. “You really thought you were the only one finding out my secrets ahead of time, didn't you?” “What is that supposed to mean?” She challenges. “It means" You start, unable to stop yourself from smiling a little at your own wittiness. "I found something the other day that made your crush on that Scottish guy from Outlander start making a whole lot more sense. -- That being that you have a thing for redheaded beefy guys with beards and pretty blue eyes.” “How did you find out?” Ameena gasps, although she doesn't seem taken aback, she's more surprised than anything else. "Find out what?" Y/N's totally acting like a smarty pants now. "That you have a thing for redheaded beefy guys or that you're dating Vincent?" "The last one." She grumbles. “Oh, that would be cause I saw you together at school the other day.” You reveal, unable to stop a little proud grin from showing up into your face when you see her purse her lips, musing over her past secret school encounters with Vincent, trying to figure out when and where you could've seen them. “And, although it's a very unexpected pairing, I actually think you look really cute together…” “Really? You think so?” “Yeah, and well -- I can't really say I know Vincent, since I only talked to him once or twice, but he seems really chill and sweet." You allege honestly, retrospecting over that time he went out of his way to help you, a practical stranger, that time you had your major freak out episode at Madison's birthday party. "and it’s not even like ‘oh they make a nice pair because they’re both cute’, it was the way you guys were acting around each other, it was so precious... I don’t know how to explain it better, but it felt like a good match.” “Ow… it makes me so happy that you thought that! You have no idea... And same! About you and Harry.” You rolled your eyes at her, figuring that she was only returning the compliment to make you happy. - “No, I’m serious… You know I’ve always shipped you lot together, even though I figured Harry to be a bit of an ass... Vincent always says he’s a great guy though, he just happens to look a bit intimidating ‘cause he frowns a lot...” “Yeah…” Y/N smiles to herself, thinking back to when that same thought had occurred to her right as she’d talked to him for the first time. “He’s actually sort of a mush-ball beneath the surface, believe it or not.” “Really? Does that mean he’s sweet and not like, you know… dominant in bed?” “Ameena…” “Come on… He’s freaky, isn’t he?” She's wallowing in it now, basking on the way Y/N's growing all hot and bothered over her naughty prying. “Does he make you call him ‘Sir’ while you’re at it?” “No, he doesn’t and if he did I still wouldn’t tell you.” “Come on… You can’t not tell me. It’s Harry we’re talking about." You brush her off with a shake of your head, placing your finished bowl of cereal over your nightstand and getting up from the bed in order to go use the bathroom. "It’s practically community dick with how much it’s constantly in everyone’s mouths. -- Metaphorically speaking, of course.” She only adds the last part when Y/N tosses her shoulder with a displeased 'heyyy'. You know what she means though. Ever since first week Harry and his prick have remained a constant topic of discussion during the freshmen's rehearsal breaks, which is partly why Y/N skips them as much as she can. -- Not only because it enfuriates her beyond belief to hear others spitting out hunches about what shape and size he must be, but also because she's sure one day she'll lose it and jump at someone's throat amidst them sharing a dirty fantasy where Harry has them up against a cherry tree or some shit.
“What do you want me to say? He’s… nice, -- great even! I’m obviously not going to go into details about his dick, but - I think we get along pretty well when it comes to… sexy stuff.” Y/N’s already cringing at herself for using that term, but Ameena only seems mildly happy with the answer she’s got, so she forces herself to continue. “He likes to take care of me… always makes sure I’m comfortable with what we’re doing… he’s sweet… and hot… and..." Y/N's phone dings, and she reaches out to check it. "and I’m fucked.” She cuncurrs as she reads the texts popping up in her phone. [Harry: How do I get this purple lipstick off my face?] [Harry: Also, why are you not in my bed?] "Was that him?" Ameena pokes, noticing you smiling silly at your phone. "Yeah..." You sigh all pampery. "Is it stupid that miss him already?" “No... it's not stupid... I'm like that with Vincent all the time as well." She chuckles, shaking her head amusedly. "So... you really like Harry, huh?" "Yeah." You smile, nodding affirmatively. "He makes me feel happy."
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Y/N was not happy with Harry. And she had a good reason for it. Harry had decided to do a little number on her... by sending her a text on friday night telling her that 'he was checking the other day and she still had a couple of burpees to do before they could bring her punishment to a close'. Which had already kicked off a bit of a bellyache on her. Because well, she had kind of assumed that they had mutually agreed on letting those slide, since he never brought the punishing up again, even after they were done with the chaotic school assignment weeks. And no, the fact that she was going to have to waste part of her saturday sweating a couple of hundreds of burpees off her body, instead of feasting on a fancy italian latte and a cinanamon bun with her best friend like she usually did, although being a sucky situation, still wasn't the reason why she was upset. No. -- She was upset, because the little shit had lied to her. So when she showed up at their usual parking lot on Saturday morning as scheduled, fresh out of bed, cold, sleepy eyed and looking like a right mess, in her yoga pants, sports shoes, a sweater that didn't even really match her outfit that well and her backpack stuffed with her favorite reusable water bottle and half a box of granola bars, she was expecting to find Harry in a similar sporty, casual outfit, like the ones he usually wore the times he penciled her punishment appointments last minute on weekend days. Except this time, that wasn't the case. He showed up looking like a right dream. He was bearing down against his car, dressed in black jeans and ankle boots (ever so typical of him), a cornflower blue sweater that fit him like a glove and brought out the color of his eyes, and a padded bomber jacket that made him look all cushy and warm and somehow made you want to go and hug him ever more. Even his hair looked particularly nicer, for god's sake. His uncombed layers had been slicked back with some sort of wax, but his fluffy waves remained as dainty and unruly as ever, bouncing beautifully every time the morning breeze blew over them. "Good mornin' sunshine." He'd greeted merrily as soon as he spotted you walking over, looking crabby, snoozy and like you'd much rather still be out of his, and the rest of the world's sight. "Mornin'." You reply briefly, feeling your limbs ivoluntarily twist in a big stretch. "What's with all the primping today?" You nod towards his outfit playfully, ready to start some casual banter. "Are you going on a date after this or something?" "I am." The teasing smile drops of your face instantly, being replaced by an expression of sudden alarm, with bulging eyes and a lowered jaw but then he grins at you. "We are, actually." "What?" Your mind is confused ... and so is your body, because now there's sparkly butterflies growing from places you'd just felt were ripped to pieces by feral, ruthless fangs. "Sweet baby," Harry's grinning at you from ear to ear. "You should've seen your face..." His teasing, although sweet, is not helping the angry blood still sizzling inside your veins ever the slighest. "Did you get jealous thinking that I was going out with some pretty girl that wasn't you?" "Why would I get jealous?" You huff, putting your backpack down on the sidewalk and sitting next to it. "Also, what do you mean we're having a date? I'm noway ready to go anywhere dressed like this." "Rubbish..." Harry starts, sitting on the sidewalk next to you. "It was supposed to be a surprise, so I obviously wasn't expecting you to show up all dolled up, you know?" "Then what the hell were you thinking?" "I don't know." He huffs, smiling a little at the same time. "I just wanted to see you... and hopefully spend a nice day together." Your heart feels warm. Warm and happy inside your chest besides the angry pout displayed on your face. "Which was maybe a shit idea if you're about to turn me down." Harry's looking at you like a sad puppy and you hate it. Hate that his eyes are making you feel like a terrible owner about to push their pet out the door
while it's raining and there's thurderstorm approaching in the sky. "I'm not turning you down..." You start, immediately watching his face warm. What is only making you feel worse as you carry on with your stance. "I'm turning your date invitation down. Today, specifically." "Why?" He pouts a little at the news. "Harry, look at me!" You chuckle warmheartedly, uprising and flashing your oversized, sports sweater at him. "I look hideous! There's no way I'm going anywhere with you all spruce and looking like a dreamboat while I have cheap yoga pants on." His head drops a little, so you bring your finger to his chin and push it up. "I'll be more than happy to go out a date with you anytime, as long as you give me a couple hours notice just so that I can get ready." "But I like your yoga pants..." Harry insists, tilting his head and giving your outfit a quick once-over. "They make your butt look rather peachy." He heckles, making you gasp and smack over his bulky shoulder, pretending to be more offended than you were. "Can never win with you, can I?" He puffs, getting up from the sidewalk. “Either way," He picks and bunts your heavy backpack over his back before he starts walking towards his car. You're staring at him confusedly as you watch him open the trunk and throw your bag in there. "Date or no date we'll still have to drive past Ikea." Your eyebrows irk. "I saw online that they have lava lamps like your roommate's one that we broke. -- You know her better than I do, so you should be able to figure out which one she'll like most.” You don't want to go to Ikea. You want to drag Harry with you back to the dorms and force him to watch Knives Out with you. Preferably under a blanket, whilst sharing a box of buttered microwave popcorn, all cozy and snug so that maybe he will let you hold his hand during the suspense parts. But now Harry wants to go to Ikea... -- and you're in noway ready to give up his company yet. "Okay fine..." You shrug defeatedly, "I guess my yoga pants might be good enough for shopping at 9am on a Saturday..." With no more 'ifs' or 'buts' you walk towards the car, where Harry's awaiting you with a happy grin as he opens the passenger's door for you. “Since there is no date," He tips as you're about to to slide into your seat. "can I charge you for the kiss now?” “No.” You nudge, facetiously as you step inside the car. "What?" He shakes his head confusedly and bends down, sticking his head inside the car after you. “Not even a little one?” You laugh a bit, leaning over and giving a lusty smooch over his cheek because he looks right cute and you can't say no to him, especially when he's pouting at you like he is now. He gives you one back, before retracting and pushing your door closed. Just as swiftly, he climbs into the drivers seat, flicks his seatbelt on, adjusts the mirrors and starts the car. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't have nothing proper planned for today... not like a fancy restaurant or anything like that..." He pats your knee, giving it a light squeeze before drawing his hand back to the stirring wheel. "With that said, you're sitting in my car now... so I guess I get to do you with you as I please... and that includes taking you with me anywhere i feel like going." "Huh?" You question, tilting your body towards him the best you can with the seatbelt on. "You heard it right." Despite the spiritedness in his smile, you can tell by the solemn look in his face as he spares you a quick glance in your direction that he's being serious. "I think you look lovely in that sportswear, just the same as when you wear a pretty dress. -- and since I'm the one taking you out today, I think you should consider my opinion, even if its just this once." You groan, crossing your arms and legs and pushing yourself further into the seat. You're a bit worked-up at Harry's approach, but you also can't help feeling flattered that somehow he still finds you pretty when your eyes look puffy and the state of your hair makes it seem like you've just stuck a finger in a light socket.
Harry's still staring at you. You can feel it more than you can see it through the rear view mirror by taking casual glimpses at it. You find yourself flashing a mischievious smile at him through the reflection. The one you always put on before you're leaning down towards the car radio and switching his favorite music station for the one that you like most. Your goal of finding the perfect song is quickly forgotten though, as you swap your attention back to Harry, in order to scold him for disregarding the speed limits within the university fields. All he does is laugh and shake his head at your concern as he takes his foot to the brake and shifts to a lower gear. “Do you drive?” He asks. You move around in your seat a little, inquisitive as to why the question. “No, not yet… Why?” “Noticed your staring," He says matter-of-factly, taking his hand to the dash to finish what you didn't get to do. "So I thought you were silently judging my gear technique.” He keeps flipping through the stations until you're asking him to stop because you like the song that's currently playing. “No… I was just looking, no judgement.” You keep to yourself that the reason behind your immersion was the size and attractiveness of his hands and not so much the change lever. “Looks complicated.” He spares you another glance, smiling amusedly. “Wanna try it?” “Um…" You hiss, fixing your eyes on the gizmo in front of you, while evaluating the proposition. "I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” “Don’t worry, I won’t let you crash us;” Harry promises, showing off a full and cheerful smile while extending his hand towards you. “c’mon, give me your hand.” “Where do I…” You buzz with a circular motion of your hand. “Here,” He said, softly patting the gear handle. - “Just place it here.” You did what he asked you to, although a little apprehensively. Once your hand was laying there, he moved his palm to rest on the back of your hand, curling his fingers together with yours so that he could still have a firm grip over the handle. “Relax…” He prompted, noticing your stressed-out face. “You don’t have to do anything, just follow my lead…” He said, only proving that he genuinely could not tell that the reason behind your sweaty palms was more so his delicate touching, than the bloody tool you were holding. You came across a yellow traffic light, one he could easily speed through, but he chose to slow down and let it shift to red. Once the car stopped, he gently pulled both your hands to neutral, then left and up again to 1. “See, it’s easy.” He smiled, shifting his gaze to you briefly before setting his eyes back on the light. His thumb carried on petting the soft side of your pinky as he waited for it to move back to green. “Should I take it out now?” You asked. Not that you wanted to pull your hand away, but you were mildly worrying that it was getting in the way of his driving. He smiled at you. “You can let it stay if you want to… -- For practice.”
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Ikea's setups are nice, but not really up Y/N’s alley if she’s honest. When it comes to house decorations, Y/N's more into those effervescent colors and shapes most people believe should remain inside museums. She likes bubblegum pink feature walls, opulent spaces with too many artworks, rooms divided by archways, mustard yellow couches, ceramic cactus décor, circular mirrors and that 21st century witch aesthetic that is in no way comparable to Ikea’s minimalistic lines. Their brand new furniture line is exhibited by the front of the store, set inside small custom-built rooms made of thin white walls. They all share the same theme. Practical, but modern. In all warm, earthy tones, with eco-focused furniture pieces and rust, green and blue colored sofas that you and Harry are swerving through as you probe around the store, looking for the lava lamp section. You end up getting a little lost there, as everyone always does at Ikea stores, but fortunately, Y/N’s in good company today. So anytime she gets disinterested in looking at furniture, she can and will peek at Harry instead. Well, it’s more the other way around really. Because unlike it happens with boho carpets and ceiling lights, she never gets tired of looking at Harry. She's certain she could watch him shuffle through trendy shower curtains throughout the whole day without getting bored. Harry’s entertaining to look at. Especially when he spots a home gadget he isn’t familiar with and his eyebrows curve with curiosity as he balances forward over his foot to get a better look… and when he scrunches up his nose at design choices he finds questionable. He isn’t an appreciator of peel-and-stick wallpapers, Y/N’s guessing... She also believes he doesn’t like bedrooms with matching furniture sets and laminate kitchen cabinets trying too hard to pass as real wood. Yes, Y/N’s thinking about it. How could she not? She’s trying not to entertain the thought, but it’s hard when they have been mistaken for a newlywed couple looking to furnish their brand new house for at least 4 different employees already. So her brain is wondering… imagining how waking up besides Harry every morning and coming home to him at the end of a tiring workday would be like. She sees them curling up on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, the balcony windows are open because the weather’s sunny like today... It’s a bit windy too, so the curtains are flowing in and out... there's a cheesy movie playing on the telly that she's seen way too many times, but never seems to remember the ending of. There are two teacups set on the coffee table, but Y/N hasn't finished hers yet because she's too busy playing with Harry's hair, braiding it out of boredom. And whilst he keeps complaining that she is pulling too hard, he makes no effort to push her away. She’s guessing they would still bicker over other silly things, though. Like who's turn it is to load the dishwasher or why there's a paper container thrown in the yellow recycling bin. She can see it vividly in her head now... them both disheveled in their pajamas crossing swords in the kitchen. It gets ugly, and bad and dirty… But then, in the middle of their argument Harry cracks a toothy smile at her, because she’s stuttered a word or used a poor choice of an insult on him; It's one of those smiles of his that never fail to knock her socks off and make her insides twist... She feels her all madness crumble apart then… and laughing along with him she'll ask: "We're being idiots again, aren't we?" Y/N blames having these soppy thoughts on Harry entirely. On the way his hand keeps searching for her lower back to call her attention anytime he feels like asking what color she likes most out of an item with multiple color options. This time it was a room divider. Y/N said she liked the bamboo one better. Behind the divider there was another room setup. With a white wooden his and hers wardrobe, with multiple doors and sections. Neither Harry nor Y/N could resist opening a couple of doors to have a peek inside, falling
a little disappointed to find nothing inside besides empty drawers and woven baskets. Next to the wardrobe was a sitting area, with a nice beige chair, a hanging rack filled with magazines and cute potted houseplant hangers stuck to the walls… But the star in the room, at least to Y/N, was the small, vintage looking gold side table stuck to the wall. With its thin wavy feet and a storage spot underneath it. “Oh my god!” You fuss, moving around the room like a floating body just so that you can reach it.
Evoking the fictional divisions of your dream house, you decided this would be a perfect purchase for the living room… to place right next to the purple velvet couch you also wanted… so that you could slot your favorite scented candle pot over it, and magazines with cool covers, and a magical looking amethyst lamp… -- A fake one, because Y/N knows even her idealized self won’t have money for real crystals any time soon… Either way, she’s obsessed with it. “Harry, look! Isn’t it super cool?” You mewl, turning your head to the side, hoping to get Harry’s validation. “I know it’s very Parisian chic, but on the other end… it’s like it could perfectly belong in Steven Tyler’s beach house or something.” He shakes his head amusedly, staring down at you as you kneel next to the table, over the silky caramel brown rug. “I’ll confess I have no idea what ‘Parisian chic’ looks like, but it looks about perfect for coke snorting, so I’m guessing you’re right about the last part…” Harry’s hands were behind his back as he carried on inspecting the space. Picking up a couple of decoration items from the shelves to see them up close from time to time. You notice him reaching for one of the books; a bright yellow one with ‘On Modernism’ written in large bold pink letters on the cover. “It’s a pretty damn cool table though…” He said as he flipped through the pages. ‘What a dummy…’ you thought, noticing his eyebrows pinch together displeasingly as he finally comes to realize that it was only a decoration prop. “How much is it?” He questioned, closing and jamming the book back in place. “It’s…” You checked the price tag, solely out of curiosity because no matter how much you loved that table, there was no possible justification to invest in such a fancy piece of furniture at this erratic stage of your life. “Suddenly not so cute...” You flip the tag in his direction. “350 pounds for that tiny table?" Harry's eyes widen. "That’s about the same price as this bedframe...” He flops his ass over the meticulously made double bed without any hesitation. “Which is far more worthy, if I say so myself…” He says, letting his body fall back against the oversized olive green coverlet and clasping his hands over his stomach. “Harry…” You chuckle meekly, getting back on your feet and walking around the bed when you see him press his eyes shut like he was about ready for a nap. “Lift up from there before someone sees you and we get kicked out.” Your foot never ceases kicking at his ankles until you spot his eyes reopening. “How about you stop worrying so much and just come here and cuddle me?” He soughed sleepily as he stretched his arms above his head, making his shirt ride up enough to give you a quick glimpse of the trail of hair thriving down, towards his crotch. It was enough to bring a warmth to your cheeks and prompt you to shift your gaze away. “Sides, if anyone asks, we can always say our budget’s too tight to invest on a bed without trying it out first. --they'll eat that up, don’t you think... wifey?” You avoided the question by focusing your attention somewhere else, rummaging through a stack of plush bed comforters like you actually meant to buy one. “All I know is that you’re going to fall asleep and I’m going to leave you there.” You admonished once you finally felt gutsy enough to spare the boy another look. Only to realize that his eyes, however dozy, had remained fixed on you. “I won’t fall asleep, just gimme two minutes...” He gave a blissful sigh, spreading his arms wide over the bedding. “Besides, I know you won’t leave. You’re stuck with me for the day, remember? Unless you’d rather go back to the parking lot to do your burpees...” “For the day?” You questioned concernedly. “Are you actually planning to take me somewhere else?”
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Going to the beach during the cold months is always nice. Ever since she remembers, Y/N has always enjoyed it. She likes the way the air is misty and smells saltier than it does in the summer. With every breath she inhales, it feels like nature is cleaning her whole body through her lungs. Her lips taste salty and gritty from the sand particles flying around her face, and the coolness of the wind is making her legs feel numb, which isn’t great for running when an unforeseeable wave disperses further than you were expecting, but still... it feels great. The weather was bright that day. The sunrays broke through the clouds and made the salty water glisten silver. There are a couple of gulls mewing in the sky above your head, besides them, there’s no one here. Just you and Harry, strolling down the sand as the ocean waves rapture fiercely against the shore. You had been collecting seashells and hiding them in your pocket throughout your walk, just so you could throw them at Harry when you caught him distracted. He’s given you two warnings so far. “I’m not kidding Y/N.” He'd menaced, “One more and I'm taking you for a bath.” “I’m not scared of you.” Y/N had replied with a snicker as she scampered more towards the dunes to make sure he couldn’t get back at her. She does this mostly because she’s a natural pesterer, and also because she likes to rile Harry up by startling him when he thinks she’s done and that there are no more scraps left in her pocket. Except there always are. “Oops.” You smirk devilishly. “Guess there was one more after all.” You laugh when he winces back at you, and that’s when his patience finally snaps and he starts sprinting. You let out a squeak and start running, but it’s pointless. Harry’s legs are longer and faster, and his body is more resilient to the way his feet cave into the icy sand as he trails after you. Your only hope now is that he won’t be able to pick you up… but he is. He grabs you from the back and wraps his arms around your middle. “No, no, no!” You’re blubbering the word repeatedly, kicking to try skirmishing away from his hold… but it’s not working; he’s still dragging you towards the sea. “No, Harry, please... it’s too cold… please don’t.” “Oh it’s cold, is it? Should’ve though of that earlier.” You’re pushing up your legs, trying to climb up Harry’s body as his feet finally reach the shoreline. “Last chance, -- say sorry.” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry." You’re whimpering at that point, grabbing zealously onto Harry’s forearms that encase your waist just in case he decides to drop you. "I’ll do anything, just not the water... please.” "Anything I want?" "Yes! Anything you want. -- just please, put me down." At that, Harry eases you back down over safe and dry land. Even helping you swab your pants clean on the places the sand had stuck from the little tussle you'd put up as he carried you. “So..." You cut the silence whilst he's still wiping over your calf. It’s not a question yet, but your phrasing is already speculative in a way. "Have you decided whats for me to do yet?” “Hmm…” He takes a moment to ponder, “There's something..." He grants as he resumes his walking by the sea. You follow beside him, just as nervous as you are curious to find out what the words coming out of his mouth next are going to be. "I just don’t know if it counts.” “Well, it was me who said anything, so…” Your shoulders jerk winsomely. “shoot your shot.” Y/N watches as Harry’s lips part, figuring he’s about to request something, but his mouth remains quiet, apart from the tongue that pokes out some to spruce his lips, that had gone a bit dry from the cold. Before you know it he's reaching out for your hand and bringing you to an halt. "What was that for?" You ask, but no further words follow your question. It's just Harry's index that comes to cradle your face, dragging a slow shape over your cheek as he stares deep into your eyes, then your lips, then your eyes again. The tips of your noses press together instinctively, halting for a moment
before Harry finally dares to pump the question. “I want for you to kiss me, is that alright?” Oh. “Yes," You say a bit weakly. "yes, I want to kiss you.” Untamed locks of hair feel feathery against your skin when the sea breeze envelops your bodies for the millionth time that day, only this time when you breath in, Harry’s scent overpowers the unmistakable saltwater one. It’s evocative and musky, yet subtly sweet like vanilla… and your mouth is hoggish for a taste. “Then you better start being nice to me.” Harry larks, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before he takes off running, leaving you standing perplexed facing the sea. He laughs when he looks back at you, noticing the slight outraged pout on your lips. “Come on, don’t give me that face." He takes his hand to his chest dramatically. "It’s breaking my heart.” “You’re evil.” You establish, advancing afoot alongside the coast and walking past Harry without sparing him any more of your attention. You’re not really upset since you know he’s just teasing as revenge, but being deprived of something you want after it being just a breath away always sucks… And the feeling’s even worse when it’s Harry’s kisses, apparently. “And you’re not?” He jogs until he is walking by your side again. “I've taken you out, offered you lunch, brought you to the beach... and yet, all you've done for me since we've gotten here is throw things and kick sand at my feet.” He contends, “You also didn’t kiss me earlier when I asked, so it’s only fair you don’t get to do it now.” "You kidnapped me." Y/N’s mouth opens vexedly. "And for the record, I didn't even want to kiss you that much... was only going to do it because you asked." She mumbles something of sorts, although in reality she’s an absolute sucker for Harry's kisses. To the point of getting annoyed at herself for not being able to control the itch she gets anytime she stares at his mouth. And she’s been staring a lot today… Anytime she does, the memories of their gone by encounters flood her brain and leave her body sizzling with yearn to feel the dampish warmth of his tongue again. She wants Harry's attention. Wants him to kiss her, hold her hand or show any type of affection that will make the annoying heart jitters go away. -- That is also why she's been nagging him with seashells and silly provocations throughout the whole day... She just wants him to do something! anything! Before she can get any more desperate though, she’s saved by the bell. -- Well, not an actual bell but Harry’s phone starts ringing in his pocket. He stares at the screen for a while, as if debating if he should take the call or not, but ultimately ends up swiping towards green and taking the device to his ear. You make yourself fall behind purposefully as he does, not wanting to seem like a busybody nor to accidentally listen to something he might rather you didn't. He’s walking in circles, punting at the sand as he talks with his eyes set on the horizon. Sometimes he'll take a peek at you as well, which for some reason is giving you a bad feeling... Not bad as if something terrible has happened, but judging by his body lenguage, he seems a bit more downcast than he did minutes ago before he took the call. And as much as Y / N doesn't want to pry, she can't stop herself from asking if something's wrong when he comes to meet her again, with both his hands hiding in his pockets and his face a bit scrunched because the wind is blowing directly in it. “No, it’s just…” He wipes the tip of his nose. “my mom’s printer broke.” He says, taking a big throaty breath before speaking again. “And now she needs me to come over and see if I can fix it...” “Oh.” Caught off guard, that’s all you muster to say. You're hoping your face doesn’t let on the fact that you're feeling fairly saddened at the news that your walk had come to a precipitant end. But luckily, Harry cuts your worries short. “You could come with me if you wanted to.” He suggests without apprehension. “I live
close by anyway, so it would only be a tick.” Y/N’s brows dip with confusion. “How close is close by?” “Roughly a 30 minute drive, I think.” His right hand shoots up, combing through his knotty hair once before being shoved back inside the sweater. “I have a heavy foot so let’s make that 25.” “Wait,” You shake your head some with bewilderment. “So you live… here?” “Hum... not here-here, but in the surrounding area, yeah.” “I don’t get it.” It’s true, you really don’t. “Why don’t you just go home every day then?” “I tried that last year, actually… but honestly, it was shit.” Harry sighs idly at the memory. “Any time I went out with my friends or to a party I ended up having to crash on some poor student’s couch because I was too fucked or too tired to drive." He pauses, taking a big breath in. "So, I figured this year it would be better to get myself a room here. That way I can go home when I want to… and even if I don’t go, I still have my own bed to sleep on. And I’m sure my parents don’t mind not listening to me practice for hours every day, -- the neighbors too.” Y/N is listening attentively; eating up every word he’s saying since he doesn’t usually tend to share much of his trials and tribulations with her. “Either way,” He simpers charmingly. “Do you want me to drive you back or are you going to come along?”
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From the moment you'd accepted Harry's invitation to accompany him on his little familiar duty, you'd been feeling a mellow squeeze in your belly. It was a curious and eager squeeze... like the one you get when your crush sends you a unexpected text or your favorite celebrity shows up on the tv show your parents are watching...
Okay, okay... perhaps there was also some, not so pleasant, nervous gut squeezing into the mixture... that prompted you to spent the whole car trip chewing on your fingers and staring out the window wondering if you'd gotten there yet. But overall, you were excited! To finally get to know such a big part of Harry's world: The place he calls home, where he's grown to became the person he is today. The first one he always comes to when he has got good news to tell... or for comfort when things go really wrong... like that time he fell in the back street's playground when he was 9 and almost scraped his chin off on the floor's tar. And to think you'll even get to meet the person who got to wipe and cleanse that wound until it healed and become the scar on his face that you love to kiss over; And all your excitement only grows twice as big as you witness Harry unlock the front door of his family's apartment unit, where you were immediately greeted by the incoming, destinctable sound of echoey scratches against slippery oaky floorings. “There he comes…” Harry announced with little enthusiasm, right as a small structure dog comes sliding down the hallway with dark thrilled rounded eyes, flappy ears and silky waves of white and brown fur that Y/N can’t wait to play with, since its expression is nothing short of melting sweet. Until he spots you standing next to Harry, that is. Then it’s teeth out, followed by a slam-bang of menacing barks and growls. “Enough of that, little pest.” Harry shakes the jumpy dog away from the door with a soft pat of his feet. “Don’t be scared…” He avows once you grab onto his upper arm and push yourself a little behind. “That’s Pepper. He's harmless... just has a thing for growling at visitors until we close the door.” Without further ado, Harry steps inside. Compelling you to follow suit although still skeptically shielding behind him. As promised, as soon as the door is pushed shut, the dog’s protesting appeases and instead of barking, he’s springing around with his tail wagging. Panting with excitement as he takes turns between leaping and scratching at its owner’s legs and ferociously sniffing your sneakers. “See, he’s just silly.” Harry comments, bending down over his knees and coddling the pet’s whole body like he’s being demanded to do by the eager little creature, that is more than happy jumping over Harry’s thighs and smooching up his whole face with dribbly dog kisses. Where does Y/N sign up to get her dog rights? “What breed is he? He’s gorgeous.” You try petting over Pepper’s back experimentally while he is still relishing on Harry’s embrace. He doesn’t seem to mind the extra attention, so you end up crouching down as well. Y/N’s stroking the fur with a little more grit now, overflowed with joy when the dog decides she’s worthy of getting slobber on her chin as well. “He’s a mutt.” Harry says. “Back at the shelter where we got him, they said his mom was one of them Spaniel breeds… ‘s why he looks like that. Not that it would’ve mattered what he looked like, he’s the cutest pup in the world.” Y/N doesn’t know how or why she musters up the courage, but she finds herself smirking and mumbling something along the lines of “The cutest pup for the cutest owner, seems fitting.” She forces her eyes to stay trailed on the dog’s soft fur afterwards, yet she can feel Harry’s attention turning to her. You sense he’s a little baffled, as if not sure he’s heard you well, but before he can say something back, his attention is pulled to the apartment’s corridor, where there are now approaching human steps and an urgent call of his name. “Harry, darling… I’m so glad you’re here. That stupid shit printer- Oh!” The person covers her mouth with surprise. “You brought a friend!” “Hi mom.” He greets jovially before he moves to introduce the two strangers in the room. - “This is Y/N… Y/N, this is mom.” Harry’s mom was beautiful. Too beautiful for a mom, even... whatever that means. She had a great smile, radiant skin and a pair of astonishingly blue eyes Y/N’s finding hard
not to glare at. She’s definitely a cool mom too, Y/N guesses. At least judging by her red suede jacket, her choice of earrings for the day and the sparkly nail polish she has on. “Hello darling. How are you?” She comes to greet you with a kiss in each cheek. Her skin is little crimson and damp around the face and neck with what you assume to be nervous sweat, and her hair’s a bit blowsy, like she’s already ran her hands through it too many times. She smells beautiful though, like classic perfume and anti-aging moisturizing cream… just like most mom’s do. “I’m sorry if I seem a little startled… I’m in a bit of a rush but can I offer you anything? A coffee? Some tea?” “Oh no, I’m okay. Thank you.” You dismiss politely, not wanting to be a bother. “Are you sure?” The woman frets. “I’ve made fresh iced tea last night. The recipe’s one from the internet that I haven’t tried yet, so I
don’t know if it’s tasty… Maybe it is best I ask Harry to try it first. -- Harry…” She tilts her body to look at her son. You guess she’s about to ask him to go fix himself a cuppa, so you claim that you’re fine once more, and that it’s really not necessary but you have a feeling she’s still not dropping the subject. “Mom… didn’t you just say you were in a rush?” Harry hurries her back to the topic of your visit before she gets any more distracted with being a good host. “I’ll accommodate Y/N afterwards, let’s just get the printer fixed first...” “Right.” Anne nodded, hurrying on her way out the entrance hall. Harry followed her, inviting you to come along with a gentle touch of his hand. “It ran out of paper as usual. I tried to fill it, but it got stuck and I was too scared to pull on the sheets… so I started clicking buttons, hoping there was one that would make it… expel.” The woman explained, emphasizing that last word by pushing her hands out and extending her fingers repeatedly. You smiled a bit at the gesture, recognizing that Harry’s proneness to talk with his hands a lot probably came from his mom. - “I managed to get the papers sorted out, but now I can’t get it to print. I think I broke it, Harry… I think I broke it for good.” Harry’s lips form a sneery smile at his mom’s disclosure before he speaks.“Mom, as I’ve told you hundreds and hundreds of times before...” He sighs with facetious exasperation, placing both his hands on his mom’s shoulders and giving them a reassuring shake. “You don’t just break electronics by pressing buttons. You’ve probably misconfigured it or something.” “Does that mean you can fix it?” “It means I can try.”
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Harry ends up fixing the printer rather quickly. Because it turned out that the issue was one he had already fixed a couple of times before. You'd heard him explain it to his mom briefly... that there was some sort of communication glitch between the printer and the computer, after the paper jam occured, or something about a pre-programmed response from the computer to protect printer... Y/N wasn't listening that well... But either way, all he had to do to fix it was restart the printer and the computer; -- whilst his mom looked at him in awe, before she was peppering him with kisses and praises like she truly believed her son to be the next Steve Jobs on the rise. He also made sure to double-check the tray. Which was a smart move because it turns out his mom had over-filled it. What would ultimately result in another paper-jam, had he not sectioned and squared off the stack of sheets properly before putting them back. He'd only knitted his brows and glared a at his mom a little over the acident. "Really, mom?" He'd baited jokingly. "What?" She'd replied abashedly. "You know I don't do well with technology." Harry had only shaken his head before he took it upon himself to print the document for her. You figured he'd decided to save her the embarassement and spare the witty comebacks for later, when you weren't there to hear them. Which was sweet of him, Y/N thought. But not nearly as sweet as when he'd covertly squeezed Y/N's hand under the home office's desk after he was done and asked if she wanted for him to go fix her anything. She'd obviously dismissed him just like she'd done to his mom earlier, but Harry ended up dragging her into the kitchen anyway. Claiming that, since Anne worked as a Food Lawyer, it was best for them to leave her to sort out her papers by herself because there might be some super confidential information in them regarding some Golden Hills well-known restaurants. -- And if Y/N happened to get her eyes upon it, would leave them no other choice but to polish her off the face of the earth. Their kitchen was enviably cute. Long and narrow, decorated with glass mosaic in a selection of beachy and green tones that fit in with the slate blue cabinets just right. The countertops were built in a rosy shade of wood, and so were the table and the kitchen chairs, although the seats are covered with mossy green cushions. It brought out the green in the tiles and the kitchen rug, along with the natural freshness of the aromatic herbs displayed in cute little vases throughout the windowsill. “I like your kitchen garden.” Y/N had told Harry when she spotted it, even though she knew he was probably not the house resident she should be complimenting for it. It still didn’t stop him from flaunting about the only thing he could take credit for, labelling the vases with the plant names because he could never tell parsley from coriander and it ‘kept getting in the way of his cooking.’ They get into a bit of banter after that. With Y/N claiming she really doesn’t believe a simple herb mix up could be to blame for his culinary travesties. Harry defends himself with the promise that he’ll cook her his specialty, creamy cherry tomato pasta, sometime soon. “It will blow your mind, babe.” He bid. “You’ll be having wet dreams about it for ages.” Y/N rolls her eyes and claims she’ll pass on the chance of getting food poisoned but in reality, she knows she’ll nag him about that pasta until he makes it happen, that’s for sure. She's rather enjoying Harry's home. It's comfortable and warm, with sophisticated little touches. Like the leather puff seats in living room she desperately wants to lob her ass on, the vintage bulb chandelier hung in the dining room that Harry insists he hates because he keeps smashing his head against it anytime he vaccums the carpet, the hallway ceiling with sensor lights... and the spiced orange smell that lingers through the whole house, coming from the entrance hall, where Anne currently is fishing her car keys out of her shoulder bag. “Don’t you
dare feed that overweight creature while I'm out.” She yells back ar her son, and for a moment Y/N’s panicky mind wonders if she could be referring to her. It makes her feel self-conscious about her rumbly stomach, because she was actually quite hungry and looking forward to being offered a snack… but maybe she’ll have to wait and starve until she gets home. “Hey!” Harry’s face turns into a soft pout. “She’s not overweight… just a little chunky.” Y/N’s looking down at herself. She's guessing she might have put on a bit of weight ever since she moved away from home, but it’s still a bit mean to call her chunky, she thinks. Harry peeks his head out of the kitchen, noticing his mom’s still standing by the front door. “Can I give her lettuce?” His face is mischievous as he turns to you for a moment. “That’s healthy right? Just a healthy little snack.” Y/N’s about to ask if she’s allowed olive oil with it, when she hears a squeaky noise coming from behind her. She turns, noticing there’s a 3 piece aquarium over the counter. Partly hidden by the microwave, hence the reason she's only noticing it now. Inside of it, lounging under a plastic palm tree was probably the biggest pet turtle Y/N’s ever seen. Big like you would need to use both your hands to hold her... and proper chubby too as well. “You’re going to spoil her rotten.” Harry’s mom concludes with a sigh, before she’s saying her folksy farewells. She tells Y/N that she’s welcomed to visit anytime she feels like it, and also that she should feel free to slap Harry’s hand if she sees him reach for the sun-dried shrimp treats for Matilda, the turtle. Harry grumbles that he wasn’t going to, but you have a feeling that’s exactly what he would’ve done if it wasn’t for his mom’s tip-off. Once the front door clinks shut you’re already standing by the tank, while Harry has moved to the fridge. You’re zestfully staring at the sizable pet, -- that had just become uneasy from the moment she spotted movement close to her blue plastic tank. -- as Harry looked through the vegetable’s drawer until he found what he was looking for. You silently appreciated how he was careful to rinse the lettuce before feeding it to his pet. He tore the leaf in two. Passing one half to you and keeping the other for himself. – “Don’t freak out if she tries to bite you. She’s a bad-tempered little creature. It won’t hurt. -- Feels just like a clothes peg… I would know. I’m her favorite chewing toy.” “How wonderful.” You chime comically, making Harry chuckle as he dips his hand inside Matilda’s tank and attempts to go for a paw pet, acting completely unphased once the turtle launched its head forward and hungrily nipped at the tip of his finger. You carried on talking and feeding Matilda lettuce anytime she came swimming towards you with her sharp little claws, splashing water and scratching the walls like she was trying to climb out. Sometimes you would tear apart small pieces and drop them in the water for her to fetch, other times you’d shove your hand inside so that she would come nibble directly on the crunchy parts of the leaf. As it couldn’t not be, the feeding session ended up turning into a bit of a friendly combat, with you and Harry chafing each other’s hand away to get Matilda’s attention back on your side, whenever she started munching on the others’ lettuce. Something that quickly escalated to playful side shoves and poking at each other’s ribs until you were nothing but a mess of giggles. At one point your gaze flickers to Harry’s face, who’s profile looks impossibly lovelier in this light, right as casually runs his tongue over his lips. Leaving behind a thin layer of saliva that makes them look puffy… and kissable… And fetching to the point that you only realize you've been staring for way too long when he asks you something. Your eyes dart away sheepishly as you fix your hair behind your ear. “What was that?” You ask without looking, which is something you only tend to do when you’re feeling particularly shy or embarrassed. Once you finally do
look, there is a pleased look on the boy’s face that’s making you wonder if he’s caught onto that already. “I was asking if you want to try mom’s iced tea.” “Oh no, I’m okay. Don’t bother.” With most of his frame already hidden behind the fridge door, Harry squints his eyes at you, askance of the overly-polite response you’d given him. - “I’ll have some if you do.” You reformulated, realizing he was waiting for you to cut the crap and give him a sincere answer. You watched as his gaze honed back inside of the fridge, making a quick scan through the shelves. “What should we have with it? What are you in the mood to eat?” He queried, picking up the glass pitcher from the fridge’s bottle holder and placing it over the counter. “Just whatever you feel like having.” You answered coyly, feeling your shoulders shrink slightly inward with senseless timidity. Harry snorted at your shyness, shaking his head as he reached for two matching tall glasses from the top cabinet and placed them next to the pitcher. - “Do you like mug cakes? I haven’t had one in a while and I’m sort of craving something warm and sweet.” “Yes, I would love a mug cake right now.” You simpered with maybe a little too much excitement. - “I mean… if that’s okay with you.” “Why wouldn’t it be okay if I’m the one suggesting it?” Harry mocked your choice of words, before he moved to set the table. You tried offering your help, but he declined it in favor of inviting you to sit down, once he noticed you were still leaning against the kitchen’s windowsill, right by Matilda’s tank. You comply without fuss, guessing you would probably end up being more of a nuisance anyway for not knowing where anything is. Despite knowing your chances of being in this kitchen again are slim, you’re making mental notes on the places of things. She likes being here, Y/N decides. And not just because the apartment is cozy and homey, Harry’s mom is nice, and she happens to really like the citrus smell of their fragrance sticks... No. It’s because she likes to be in this, more personal, space of Harry’s life. It’s a place she would never imagine she’d be, if she’s honest. After all, not many weeks ago, she really did believe Harry was nothing short of her nemesis, that had been put into her life solely for character-building purposes… And now she’s sitting in his kitchen, watching him pick up a pair of cute, illustrated mugs from the dish rack just so that they can make microwave cakes together. Life’s bloody wicked isn’t it? “What do you want in yours?” Harry asks, pulling your wondering mind back to the present. - “I like mine with peanut butter and chocolate chip, but you’ve got plenty other options. There’s vanilla… chocolate… cinnamon… apples… bananas… oranges…” “Peanut butter and chocolate chips sounds great, actually.” You could kiss him right now he looks bloody cute; peeking back at you with that sheepish naughty smile of someone who has got a sweet tooth and is hoping you are on the same wavelength as them to ask “Do you want whipped cream and sprinkles on top?” Y/N's fucked for him. She's absolutely, utterly fucked.
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There are two types of university students. There are the ones like Ameena. Who pack boxes and boxes of familiar goods from their homes to decorate their school rooms, transforming them in a mini, self-contained apartments because they find comfort in having stenciled stars on their walls, the teddy bear they’ve had around since they were a child perched on their bed, and that crumbling desk lamp they always depend on to get their homework in day. And then there’s ones like Y/N and Harry. Who keep around just the necessary and treat their school rooms as a mere sleeping space, frame working their safe haven on the things they can carry with them everywhere… Like their favorite pair of socks, a holey band t-shirt they only got because it called their name at a vintage store or a pack of sugar free gum of their favorite flavor… It still doesn’t mean Y/N doesn't need her home room to be a cool and comfy place, with feel-good comforters she can spread her whole body over, pictures of her closest friends, cheap fairy lights, home printed artworks and magazine collages... That to say that maybe that's the reason why she's not surprised to find Harry’s home room to be way cushier and more intimate than the frat house one... And a perfect reflection of his personality as well. With simple dark colors and features, a tall shelving unit around the headboard, that’s filled with ghosts of his childhood and earlier teen days. Lego constructions, a 7th grade zoo fieldtrip picture, school championship medals, an empty liquor bottle collection that Y/N can’t help making fun of by saying “Wow, aren’t you just the coolest guy ever...” “Oi, shut up.” He’d grumbled, sheepishly scraping at the edge of one the sneakers brand stickers stuck to the top of his desk while you walked around observing the soft rock band posters glue taped to the single room’s dark blue feature wall. There's a couple of other items that peek your interest: a skateboard Harry admits he’s never learned how to ride, a red electric guitar and its amplifier, a box set of the lord of the rings books, a not so recent stereo system and many, many records. “How do have so many records?” You ask amusedly. “They’re really cool. I never see these bands in stores anymore... and if I do it's always their 'best of' collections.” “That Eagles one you’re holding I bought, actually. -- but most of those were stolen from my dad.” Harry replies proudly from where he is sitting on his bed, scratching absentmindedly at his tights as he watches you flip through his stack of CDs. – “Some are a bit scratched, but I still listen to them anyway.” You hum insightfully. “And what are these blank ones?” You inquire, picking up one of the few with a clear case and shimmering it at him. “Did you steal dad’s porn films as well?” “God, no!” Harry chuckles aloud at your jesting. “Those,” He coughs out a laugh. “are compilations I make of songs I like. -- the track list’s on the back if you’re interested.” He bends his body forward and cracks his knuckles, flexing and unflexing them as he watches you nimbly spin the record case around to check. “Feel free to put any of them on if you’d like...” "This one seems nice." You decide following a brief analysis of a couple of compilation track lists. “I never would have taken you as a Bruce Springsteen fan, but…” You are already removing the CD from the case and setting it on the stereo player. Essentially taking stabs in the dark trying to figure out how to make the amp work without asking for Harry's help. “Oh god, -- Not that one.” He moans, burying his hands in his face and curling up forward like you’ve just told him you’re about to make him listen to Baby Shark on loop for 3 hours. “What? These are nice songs.” You frown offendedly as you plop down on the bed beside him. “Have you grown sick of them, is that it?” You ask as the melody of a Lou Reed song starts playing lowly from the old shelf speakers. "No, it’s not that…” The boy shakes his head with a nervous smile and crosses his legs over the
bedding.“‘s just…” He shifts a little, pressing the side of his body closer to yours. “out of all those damn records, you’ve picked my silly love songs playlist,” Harry sighs some before looking down at his own lap. He’s biting at his underlip, like there’s something playing at the tip of his tongue that he wants to say but isn’t sure if it’s wise to. “… it's the songs that make me think of you.” His shoulders slump like he’s relieved, and completely unaware of the way adrenaline is now buzzing through Y/N’s veins. “Harry…” The girl gasps from shock. “you can’t just say things like that." "Why?" He plain and simply asks. "Because you… this… it’s a bit…” You sough weakly. “You're making it worse. You saying those things is going to make all the other things... worse.” Harry seems hesitant in speaking for a moment, but he takes a big breath through his nose and forces himself to untie the knot that has formed in his throat. “What kinds of things?” Your eyes fly up to meet his briefly before returning to your cuticle, that you have been harshly pushing back as you contemplate your alternatives. You are plenty certain your body is physically shaking like a pressure cooker about to burst. -- With dangerous heatwaves crawling up your blood vessels, threatening to blaze your confused brain into a pile of ashes and making your mind feel dreamlike, like walking a fine line between reality and all your envisionments of what this conversation could have gone like. It's not as humiliating or perfect as you imagined it would be, but it's freeing in a way, if you look past the tightness in your stomach and the fact that you have absolutely no idea of ​​where you're getting with your words when you put forth something like "I like you, Harry." You say it as an apology, like your feelings are something worth feeling guilty about. "I like you more than just the things we do sometimes." There’s a pause. A long pause where Harry’s face remains nestled in the crook of his elbow, that’s perched over his knee. He looks placid, but mindful. Y/N doesn’t know what to make of it, so she just sits there feeling her chest inflate further and further with tremulousness. And when Harry talks again his voice comes out scratchy. “I like you too, Y/N.” You tilt your head slightly away from him, in a silly attempt to hide your face for when that inevitable “but” follows his stance. You wonder which one it’s going to be… “but this is just sex”; “but only as a friend” or the good ol’ classic “but I’m not looking for a relationship right now” -- only it never comes. Instead, he smiles at you. “I figured it was obvious…” “Really? You- you like me?” “Uh, yeah? of course I like you.” The smile on his face stretches wider, despite the way his eyebrows furrow tauntingly at the questioning. “What? you thought I showed everyone my fat turtle and my lego collection? This is priceless shit.” You're staring at him not knowing what to say, with a heart that’s beating heavy and full in the best way. -- like it’s about to burst inside your chest into a million little fireflies. With the way his expectant eyes are lingering on your face, you’re guessing he’s out of words too. Good thing your brain is done with thinking... and sick and tired of wasting time trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. Recklessly, you lean over, reaching for the collar of Harry’s sweater and tugging him to clash against your mouth. He hums some at the deed, sliding his arms around your waist and bringing you to his chest as your lips smooth unanimously. Although a bit chapped from the beach air, they stick together easily just like they always do. Harry’s cradling your face, while you are still very much twisting harshly at the fabric of his collar beyond your knowledge until one of his hands flies to nab at his throat. “Christ love,” He coughs a laugh, “I’m not usually one to turn down a bit of intense choking, but I’m about to pass out if you don’t give me a second to breathe.” “Sorry," You draw back a little shamefaced. "guess I
didn't realize I was murdering you.” Despite the full-blooded cheeks, Harry's eyes are lit and sparkling with desire as he holds on to your hip and adjusts himself. "It's alright... Guess I always knew you would try to rip me to pieces one day. -- Now come here, on my lap." He pats his thigh for you to come sit in it, and in a heartbeat, you’re slinging your leg over and plopping your bum in his lap, facing him. “Maybe I could kiss it better. -- would that be good?” He spurts out a perky hum so you tilt your head down, like you’re about to tell him a secret, only instead you comb the pecan colored locks away from the side of his neck and push your mouth against the skin that’s as remarkably warm and soft as you remembered. Some spots are still branded plum from a couple of days ago, so you make sure to be gentle with it… placing little sucks and kisses over the fragrant skin until his lips part in delight. “Would it be okay if I took your shirt off?” You ask a bit reluctantly. With a soft nod, Harry’s hands dive under the hem of his sweater, smiling boyishly as he pulls it up and over his head along with the t-shirt, he was also wearing underneath. He throws the conjunct of shirts to the side, carelessly. “Can I get yours as well?” His request comes soon, preventing you from taking in his body and the tattoos adorning it like you wanted to. Your chest stretches wide as you work on pulling your own tops off. Harry helps you, dragging them upwards by sliding his hands alongside your frame. Without thinking, your fingers jump back to unclip your bra, quickly sliding it off your shoulders and tossing it to the floor. Your eyebrows furrow questioningly once you notice Harry’s eyes are wide with surprise. “What? did you want me to leave it on or something?” But then it hits you. -- it’s his first time seeing your chest bare like this. The other times you’d been together the sex had always been rushed and needy, so much that you’d never seen each other properly naked. Sure, you’d seen each other’s parts and crammed your hands underneath each other’s shirts to cop a feel… But it was different this time. You aren’t half-drunk, drowsy or hurrying because someone might show up and spoil it. You're doing it because you like Harry. Because he makes you feel all these sorts of things you thought he could never. -- He cues you into feeling esteemed, and appreciated, and powerful... while simultaneously making you all tender and needy with his kisses and silly love songs. And you treasure him. So much that you wish your body was made of plasticine, just so it would bend and mold and stretch into a giant shield to protect him from anything that could ever hurt. Because that's how his arms always make you feel. Safe and cherished like you're inside of a formless cocoon that smells nice, feels nice, and looks at you with pretty green eyes. But as much as you were enjoying watching Harry’s cheeks flush as he drank your naked body in, it was making you feel slightly insecure about... well, everything? It prompts you to, not so covertly, wrap your hands around your breasts. “Why are you covering yourself?” Harry asks, adoringly reaching for your hands to tweak them away. He kept your fingers locked, as he took you in. Sighing happily with an awestruck smile as his gaze flickered between your breasts, seemingly completely blown away by what was being presented to him. “Because you’re staring.” You slump your shoulders slightly. “And I don’t want you seeing my flaws…” Harry’s face pinches. “What flaws? -- there are no flaws…” “Yes there are!” You fret, pulling your hands from his hold to try wrapping them around your body, but Harry grabs your wrists before you can. “And on top of that, I woke up bloated today… and it’s only gotten worse throughout the day…” Harry's hands leave yours, coming to cup your face instead as he looks deep into your eyes. -- It makes you dizzy. “You’re gorgeous." He says it like he means it. . “Literally
fuckin’ stunning Y/N. Please never hide your body from me. Because I love it... and my prick sure loves it as well…” He chuckled whilst looking down to his lap, where some swelling was already going under his undies although none you had fully stripped yet. - “And the thing is… that’s not even a relevant part in everything makes me crazy about you.” You huff, dropping your head over his shoulder. “Such a sweet talker when you’re trying to get your dick wet, aren’t you?” “Hey!” He blows, pouting a little. “Knock off painting me like dick while I’m having my moment of weakness and getting all sentimental... ‘s real mean.” His hand reaches for your forehead, just so that he can swipe away a loose strand of hair. “And it's not like I don't have a bit of a pouch going on myself, -- see?” He said, relaxing his abdominal muscles completely. You had a feeling he was forcefully pushing his belly out a bit just to ease your nerves, but you let it slide in order to poke playfully at it with your finger. - “Been having too much of that Irish beer I reckon… and chocolate stuffed croissants…” “No! none of that.” You coo, pushing forward and wrapping your arms around his cushy shoulders. - “It’s perfect, -- you’re perfect...” With your cheek pressed against Harry’s collar, you resume to pressing sticky kisses alongside his neck and cheeks. - “and I love chocolate stuffed croissants.” “Hmm… do you?” He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, basking on the the kisses you're giving him, and the feeling of having your bare, fleshy chest nuzzled against his. “Mm Mm..." You place a kiss on the tip of his nose, and he gives you one back. "and strawberry jam ones too, but… I know you’re only saying that to make me feel pretty.” “Because you are pretty." Harry insists. "The prettiest. -- I love your eyes," He smears his mouth on yours, pressing soft pecks on your face as he speaks. "and your nose, and your lips, and your neck..." He stops and stares, literally. "and these beauties.” You're not attempting to cover them this time, instead you let out a layed off sigh and stare down at yourself. “Do you like them?” “Do I like them?" His eyes dart up at your face for a moment and he smiles, with one of those 'I would eat you whole if I could' smiles. "I was trying not to be lewd but -- fuck, pet... they're perfect." He takes them in again, and although Y/N is not presumptuous, she's assuming by the way he's raving on the sight, that he wants to touch them. "You can play with them if you'd like." She says it because shes dying for' him to touch them too, but doesn't want to act all brash by randomnly pulling his hands to clasp against her boobs. You'd assumed he would go for a small squeeze at first... or hell, even a big squeeze with both his hands kneading at the flesh, but he doesn't. Instead he lunges forward, swiping his tongue over your nipples before he's sucking them off and on in his mouth. He's being proper filthy with it too -- with noisy and sloberry sucks until he feels them stiff against his tongue. "These perfect tits" Harry growls, clearing the dryness in his throat before speaking again. “Just wanna hold ‘em, and squeeze ‘em, and bite 'em...” He does it then; drags one of your nipples between his teeth and gives it a bite that has you spasming in pleasure and good pain. He suckles the soreness numb then, and blows cold air over it as he draws away. "That wasn't too much, was it?" You don't answer to his question, instead you push his torso down on the matress, leaning along with it so that you can taste his lips again. Your mouth starts venturing down his body, smooching his neck, his chest... And you take time to play with his nipples too. Which is something you've always enjoyed doing... yet unfortunantly guys never seemed to care for it, so you usually always ended up giving up in favor of putting your mouth around something you knew would leave them all whiny for you instead... But something tells you Harry does like it. So you push
your mouth on them, swirling your tongue around the flushed bumps and even sinking your teeth into them softly
just like he did to you. And fuck... he moans! They're low and soft moans but they're there. And they're still there while you're kissing down his tummy, and his hips, and following down his happy trail until your underlip's brushing against the rough fabric of his jeans. “Can I take these off of you?” Y/N asks as she begins to undo the button and zipper, Harry shakes his head affirmatively, so you grab tightly onto the bands and give them a testy tug down. He releases a breathy grunt at the push. “It’s alright, I got it.” The boy asserts as he takes the matter onto his own hands to make short work of the task. "Your boxers too." You command, once you notice he was planning to leave them on. Harry’s face inevitably heats when being asked such a blunt request, but he nods and pulls them down anyway.
His prick plops down into thin air, just as pretty and empowered as you'd last seen him. "You're too pretty." You flatter. You start by using your hand first, slipping your fingers around it and slowly pumping the skin up and down. He's big and wide and rosy at the tip, where it's glossy and leaky. Even his balls look great from this angle -- nice and full and immediately your mouth starts watering at the thought of emptying them... but you force yourself to swollow down your arousal as you lower your body on him, until you're nice and settled between his spreaded thighs. "Have you noticed," Harry's gruffy voice breaks your attention, who was still focused on how lovely looking and responsive his prick was. "how small your hand looks when it's on me?" "I have, actually." You chuckle at him, as you wrap your other hand around him, gliding both throughout his lenght simultaneously. It makes his chest quiver. "Does that turn you on?" "Mm Mm, yeah... a bit." "Don't need to be shy about it, baby." You tease, climbing a little closer up the sheets. "Do you also like the way it looks when it's in my mouth?" "I- uh... yeah." He clears his throat falteringly. "'s what I think about most when I, when I'm sorting myself out, actually." He rakes his hair back sloppily, with his eyes still trailed on what you're doing to him. "You look awful cute while you're doing it too, so... that helps." Y/N can't take this anymore. She can't take another second of having this gorgeous boy acting all cute and shy and whimpery while his cock pulsates and spurts into her hands without wrapping her lips around him. So she leans forward, coats the tip of his dick into her mouth and gives it a kind suck. Harry's mouth is hung open as he watches you, pretty moans bubbling in his and your chest as well once you start scouring your tongue and slurping around the whole expand of his skin until he's dripping from arousal. Harry's hand jumps to your hair, desperate to get some more of your syrupy mouth bobbing up and down on him like last time... So you give it to him. Stuff as much as you can of him into your mouth and push him down your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you rejoice on the feeling of fullness he gives you. And his taste. He tastes good... good and familiar... And it's making you beat yourself up for not having drop your head on him down and dirty on Halloween night after noticing he'd gotten hard just from making out with you over the console. You're determined to make up for it now though... By fondling the skin of his thighs and belly as you sink your head farther and harder... and still suckling on his tip even when you need to come up for a breath... making sure he gets to see how bloody greedy you are for the savoriness of his essence... and how willing you are to lick it all up just so no drop goes to waste. Harry's breathing is heavy, scattered with wet crackles as he looks down at you. "Are you..." He probes, while your mouth is still moving around him. "moaning?" His eyebrows remain furrowed in pleasure as he lifts up over his elbows to check on you. "Is that you making these pretty noises? Are you moaning around my cock?" A fluttery soud echoes inside the room as you pull him out. "No..." "Yes you are." Harry chuckles at your shy demeanor. "Bet you're making a right mess inside your panties, aren't you baby?" "I can't help it..." You admit coyly, feeling a little bashful over the question. "It's your fault." "Is it?" He tuts his tongue, flashing you a jolly smile before he's putting back a little on the bed and sitting up. "It's only fair I get to take care of it then, innit?" You put up a bit of a pouty hassle, saying that you weren't quite done with him yet, but it's pointless. He's already making his way around your body and switching your positions, so you figure you might as well let him have his way with you... since he's already snagging the rest of your clothes off. You've always love Harry's laugh. But there's something special about it in moments like these, when
you're watching him struggle to pull off your sneakers and your tight elastic pants. -- moments when he's naked, and his face looks a bit flustered as sweet and warm sounding playful cackles erupt from the bottom of his chest. But then his eyes dart up to yours, greenish and luscious with arousal, as he sets himself in between your legs. You squirm. Tensing immediately at the feeling of his lips venturing down towards your pineapple printed, in more than one way, hipster, panties. “If I remember correctly, I owe you two orgasms from last time, right?” He questions. Your mouth opened with a surprised ‘Oh’, as you tried squirming a little upwards in order lift up in your elbows, eager on asserting that you weren’t holding him accountable over such a silly promise. He paid your rumbling no mind, giving both your knees a sharp tug, that put you back into a laid down in position in no time. “So now I’m thinking we should just get one of them out of the way...” He says, with tempting glossy eyes and the ghost of a smile still pushing the corner of his mouth upwards due to the squeal that escaped yours at the sudden yank he’d given your body. Or was it more of a moan? It surely made your whole-body tingle with arousal. “I didn’t know we were keeping track…” “We're not. -- I just want to give you a good time.” He said, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and you waste no time in lifting your bum to help him on working the fabric down your legs, once they’re out, he tosses them to the floor and wraps his hands around your thighs. You felt a part of the heat rush back to your cheeks once you heard him moan out a soft ‘Fuck…’ as he caressed up and down your legs with his eyes locked on your center, before they lifted right up to meet your curious ones. “Swear I could cum just from looking at this pussy...” He spoke, thumbs carefully spreading you open, revealing the spot where you were warmest and dampest for him. “but I’m too greedy not to have a taste, so...” “Lucky me…” Your words were but a gasp as you let your body fall back over the sheets at the feeling of the boy’s tongue slowly lapping between your lips for the first time that day. Right of the bat, the feeling’s already too much to handle, making you unintentionally slither up the bed to avoid pushing your legs together. “Are you ever going to learn how to be good and stay still or am I going to have to tie you to the bed next time?” Harry menaces jokingly, giving your knees another tug and tightening the grip of his arms around your legs to keep you in place. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...” You apologize, spreading your thighs open at the feeling of a palm pushing against the inner part of one. “But just to put it out there... I don’t know if you were kidding or not about the tying thing but, if that’s something you’re into, I’m down to try it sometime...” His face sparks up with astonishment. “Quite forward aren’t you?” Your eyes avert away as his eyebrows jump up teasingly. It’s more for show really… because you’re not ashamed of it whatsoever. You know Harry gets off on your wants, and you’re more than happy planting lustful seeds into his brain for later. “I want to try loads of things with you; that being one of them..." He acknowleges, smiling. "but let’s focus on what my tongue’s doing for now, yeah?” Without further ado, he dives back to work, licking up into you with broad and slow strokes of his tongue. You’re still squirming a little, letting out soft whines and feeling your hips jump lightly with each heated swipe he gave against your sensitive bud... but it’s not long until your body begins relaxing into the intensity of pleasure you are being gifted. One of your hands, that had been gripping tightly at the sheets, comes up to nestle Harry’s silky hair, that he hadn’t bothered to tie, away from his face. "Is it good? Do you like the way it tastes?" His wild eyes jump up at your question. "Love it." He says amidst a soft slurp, before he pulls away to answer. "Always gets me hard thinking about it
too... having you all soaked and spread for me to clean with my tongue." You fell captivated by the way the dim afternoon light embraced his features, accentuating the sharp lines of his face; his eyebrows, his cheekbones, and his jaw -- open wide as his smooth tongue delved inside of you. You could catch onto glimpses of its pinkness with each passionate tilt of his head. He looked absolutely delighted by the way you tasted; His eyes were pressed shut as he held onto your thighs, running his fingers up and down soothingly over your skin from time to time, akin to the moans he occasionally let loose. The view enough to prompt that familiar fizzy feeling to start in the lowest realms of your tummy. “Fuck, Harry… You look so pretty in between my legs...” The words escaped you before you could stop yourself from saying them. His eyes dart up at you again. “You think I’m pretty?” Deep blueish green and so bright with arousal that you could feel them lighting sparks all over your body. “You’re so pretty…” You reutter, giving into stroking his ego once more. “and so good…” “Yeah? You like good boys?” “Mm Mm, you’re such a good boy… with such a filthy mouth…” "Yeah?" He was giving you a proper show, spitting right over your clit spreading the wetness around the with the tip of his tongue in languid circles.“But you like my filthy mouth, don’t you baby?” He asked, leaning closer and giving the swollen and pulsating bud and a gentle suck that had you curling your toes and pushing yourself upwards in his mouth. “Fuck… I- yes, yes. I love it…” Y/N whimpers; body hot and trembling as the boy carries on suckling at the bud with his eyes locked into hers. There was nothing you could do but lay there moaning, tugging mercilessly at Harry’s hair with shaky fingers and taking whatever he gave you; whether it was quick and precise flicks of his tongue or long, harsh sucks to your clit that had your eyeballs rolling towards the back of your head.“Eyes on me,” He demands at the realization that you had let them fall shut. “I want you to watch just how fucking filthy it can be…” Watching was overwhelming. It was the way his mouth was dripping with your essence as he stared back at you with that blatant cocky beam in his eyes of someone who simply knows they are giving it to you good. Just another reminder of why Harry, and only Harry was the subject behind your wildest fantasies… And fuck, lord knows you wouldn’t have the guts to deny that he owned you if he dared to ask who that pussy belonged to, even if you wanted to. The suction was ungraciously sloppy from the wetness that you could not only feel and hear but also smell in the air, so active that you could practically taste it in your own tongue… and Harry was groaning as he lapped at it. – soft groans against your damp flesh that were downright dirty, just like the encouraging words he murmured anytime his tongue managed to steal a good moan from you. “Need you to cum baby, -- need you to cum so that I can push my cock nice and deep inside of you... You still want that, right? Want me to fuck that pretty little cunt you until I’m all finished, don’t you?” “Yes! Fuck, Harry… -- Yes, yes… that’s all I want…” Your upcoming orgasm had your legs attempting to fall shut, but Harry’s strong hands pushed them back apart, keeping you spread to the point where it almost hurt in the places where your limbs joined, but you’d admit that if one thing, the pain was only turning you on more. “Oh my god, -- please keep going, -- please, please…” Y/N helplessly cries once Harry pushes his mouth on her harder and begins to ruthlessly tongue-fuck her softest spots; the noises are wet, -- pure gushing wet, to add to the moaning and groaning and desperate whining from Y/N as her orgasm finally begins to unravel like an explosion of colorful fireworks, She swears she can see them if she presses her eyes shut hard enough. Harry carries on licking you through it, the
strokes of his tongue knowingly growing slower and more yielding to avoid causing any uncomfortable sensitiveness. You find yourself lovingly staring and combing his hair back as he does it, until he's beaming back at you with the cutest, droopiest eyes. You let out an audible satisfied sigh then, and he decides to pull away; but not before displaying an array of kisses anywhere in between your lower stomach and your inner thighs… which you partly believe is to clean his face, but it doesn't make you appreciate the sweet gesture any less. Harry smiles widely at the adorably grouse-y “Come to me.” plead you throw at him with a pair of grabby hands. The smile never leaves his face as he wiggles his way upwards your body until you are face to face again. You hold his face with both your hands, running your thumbs across his warmed cheeks and staring straight into his eyes. "Thank you." You whisper and he nods, pushing his face down just so your lips meet in a deep urgent kiss. You hum at the taste of your own arousal that is inevitably spreading from Harry’s tongue to yours as he rocks his hips further to skim against the spot where you’re still hot and fluttery; Bringing your mind back to the heavy bulge you could feel brushing against the skin of your hip. “Do you want me to go get a condom?” You ask a little coyly, words muffling together with the way you’re humming them. "I got some the other day, and brought them just in case..." “Wait, I think…” Harry climbs a little up in the bed, tongue slightly peeking out as he reaches his arm to open the top bedside drawer. He fumbles his way around the drawer, letting out a little ‘A-ha’ once his fingers reach one of the loose wrappers cluttered in the back. He picks it out and pushes the drawer back closed, drawing a fit of giggles from you once he decides to start puckering your face and neck as he shimmies his way down into position. Your heart is hammering anxiously in your chest as you watch him kneel on the bed in between your legs and tear apart the shiny wrapping with his teeth. As you lay still, with his figure hovering over you, that’s when a wave of apprehensiveness comes crashing down on you; making you feel like a bloody virgin all over again as you watch Harry blow a quick breath on the condom before moving to roll it over his member. “Y/N?” His face glimmers at your fixed staring. “You’re still with me?” He asks with a gentle stroke to your knee. "You can tell me if you want to stop, we don't have to-" "No." You push yourself up into a sit up position, leaning forward and smearing your mouth sloppily on his. Your teeth clash a bit with the slope, but neither of you are bothered by it as you carry on devotedly kissing each-other like your lives depended on it. Harry’s hands snag onto your lower back to pull you closer, attaching your body to his until you are practically sitting on his lap again. It was nothing short of erotic, the way you let your head dip backwards under his touch; back arched as he hungrily rubs and sucks on both your breasts, until your hips are swaying against his lap in a silent plead for him. “You want to stay on top?” He questions once you climb impossibly closer, wrapping your arms around his neck for balance. “Trying to take care of me, is that it?” “Yes, I want to take care of you.” You reach down then, grabbing his length and positioning it at your entrance. Harry helps you some, by holding it in place as you try sinking down on him for the first time. It did not go in right away. Nor in the next couple of times you tried it. It wasn’t that surprising really. Harry was big, -- and this position was definitely not the most ideal for unfurling, but you wanted to be the one taking care of him, not only that but you knew this would make it extra nice and tight for him, and for reasons best known to you, you wanted to make an impression. “Do you want me to help?” He asks deliberately, noticing your struggle. “No. I can do it myself.” You stated obstinately, tone growing a little sour from exasperation
as you carried on trying. You swore could cry angry tears if you granted yourself the chance to, but before you could, Harry was flipping you back down onto the mattress. Leaving you completely boggled, staring back at him with awkwardly bent limbs and a disgracefully pliable and pumping cunt. “Always a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” He teases as he crawls steadily on top of you. “We’d be here all night if I’d let you have things your way…” The boy quips knowingly, clamping his hands on your wrists and pining them right over your head. “And I would. I really would…" He brings one of his hands to his mouth, shamelessly spitting over his palm before he grips it down on himself. He moans as he slides his hand up and down his cock, mouthwateringly hard and dripping with precum. "but I have an aching prick baby... and it really, really can’t wait any longer.” Your body is fighting beneath his, jerking upwards in the sheets in supplication for him to just push it inside you instead. You’re being persuasive, but he doesn’t bend to your pleading right away. He seems amused though, with the way his lip tilts up at the corner. “Will you let me fuck you?” His question is bold and unswerving, but the look in his face that follows it is winsome enough to give you space for reckoning. Not that you needed any, because not a second goes by before you are whimpering a batch of toothsome yeses. “Do you trust me?” He adds, looking right into your eyes. Your body stills some¸ emotions bubbling in your chest at the realization of just how much you do, and how much you do not want to be in this position with anyone but Harry ever again. It makes you wonder if he is feeling it too. The impassioned aura that was coming down over your body as you feel him aligning himself with the gap between your legs. Hot and velvety and so bloody hard. “Yes. -- Yes, I trust you…” Harry’s mouth is on yours in a short breath, as his hips gently flex forward. The syrupy kiss you were sharing inevitably cracking into groans as his member dips his way inside the warm and slick tightness of your walls. He takes his time easing himself into you, slowly drawing halfway out before he’s diving further in again, deeper and deeper with each subdued thrust. Before you know it, he’s staring at you, boyish and gratified smile adorning his features. “All set.” He hums, leaning down for a sweet little peck to the tip of your nose. “How does it feel, princess?” You cutely scrunch it up at him before returning the gesture. “Feels good, -- just a bit tight...” “But you like it, right?" He smirks boastfully in jest. "Being stuffed with me and all that...” Your brows furrow disapprovingly. “You know what I really would like?" Y/N badgers, unnable to mask the giddiness she feels once he looks at her and hums solemnly. "If you would just shut up and get with it before I cum from the anticipation alone.” With a soft cackle, Harry’s reaching down and clasping his mouth onto yours in a hasty and provoking urge. “Don’t rush it." He solicits against your lips, before his tongue finds its way into your mouth and starts circling yours gingerly, like it was sweeter than the sweetest cherry wine. "Let me enjoy this for a little while... -- I promise I’ll be giving it to you hard and fast before you even know it.” And shit, -- Y/N really couldn’t say ‘no’ to that now, could she? So she resents on accepting whatever Harry gives her... and gripping at his skin roughly as he fills her up with slow and considerate lunges for a time. Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever had sex this compelling before. And it’s not about the sex itself... It’s the unexplainable connection she feels with Harry. It makes no sense. She knows it doesn’t, but everything in her body effortlessly blooms as soon as their bodies touch. Whether it is the mere presence of his hand on the small of her back while they roam around Ikea’s small spaces, or his nails branding her skin with how hard he is squeezing her thighs open. To make things better, Harry’s
eyes remain trained on your face the whole time his tongue and lips aren’t lavishing your mouth. Your fingers are buried in the strands of his hair, tugging harder at the roots with each passing moment of slow and sensual thrusts to your soppy hole. Y/N firmly believes he likes it though, with the way he tends to pick up the rhythm and growl against the transpiring skin of her neck the more she tightens the grip of her fist. “God, baby -- you feel so good. Got such a perfect cunt…” Harry utters lowly, at a particularly pleasurable smack of his hips. “So soft and warm, -- and mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Just like my dick's all yours too.” He moans, and you can’t help but to join him as you nod your head yes. He was all that you could feel. Every wheezy breath of his; every greedy mouth collision; every scratch of your nails up and down his back and ass to pull him closer. “You're warm too… and fuck, your dick… ‘s huge.” You groan, the comment surprisingly making his cheeks glow a little pink. “But you work it so well… make it feel so good.” He's moving in and out of you with slow and deep rolls of his hips. The tip of his shaft nudging against that spot inside of you repeatedly and making your lips part in delight. “That’s all you baby… being such a good girl, taking me so well…” It’s filthy, it’s so fucking filthy with Harry pining you over the mattress; noises of skin slapping wetly mix with the ones the bed makes by rocking against the wall, causing outbursts of arousal to spread through your entire body, leaving it tingly everywhere. There’s something so utterly romantic about it though. Harry won’t take his eyes away from your face. – They’re as beautifully oceanic and evocative as ever, only now they’re glazed with a warm and watery layer of arousal, one that you pray is reserved for your eyes only. It's dangerously intimate like this. With the tips of your noses brushing together, hearts beating in a similar rushed pace and lungs partaking the same weighty breaths as both bodies move as one in the pursuit of mutual release. And yes; the fit was tight, but it came tied to a pleasure so mighty, it left no room for wondering. Harry was going to give you that second ‘o’... and you were going to leave a mess all over his bedsheets, whether the burn came to down to ease or not. “Please… don’t stop...” Your throat unwittingly buzzes. You hate how desperate you sound but you can’t stop yourself from asking for it. “I think I’m gonna cum again..." “Yeah? You wanna cum? C’mon then, cum for me…” Harry’s visibly gritting his teeth from pleasure, hips falling against yours quicker and harder, and there’s a protruding vein pumping firmly on the side of his neck. “C’mon Y/N, gimme a good one... fuckin’ ruin me…” You can tell he’s reaching the end of his rope… and luckily so are you. “I’m going to, Harry. Fuck, please -- cum in me.” You ramble into his mouth. You tried pushing your hips up to meet him halfway, but it was useless with the way Harry’s hands were keeping you steady against the mattress as he sloppily pounded into you, fast and hard like he promised he would. “Cum in me.” You begged. “Show me how much you really like my cunt…” “Fuck. – baby… I love it. I love it so much.” He practically purrs. -- Or maybe it’s the way Y/Ns body is jittering in all places under him that’s making it sound like that. Her mind feels like TV static, her heart is hammering inside her ribcage and there is a loud buzzing in her ears. Harry’s pace is strong… and messy, but fuck it feels so good! You can feel the pressure of his cock on the deepest parts of you; you can hear and feel the heavy breaths and pleasure cries he’s bearing in your ear; you can taste his skin and his sweat and his arousal like you were actually bathing in him. And once he pushes his prick inside of you fully and rolls his hips upwards to push against your sensitive spot, you're a goner. You crumble apart. -- clawing on Harry’s back and pushing your mouth against his collar in attempts to
muffle your loud moans as your tight walls clench and pulse around him. “Shit, you're squeezing me so good. -- there we go… ahh, shit... that’s it… keep coming on my cock…” He grunts against your temple as he carries on swaying his hips rashly against yours. Inevitably, your ecstatic state pushes Harry to his own orgasm as well. He groans, spurting ropes and ropes of sticky ooze inside the condom. It’s warm. So warm that you can feel it through the rubber. It makes you mewl softly into his neck. His body still rocking against your own as the last waves of pleasure erupt through your bodies, seconds before they start to feel too drowsy to move. If Heaven was real, Y/N had just found her own personal one. As Harry lets his body fall atop of yours, still inside you. His heart is beating fast, making his chest convulse a little against the sweaty skin of your belly, his hair feels messy and damp once your fingers come down to push his long curls back. Your hand finds his face, that he’d let drop in the middle of your chest, to craddle and he tilts his head up to look at you. “What?” You ask once you witness him breathe out the softest, happiest sigh you’d probably ever seen him give. “Nothing,” He says before dragging himself upwards and pushing his mouth on yours again appreciatively. He rolls over to the side, but his arms come to seek for you to come cuddle against him right away. You fall into him easily, tangling your legs together as he adjusts the covers over you. “You kept your socks on.” He comments once he feels them scrape against his legs. You pull him closer against your body, reveling on the way his undressed body fits snug on yours. "So did you." taglist: @just-vm​ @gracexelizzabeth​ @stylescayoon @happydays​ @littlesoldierelleora @duh-dobrik (i hope i didn’t forget anyone. if i did please lmk, same if you wanna be added ;D)
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punkcupcakestyles · an hour ago
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Just One More Time
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A Masterlist
Part 1: The memory of that night
Part 2: A deal is a deal
Part 3: An idiot, and he knew it (sneak peek)
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justice4canyonmoon · an hour ago
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justice4canyonmoon’s masterlist
I know that this is pretty small right now, but it will definitely get bigger in the future!
* indicates smut
*Let Me Make You Feel Good
Work Of Art
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Masterlist
this is a masterlist of all of the requests i’ve answered and will be updated as i answer more
Famous!Reader Fics
Friends with Benefits Angst Fics
Favorite Angst Fics
Hickey Fics
Nerd!Harry Fics
Accident Fics
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hsogolden · 3 hours ago
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I’m so excited to finally be sharing the first chapter of this story with you all! If you haven’t yet, make sure you read the prologue before this, it will just help understand a few things better! Also! I just want to remind yall that this story is somewhat dark and violent and there’s a few warnings and so if any of that bothers you please don’t read! It’s most definitely not like anything else I’ve written so I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable! As always, my inbox is open to feedback, constructive criticism and other thoughts! Thank you for reading if you choose to!!
♠︎ warnings: death, violence, mentions of suicide and pedophelia (the pedos die though i promise), abuse, alcohol use, blood, sexual content
♣︎  word count: 10.6k
MASTERLIST // STORY TAG // ASK TAG // PLAYLIST // MOODBOARD // CHARACTERS // MY MASTERLIST // MY INBOX
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“Is this Doja?” Z had no choice but to shout over the incessant noise inside Eden, the nightclub that prided itself on exclusivity, making it so that all hopeful residents of southeast Kypa would be stuck on a mile-long waiting list for over two months just for one single night of fun.
Unless, of course, your names were Zora or Ember, and you weren’t necessarily natural born Kypians, but you had other naturally born qualifications that came in handy.
Like knowing how to aim a gun and where to stick a knife. 
Ember hadn’t been leaning against the shiny, silver pole for very long. It actually wasn’t until she’d accidentally snuck a hand someplace it shouldn’t have been and she was suddenly quite interested in the men hanging around her and her best friend the entire night. 
She swore his name was something like… Jordan or James. Some asshole name. But the tall, dark-haired asshole whom she hadn’t lost eye contact with was packing, and that was all she cared about. 
“Em!” Z started again, her voice nearly lost among the welcomed group of men crowding around her on the booth. Once she finally had the attention of Ember, who seemed clueless, Z cocked her head and her eyebrows rose to damn near her hairline. “I’m talking to you!” 
If Ember was the muscle and brains, Zora was the attitude and persuasion, which was possibly why they worked so well together. Zora had already wrapped their target tightly around her finger, so much that he was currently lifting a martini glass to Z’s mouth, and Ember was already fitting in getting laid by Jordan—or James—into their plans for the night. 
Ember rolled her eyes and shouted back her response to Z’s initial question that she most certainly had heard, but was choosing to ignore. And given the fact that Zora fell right back into the rich men surrounding her, all hoping to get lucky, Em didn’t think the artist of the song currently playing was of too much importance anymore.
So, she went back to her own target, one that she would most definitely be taking home. However, he would be seeing the light of day again afterward, unlike the poor blonde bastard under Zora’s watchful gaze. 
Andre Brahm was most certainly a bastard who deserved what was in store for him. He was one piece of a multi-layered sex-trafficking ring that Zora and Ember’s client had been investigating for months. And then they had names, a whole list of them in fact, to hunt down and terminate by the end of September. Andre was one of the few still left, and it fueled Em with an unhealthy amount of excitement to know that by the following night, they’d all be gone for good—as long as her plan worked out the way it was supposed to. Without Zora, it’d be a trickier process, but Ember had no intentions of waiting another day, or even another hour, to let the very last name on their list do any more damage. 
Jordan—or James—was a distraction, one that took her mind off of putting a bullet into Andre’s skull already and being done with it. If the cleanup afterward wouldn’t be so damn shitty, she might’ve seriously considered it. But, alas, they needed to stick to the plan. Or… most of it at least. 
There was no harm in sprinkling in just a little… or, actually, a lot of fun, if what she’d felt growing under Jordan—or James’s—zipper was any indication.
He sat back against the booth, his hands clasped in his lap conveniently, as he watched Ember and as he smiled at her. And he had such a sweet, innocent smile that she almost felt bad for sweeping him up into her tornado. 
Almost.
She smiled back, but it wasn’t the least bit sweet or innocent. As it turned out, the song itself was of some importance while she waited for the beat to drop. And once it did, there was no stopping her. No telling Ember a damn thing as she slid herself down the pole, her knees bending and her legs spreading before him. She watched on in confident amusement while the color seemed to drain from his face, his lips thinning to a hard line as his eyes fell to what was between her legs. No one besides Jordan—or James—would know that Ember had chosen to not wear a damn thing underneath her skin-tight black dress. She was certain her evil little dimples appeared when he gave her the reaction she craved. Just that little bit of attention when she wasn’t murdering someone, or actively planning to, made his distraction all the better. It made butterflies, real ass butterflies, come to life in her stomach when he fit a palm over himself to hide what she was doing to him. It made her head spin to see that look on his face, the one of hunger and need that she hoped he’d make again when she was ripping his clothes off. 
When he met her gaze again, she gave him a knowing, and a bit cocky, smile before straightening and twisting herself around the pole. She wasn’t trained in it at all, but she was trained in other ways that gave her just enough muscle in all the right places to not make a complete ass of herself while attempting a move or two. 
She didn’t get that far, though, because as soon as she turned, gripping the pole for balance, she fell into a deep pool of emerald green eyes as they watched her from across the club. As he stood leaning against the balcony, arms crossed on top of the marble bannister. Watching her. 
Normally, she’d think nothing of it. But he was… he was different. Something about him was different. His stare held her immobile and she wasn’t exactly the type to let anyone have any sort of way with her. Especially someone who was so far away, most of his angular face was cast in shadows—all except for his eyes which glowed when the fast, beaming club lights hit them. Even so, even if she’d never relinquish an ounce of power to a single living soul, she couldn’t seem to move one useless muscle as if he’d just locked her legs into place for good, with only a goddamned pair of eyes. 
Then there was a calloused hand sliding up her arm and a voice in her ear asking, “Is everything alright?” And when she turned quickly, forcibly peeling her eyes—and her body—away, she felt an ache deep within her from the loss of contact with him. Even as she tilted her head back to meet the concerned gaze of Jordan—or James—she couldn’t shake the feeling he’d left her with. 
She cleared her throat and forced a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” she glanced toward Z for a moment, who was still lost in her own bubble, and then back to the man in front of her as she racked her brain for an excuse. Her hands moved first, without much thought put into it, but as they made their way around his neck and she pulled herself into to him, she was pretty sure she could say just about anything and he would go along with it. So, reaching her lips to his ear, she came up with something. “I wanted you closer.”
She felt him chuckle more than she heard it, because all she could think about was those green eyes. If they were still watching her. Why they had been watching her in the first place. If he was just another lust-filled man, or someone she should be fearful of. Someone she should be watching her back for. 
Her instincts screamed at her that every random stranger was someone to be fearful of, but, at the same time, she hadn’t felt an ounce of dread when she’d locked eyes with him. More… wonder and curiosity that seemed to light some sort of flame inside of her that, with Jordan—or James’s—interruption, was suddenly put out. 
She led Jordan—or James—around the pole, an excuse to turn herself around so she could light that flame again, but as soon as she did, as soon as her eyes traveled up to the balcony, he was already gone. Even as she searched desperately, he was nowhere to be found. The dark emptiness settled in and she guided Jordan—or James—back onto the booth, sliding onto his lap once more and promising the ride of his life when she’d finally get him alone.
*                                              *                                 *
She kept her word, of course, and her death grip on the headboard was an equal match to the one he had on her hips. That was about all they matched on, however, because he couldn’t keep up with her to save his life. And if he knew who was on top of him, who he was inside, Jordan—or James—would definitely be fucking her like he valued his life. Although he was big, and she was thoroughly enjoying it, he didn’t know how to use it, and instead, let her take control. She wouldn’t often—if ever—have a man in her bed any other way, though, so she couldn’t blame the way he submitted to her every little request. Or big request, like when she reached down to wrap one hand around his throat, the other over his mouth and instead of being scared, he came instantly instead. She chuckled, burying him deep inside of her while he moaned loud enough for Zora to hear, she was sure, even with her hand plastered to his mouth. She kept riding him until she got what she wanted, and then fell onto her back beside him. As soon as she caught her breath, each second that passed by afterward she grew more and more annoyed by his presence. It always happened, though, with every single man she brought home. She wanted them out the door as soon as possible. Jordan—or James—was allowed a bit of a grace period where she didn’t literally kick him out, which she couldn’t say for the rest of the men she’d fucked who had a much smaller package than him. He’d be gone soon anyway so she let him stay until then, even if she felt the violent urge to shove him out of her bed and onto his ass every time he took a deep breath and she was reminded he was still there.
“That was…” he breathed, his hand splayed across his abdomen, and she just smiled to herself because she knew exactly the effect she had on men and Jordan—or James—was not immune to it. 
“I forgot your name,” she hoped he would be like every other cocky man who thought they’d fucked her so good, she’d forgotten, and not the truth of it. That she never knew his name to begin with.
He chuckled and rand his hand through his hair, “It’s Johnny.”
“Johnny,” she repeated in a hum, not having guessed that one at all, and after a silent moment, her phone dinged, saving her from whatever small talk Johnny was just about to subject her to.
Her eyes scanned the message, already knowing what it would say, but just making sure it was the message she was waiting for. She clicked her screen off and set her phone back down. Then, she turned to him and sighed.
“Time to go.” 
His smile grew for a moment before he realized she was being serious. When she sat up, he lifted onto his elbows, watching her incredulously. “Wait, what?”
She paced to the wardrobe in the room and pulled out a clean button-up, slipping it on and fastening it before flickering her eyes to him nonchalantly. 
“Leave. Now.” She ordered for the final time, or at least she hoped it would be. That there was enough threat in her tone to scare him. She almost felt bad when she saw how he looked at her, like she’d just ripped his heart out, but at the very least he didn’t seem angry about it. No, he wasn’t mad and that was good. He wouldn’t fight her and he wouldn’t argue. 
He shook his head and scoffed, kicking the blanket off and fetching his clothes in a mad rush. Once he had his dignity covered, he faced her and motioned toward the bed. “Did this mean anything to you?”
Her earlier assumptions about him being easy to kick out were suddenly back to haunt her. So, she smiled sweetly like the little cold-hearted demon she was, and delivered the final blow. “Of course not, Johnny.”
He gave her that look again and she wished it made her feel something. She wished she felt sorry for her words, for hurting him, but she didn’t. She had no empathy for him. It was his fault after all, he could have just left, no questions asked, but he chose otherwise. So this is what he got. Ember at her very worst.
“Unbelievable.” He muttered under his breath before picking his wallet up off the floor and storming to her bedroom door. 
She rolled her eyes and followed him, pausing to lean against the doorframe as she watched him, hoping he wouldn’t turn and make matters worse for himself.
Johnny glanced at something across the room which slowed his pace and when Ember took a couple steps forward, she found Zora at her own door, waving him off with a smile that might’ve been polite and sympathetic if Ember didn’t know better.
Ember stifled a laugh, biting her lip just as Johnny threw his eyes over his shoulder at her, probably wondering how his life had gotten to this point, where he got trapped in her web and then kicked out onto his ass, but he just shook his head again and left, not even bothering to stop the door from slamming shut behind him.
Ember sighed, crossing her arms and turning toward her best friend, pretending to pout. “I liked him.”
“You like all of them,” Zora reminded her, leaning one shoulder against her closed door.
The hotel suite was one they often used, as long as they cleaned up after themselves at the end of the night. The owner was very familiar with their line of work and if he peeped a word to anyone, he’d lose everything, including the tens of thousands of dollars he was paid to keep his mouth shut. His was one of the few lasting relationships they’d built from their previous years of working under Dominic Aldine.
But Dom was a different story, and not one that mattered to either of them anymore.
“He was different.” Ember pulled a pistol from its hiding place in a large potted plant, twisting on the silencer and checking the clip as she walked toward Zora. 
“You know men are more than just the size of their cocks, right?”
Ember shrugged. “Maybe… but that’s all they’re good for. And his was big.” She held up her hands to demonstrate the length of Johnny, and Zora cocked an eyebrow, impressed even if she was a bit more respectful of men than Ember was. Even if Zora sort of had a… boyfriend? Ember wasn’t sure he could even be called that.
“What about his…” Ember nodded toward the door, toward the man she knew was tied up to the bed on the other side, waiting for them like dinner.
Zora scoffed. “If what I felt was all there was…” 
Ember smirked, “Then this will be a piece of cake.” 
On the way in, Ember obtained a knife, letting the metal flash in the light as she pulled it from the top dresser drawer and smiling sadistically to herself when the man whimpered from the bed. Not only would it be a piece of cake to kill this man, but she was also going to enjoy it. So, changing her mind, she set her gun down and walked toward him with just the blade in hand. All the while, he watched her, his eyes pleading for his life since his mouth couldn’t. Even through the gag, however, he whined and Ember had heard enough.
“Shut it.” She demanded, stopping at the foot of the bed and as soon as her burning hazel eyes held his, every sound that came out of him ceased. She flipped the hilt of the knife in her hand and smiled at him, “Good boy.”
He was nothing more than the animal she was treating him as. All the faces of innocent women flashed behind her eyes, women he had a hand in destroying for no other reason than gaining power and money. Women he’d sold like slaves, women she was positive he’d bought for himself, too. Women that deserved so much better. Women Ember couldn’t save.
She gritted her teeth, reminding herself that once he was dead, she would be saving those women. The ones that would be his future prey. Sure, there were more like him out there, but taking just one out at a time was still progress. And by tomorrow, all of his associates would be buried six feet under. 
Actually, she wasn’t quite sure what Ryker did with the bodies after he was called to clean up. She never asked, nor did she particularly care what happened to them. They could rot for an eternity for all she cared. They deserved no dignity for what they’d done.
Ember slid the tip of the knife up the bottom of the man’s foot, watching as he struggled to find a way to escape, which just amused her more. “So you’re the Andre Brahm.” He froze when he heard his name and she tilted her head to the side as her eyes wandered down and back up his body. She’d seen enough of him at the club but she had been a tad bit distracted at the time. “I thought you’d be… bigger.”
A muffled, low sounding, desperate, “please,” came from behind the gag.
“Your life is not worth begging for.” Ember’s lips thinned in annoyance and she felt Zora shift on her feet. She’d never really been good at this part of the job. Zora could reel them in with all the cunning strength of a black widow, but she always hesitated when it came to killing, which is why Ember did most of the heavy lifting now.
Still, the man pleaded for his life, louder and louder until Ember’s rage inflamed behind her eyes and she lifted her hand quick and impaled the blade of the knife into his foot. At that point, he was screaming behind his gag, eyes bulging as he stared down at the bloody mess of what she’d done. He tried to pull his legs back, but it only made things worse for him and he screamed louder.
“I told you to shut it.” Her voice wasn’t loud, not as loud as it could be, but just enough to be heard over his cries. He quieted instantly, and even Zora would admit that Ember was a nightmare when she wanted to be. And right now, she wanted to be the worst kind of nightmare that could give a person insomnia for the rest of their lives.
Ember pulled up on the blade and with a thunk, his foot fell free of her knife, but this time, if he had wanted to scream again, nothing came out. Not even as he stared at the blood gushing from his wound. He was breathing frantically and sweating profusely, however, and that was all she really needed. She didn’t care for the screaming and the pleading. But those little things the body did when it was afraid were enough. He should be afraid, she thought, he should feel everything he made countless innocent women feel.
“Good dog,” she snickered, “you learn quick.”
Zora nearly opened her mouth to tell the man to scream as much as he wanted, knowing that if he did, Ember would put her knife through his heart and be done with this already. But Zora knew what it was like to be in the hands of a man like Andre. Where she was helpless to his control. And Ember… Ember was far too familiar with it; so Zora kept her mouth shut and let her friend do what she needed to do.
Ember didn’t usually play too long, just enough to make the sorry man think he had a chance at escaping. It wasn’t often she opted for knives, either, but a simple bullet through the head seemed like she was giving him the mercy of an easy way out. And he didn’t deserve that.
She paced up the outskirts of the bed, picturing Ryker’s displeased face when he found the mess she was making as she cleaned her knife off on the sheets and some of it dripped onto the floor. That would be his problem, though, and while he may admonish her for it later, it would be well worth it.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the man squirmed away from her, as much as his bindings would allow and met her wicked gaze with one filled of terror. He must know this was it. He was taking his final breaths. He knew it was coming, she had been picking off his friends one by one the past month and now she’d finally come for him.
She crossed her legs and her arms, glancing down at the sharpened edge of her blade as if she were bored and then looked at him again. She was beautiful, even if she was about to stick her knife someplace he’d never recover from.
“Any last words?” She mused and pointedly dropped her eyes to his mouth, where the gag was still firmly in place. Then she smiled again. “It’s only fair isn’t it? You didn’t show any of those women a stitch of mercy, did you?” 
“E…” Zora warned and Ember stiffened for just a moment. She knew she was dragging this out too much, knew nothing she said would ever fix her own broken pieces. She still tried, though, sticking them together with glue and tape until she could pretend to be whole again. It never lasted long.
He began pleading again, this time with tears falling down his cheeks. Ember just shook her head and let Andre see the darkness within her as she locked eyes with him moments before she stabbed her knife into his chest. 
Before the light drained from him entirely, she leaned in, guiding her lips to his ear as he grunted when her movements shoved the knife in further. “See you in hell.” She whispered and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth before his head tipped to the other side and his eyes became dull and distant. Gone. 
She pulled her knife free and stood, not giving him another look as she wiped off the blade on the sheets again and, instead, met Zora’s watchful, apprehensive gaze.
“Do you feel better now?” Z crossed her arms.
“Not even in the slightest.” Ember sauntered off to the dresser, retrieving her gun and replacing the knife into its drawer. Ryker would undoubtedly give it a thorough cleaning once he’d taken care of the body. She twisted only halfway back to Zora but kept her eyes to the floor, “Let’s go.”
*                                              *                                 *
Ember left the rest of last night’s job up to Zora, which involved circling back to the clients, being paid for yet another body from the diminished list of men, and going over the details of the final stretch of the mission that had been scrupulously planned out by Ember days in advance.
With Andre, she’d followed him for a couple days to learn his patterns and to find weak spots within them. The moment she found out he had reservations to Eden, the plan practically fell into place for her. That had been his biggest weak spot: Eden. Any other club, and they wouldn’t have been as lucky. But the man who owned Eden had a bit of a soft spot for Zora ever since they’d first stepped foot on the property. Since then, they’d gained each other’s trust and he let both Zora and Ember do as they pleased, as long as they didn’t make a mess and he got a cut of the profit. Zora also tried to throw in some more… creative forms of payment—because Ace was, quote, the hottest man she’d ever laid eyes on—but he’d refused. When Zora pouted, however, he’d stepped closer, swiped his thumb over her bottom lip and told her, “When we fuck, it won’t be because you owe it to me. It’ll be because you want it.” If Ember had been in on that conversation, she would have surely rolled her eyes—and maybe gagged a little—but luckily she’d only gotten the highlights hours later when Zora was still swooning.
And now there was the final name. Edmond Wallis. His weak spot was frequenting The Palace without his usual entourage of guards. He arrived at exactly eleven-thirty every Saturday night and disappeared into a room with one of the girls, alone, for hours. Anything could happen in that spanse of time and his one and only guard would be too distracted by the other naked women to check on him.
Not to mention, Ember quite enjoyed using her body against men. It made her feel powerful to watch them go from thinking they were getting a piece of her to realizing she’d be biting a chunk out of them instead. 
She also liked waltzing around in nothing but cute lingerie, too.
Everything was set in order by lunchtime, which is when Zora returned with Ace hot on her heels. 
They had, of course, already been well introduced to each other’s beds by this point. It hadn’t really taken very long at all, in fact. And Ember couldn’t understand how Zora continued to want him, how she didn’t get sick of it. How she could sit at their dining table and gush about all the things Ace had done and said that day. 
When she had asked, Zora just insisted that Ace was fun and nothing more than that.
Even so, Ember watched them closely and with mild disgust as Zora met her in the kitchen and, moments after she stopped in front of her, Ace wrapped his arms around her middle, making her giggle when he tucked his fingers into ticklish spots on her sides.
“I thought I told you to stop doing that!” Zora squealed while smacking Ace’s arms away. He obliged, because, although he didn’t bat an eye at the whole hitwoman thing, he did obtain some morals. Like when Zora told him to stop, he did. Although, Ember wasn’t sure whether it was his morals or Zora’s ability to chop him in half that made those decisions. Possibly both, but leaning more towards the latter.
“How’d it go?” Ember asked as if she hadn’t just been gagging at the sight of them together. Ace made himself at home and strolled around the other side of the island where he dug into their fridge as if he owned the place. Which… perhaps he did. Not monetarily, but he did spend most of his nights in their penthouse. Not that he didn’t have his own, but when Ember had asked him about it, he’d just smirked and said, as sarcastically as he could, that he liked seeing her pretty face every morning.
She’d gagged at that too.
Zora sighed. “Well, I’m sure Ryker will pay you a visit later, he didn’t seem too happy about the mess you made. Did you know he has to replace the entire bed every time?”
“He may have mentioned that before.”
Ace snorted as he pulled a beer from the fridge and kicked the door shut. 
“What did you do this time?”
“She stabbed his foot.” Zora answered, earning Ember an impressed, amused, and slightly terrified look from Ace.
“The last girl he was seen with, who then disappeared, was only fifteen.”
“Bastard.” Ace grumbled, shaking his head as he took out that anger on the bottle cap, letting it fly half way across the counter once he’d pried it off.
After a silent, somber moment passed, Zora straightened. “Anyway. Once this last one is finished, I’ll meet with them tomorrow after I hear from you.”
Ember nodded. While they both took on clients of their own at times, she preferred Zora taking care of that end. She wasn’t good with people unless she was killing them and the less her clients knew about her, the better. It kept her reputation in check when only a select few actually knew what she looked like. She was the ghost. The girl who was a better killer than most of the men when she was only sixteen. And now, seven years later, she was unstoppable.
She supposed she had Dominic Aldine to thank for that, but she wouldn’t thank him even if he gave her the shirt off his back. Not that he’d ever even do something that generous.
“So,” Ace leaned onto the counter across from them, his eyes on Ember, “Zora and I were thinking that once this job is finished you two could… take a break.”
Zora cringed away slightly, clearly not expecting that topic to be brought up yet, but she didn’t say anything to stop it from happening. 
“A break?” Ember echoed.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, glancing at his… girlfriend? He still wasn’t sure what him and Zora were, actually. “Just for like… a couple months. You could go somewhere, get out of Kypa… meet someone.”
“Meet someone?” Again, she looked at him like he was crazy.
“Is there an echo in here?” 
Ember rolled her eyes. “You and Zora can take a break and travel all you want. I’ll be here.”
Zora finally opened her mouth. “Em, you can’t keep living like this. Your life is just job after job and you don’t talk about any of it. You just bury everything as deep as you can and one day, you’re gonna break.”
Ember had no idea what to say. The last thing she expected was an intervention with Zora and her… boyfriend? So, naturally, she rolled her eyes and walked away.
“Where are you going?” Zora insisted.
“Away from the two of you.” Neither of them fought Ember, mostly because they knew it was a fight they wouldn’t win, but as she disappeared into her room, she could hear them whispering back and forth, surely about the sad state of her life.
But she liked it that way. It was just her. She had nothing to lose. She had no weaknesses to be exploited. Zora, on the other hand, had Ace. If she was ever compromised, her enemies would go after him first. While Ember didn’t quite understand love, or grasp the concept of it, she still knew better than to drag someone into her life who might very well end up dead because of her. And she had lived through and tolerated so many things, but that was one she might not survive. 
She couldn’t imagine herself being in love with someone, and she wasn’t sure that’s what Zora had with Ace—at least not yet—but it was not something she wanted. He was a liability and nothing more. And if Dom ever found out about it, Ace would be wiped from the planet in a heartbeat, no questions asked.
Not to mention… she wasn’t quite sure she was even capable of that type of love. She was sure she loved Zora as a sister, and would have her back through anything, but falling in love? She’d sooner shove a knife through her own chest.
Ember spent the rest of the daylight hours sleeping and getting ready. She was thorough and meticulous, with everything from her selection of weapons to which pair of fishnets she’d wear—she’d gone with the rhinestoned ones because Ace had said any man would drop to his knees once they saw her in those.
She put that theory to the test when she emerged from her room at ten, finding Zora and Ace in the foyer where they made sure they had everything they needed for their trip. Zora had spared quite a lot of details about where she’d be, except that she was taking Ace with her. Ember didn’t care either way, she could handle Edmond Wallis on her own, and she’d long since learned that if Zora wanted her to know something, she’d know without having to ask questions.
Her heels clicked across the marble as she approached them, Ace’s eyes finding Ember decades before Zora even glanced in her direction. Which he was probably thankful for because he not only did a double take when he saw her, but he also let his eyes wander while he swallowed the pit in his throat.
Ace was, she’d admit, hot. He had angled, perfectly sculpted features and short, dark black hair that framed his face nicely. She could understand Zora’s appeal. Especially to his eyes. They were dark as well, almost black, but they could look at you like you were the only one in the room. Not to mention, Ember had too much knowledge of what was hidden underneath his black trousers thanks to Zora.
“Damn.” Ember grumbled after stopping just a few feet from them. The skirt of her dress reached the floor, but the slit up the side went all the way to her hip. And the deep V of the neckline also left little to the imagination. “You’re not on your knees.”
Ace blinked and his eyes snapped back to her face as he cleared his throat. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
Zora rolled her eyes and smacked him. “She is the most unavailable person on the planet, so don’t get any ideas.”
Ember smiled at the fact that Zora wasn’t even mad that he was clearly gawking. It made sense, though. Ember was never a threat; she just liked playing with men and making them weak, even Ace.
He straightened. “Well, I may not be on my knees, but I think I’d do just about anything you told me to.”
She was fully taking advantage of that. “Good. Go get me some wine.”
He froze for a moment and then cracked a smile, nodding just so he had an excuse to glance down the length of her again before he disappeared into the kitchen.
“Still not going to tell me where you’re going?”
Zora seemed to coil back into herself, lips thinning as she hid her eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. It’s just a… a job I picked up on my own.”
“But you need Ace’s help and not mine?”
“There’s people I’m meeting to help. Acquaintances of his.”
Ember nodded, still unsure what part of it Zora was trying to hide from her, but once Ace returned with three glasses of wine, she let it go.
“To…” Ace’s eyes scanned Ember again and he grinned, holding up his glass to theirs for a toast. “That incredible fucking outfit.”
Zora shoved him again as he emptied the contents of his glass. Ember had no idea what the deal was between the two of them. If they had some kind of open relationship, or if they had a relationship at all. Both Ace and Zora flirted with anything that had a heartbeat, so she imagined jealousy couldn’t be factored in. It was clear they wanted each other, but they also wanted other people. And Ember didn’t know what Ace got up to on nights he slept at his own home, but she knew for certain that Zora did not consider them exclusive.
Either way, it was not something Ember wanted to involve herself any further in. She handed off her empty glass to Zora, said her goodbyes and told them to drive safe. Zora just pointed out the fact that Ember was the one that should be concerned about safety. 
On her way out the door, she heard Ace’s voice again. “Make them fall to their knees and don’t let them get back up.” 
*                                              *                                 *
The Palace was packed, making it rather easy for her to get to where she was going unnoticed. Once she’d spotted her target, she took up root on the opposite end of the room. He hadn’t gone off with some poor girl yet, but he did have a couple of the dancers crowded around him and his guard, who she’d learned was named Julius. 
She kept an eye on them for what felt like forever, swatting away men that approached her like flies and pretending to be just another paying customer until she found her cue.
Edmond Wallis was a butt ugly man. He was hairy for one—too damn hairy. And all the hair was an ugly shade of greying blonde. He was in his later forties, and exactly how she’d imagine a sex-trafficking psychopath to appear. His fingers were meat sticks as they gripped the ass of a dancer, who didn’t seem so pleased by his unwanted touch. His creepy 70’s mustache made Ember want to hurl up her dinner. The only place he lacked hair was on top of his head, where a bright, shining bald spot took up root. He was just… a repulsive little man and she would not feel guilty for one single second about what she was to do to him.
Eventually, a man dressed to the nines in an all-black three-piece suit leaned down and whispered into Edmond’s ear. He seemed to like whatever was said to him and then greedily hurled the women off of him to follow the man into a hallway at the back of the room.
That was Ember’s cue. 
Edmond would be taken to his room, where he would get comfortable just before Paul, the man in the suit, sent him his best dancer. They would do much more than just dancing, of course, and Edmond would pay up the ass for it. It was a weakness. And Ember was rightfully exploiting it.
She left her coat on a chair at the bar and walked as if she was just another worker, headed upstairs to the private rooms. And apart from a few curious glances, no one stopped her. She was dressed the part, and she knew damn well Paul didn’t pay enough attention to any of the women who worked for him. He probably didn’t know a single one of them by name.
She got to his door with way too much ease. It was the same room every Saturday night, and she knew because she’d watched him through the window he’d left open the previous weekend. She didn’t let a single detail of his little outings go to waste.
Turning the knob, she sucked in a breath, squared her shoulders and let herself in.
However, when her eyes adjusted to the light, she found one glaring exception to her plans.
A girl, much younger than Paul’s typical clientele, was tied up with rope on the bed. Edmond stood at the foot, in the middle of undoing his belt when Ember interrupted. The girl, who, upon further inspection, looked to be barely eighteen, was crying and huffing behind the gag in her mouth.
Ember froze at the sight, the sight in front of her causing her mind to short-circuit. She knew what this was, what she’d just walked in on. What she hadn’t accounted for.
“There’s been a mistake.” She finally spoke, and then smiled when Edmond furrowed his brows in frustration. “I’m to take over from here.”
He snorted. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m new.”
“Then perhaps you’re lost.” 
“You’re Mr. Wallis, correct?”
He scrutinized her and then she found her skin crawling when his eyes fell down the length of her. She much preferred Ace looking at her like that.
“I suppose I can just have you both, then.”
Ember wasn’t happy with that, but she couldn’t think of anything quickly enough that would not sound suspicious to get the other girl out of the room. She just hoped, when she locked eyes with the girl, that she understood Ember was not there to be had. And she would not let him have her, either.
Ember locked the door while Edmond removed his trousers. She knew she had to think fast and think smart. If she drew a weapon now, he’d yell and alert his guard. She had to get close.
So, she moved until she stood beside him, taking his attention off the girl as she slid the strap of her dress off her shoulder. She let his hands wander as he pulled her into him and then she pivoted, turning his back to the girl while his lips explored Ember’s neck and she tried not to vomit.
Over his shoulder, Ember made eye contact with the girl, and once she did, the girl went completely still. Ember smiled and then pulled her pistol, already equipped with a silencer, from the holster strapped around her covered thigh. In two quick motions, the barrel was pressed against Edmond’s temple and she was stepping away from him, her other hand clasped tightly over his mouth.
She looked into his eyes now, seeing the confusion leak into terror as he realized who he was staring at. The girl who was going to end his life. The girl who had ended the lives of all his colleagues. The girl he’d clearly underestimated if he was so carelessly under-guarded.
“Surprise.” She whispered just before she pulled the trigger. With one last swift motion, and a very loud thud, he was gone just like all the rest.
She eyed him for a few more moments, catching her breath from the adrenaline rush and then met the terrified, teary gaze of the girl on the bed. Ember tucked her gun away and rushed forward, “Time to go.”
The window had been her escape plan. She’d hidden a rope out on the balcony days in advance. She counted every minute it would have taken her to get out to make sure she went unnoticed. But…
But then there was the girl. A factor she did not consider when she was planning her escape. She would have been long gone by now if she were alone. If she were sticking to the plan. But there was no way she could leave the girl alone in that room. So, she cut the rope around her wrists and ankles with shaking hands, knowing she had little time. When the girl hesitated after being set free, Ember met the fearful, teary-eyed teenager.
“I can get you out, but we have to be quick,” Ember whispered. The girl glanced at the door, possibly trying to weigh her chances with the mysterious woman that had just murdered someone right in front of her. Ember grew desperate when she began to hear footsteps. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. But we have to go now.”
The girl looked up into Ember’s eyes again, and there must have been something she saw there because she placed her smaller, freezing hand into Ember’s and nodded her head.
Within seconds they were out on the balcony and Ember was checking to make sure her escape plan was still in place. Ten more seconds and the rope was tied to the edge and tossed over the side. She omitted the stashed gloves from her plan with ease, knowing she’d regret that decision later, but there just wasn’t any extra time to spare anymore. Luckily for the both of them, they were only three stories up. She didn’t feel all that lucky when she heard knocking on the door, though.
“Hold on to me.” Ember muttered through her teeth, gripping the rope with both hands as the girl clung to her neck for dear life. Ember flew over the side of the balcony just as the knocking on the door turned into pounding. 
When they got to the bottom, and Ember’s hand’s were burning and bloody, she grabbed the girl and flattened the both of them against the wall, hidden beneath the overhang of the second-story balcony. 
“Shh,” she pulled the girl close and held her hand over her mouth firmly to stifle the hysterics coming out of her. Ember peered out to keep an eye on the balcony they’d escaped from and within seconds, she heard the footsteps and watched as her rope disappeared back up to the third story. If she had run, she never would have made it far enough without being caught. Without being shot at. And considering she wasn’t alone, she hadn’t been willing to risk it. She just hoped they assumed she was long gone by now.
She waited quietly and the girl started to calm down after the initial shock of free falling down a raggedy rope settled. The man up above was speaking to someone over the phone it seemed, but Ember couldn’t make out a word of it. 
The wheels in her mind turned quickly, as they needed to. She needed a new plan. How to escape. Where to hide next. What in the hell she was going to do with the girl besides making sure she kept her promise.
When the voices faded, and after another half a second of listening just to be sure, Ember turned to the girl, whispering, “Can you run?”
The girl nodded. Her cheeks were hallowed and the fingers that folded in between Ember’s as she pulled her along behind her were bony and fragile now that Ember was paying attention. She wished she could turn back time and kill Edmond Wallis all over again. And then anyone else involved, beginning with Paul for his apparent role in arranging the whole thing. 
They ran along Ember’s escape route, keeping to the shadows of the alleyway and staying off the main road for as long as she could manage before she had no choice but to cross it. They didn’t make it that far, though, when a car burnt rubber as it entered the alley ahead of them. Ember’s legs jolted to a stop and the girl slammed into her shoulder. With a quick glance, she looked behind them and tried to find another way.
She pulled the girl in the opposite direction and soon realized it had been her first mistake of the night. One of the men in the car had emerged with a gun and managed to sink a bullet into the girl’s leg. She dragged Ember down the ground, wailing in pain on the rain-slicked asphalt. 
“You need to get up. Come on.” Ember took on most of the girls’ weight, pulling her back onto her feet. She knew they couldn’t outrun the car, but she’d be damned if she didn’t put up a fight. 
She twisted around, blocking the girl’s body with her own as she aimed her gun, taking out the man who’d shot at them with one single bullet to the head. Another man emerged and, just as quickly, he hit the ground as well. She pulled the girl closer and made to run as fast as she could.
But then there was a voice that echoed through the entire alleyway and sent chills down her spine.
“Ember.” 
And she paused. Another mistake. As if her first mistake hadn’t already broken her promise to the young girl. She was trying to focus on what was important, though, and that was getting them both out alive. She could deal with the guilt of getting the girl shot later.
She turned toward the voice, however. Her last mistake.
The girl was pulled from her grasp and when she realized what was happening, it was too late. Wallis’ guard, Julius, had snuck up behind them while she’d been distracted. 
While she let herself be distracted.
“Let her go!” Ember shouted, pointing her gun at Julius’ head even though he was using the girl as a shield.
Then the other voice sounded again, its familiarity haunting her as it drew closer this time. “You were Dominic’s pride and joy… and now look at you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the other man. He was tall, his voice deep and rough that aged him to his forties. But… unrecognizable. How did she know him—and how did he know Dominic?
She said nothing. Gave them nothing they could use against her. The man nodded toward the girl. “He didn’t teach you well enough, it seems. If you would have left the girl, we would have spared her life.” 
By the time the sound left Ember’s mouth, it was too late. Not even her echoing, desperate effort to protest could muffle the sound of the girl’s neck cracking just before her lifeless body thudded to the ground. Ember stared at her in shock, the whole rest of the world seeming to move in slow motion suddenly. Every one of her decisions over the past hour flashed before her eyes. Which one of those choices had led to this ending? Which uncalculated mistake had ended that girls’ life? Ember hadn’t even known her name. Would never know her name. 
Would have to live with the fact that she’d promised nothing would happen to the girl and fucked up more miserably than she ever had.
The worst of all of it was that the girl had probably spent most of her life shackled by men. How long had she been held captive? How long had she suffered, all to end up here. Dead in an alleyway before she even got a chance. 
And it was all Ember’s fault.
She fell to her knees, wrapping her hand around the girl’s bony one again. She didn’t care if she was about to be shot or strangled or killed. No one deserved to die this way. Alone and forgotten and nameless. Especially not after being given hope that Ember could get her out alive. 
The girl’s death had driven the knife in, and the stupid, foolish promise Ember failed to deliver had twisted it. She couldn’t even feel if her heart was beating anymore. Didn’t want it to beat because if anyone had to die tonight, it should have been her. 
Ember tightened her grip around her gun and lifted it, aiming right at Julius and not even thinking for a another second before she pulled the trigger as she stood back up on wobbly knees. His body joined the asphalt within seconds.
Then there was laughter and Ember pointed her gun at the unrecognizable man as tears flooded down her face. He just stood there, not at all afraid of her, and smiled. It could have been her shaking hands that made her a little less intimidating, though.
He took a step toward her. “Put the gun down, Ember.”
“So you can kill me?” Her voice shook with a million different overwhelming emotions.
“I have no need to,” his smile grew again as he pocketed his hands in his trousers, “the guilt will eat you alive soon enough.” 
He was right, she could already feel it. Not even killing Julius had settled the score. His hands might’ve done it, but he wasn’t the only one responsible. It didn’t help that whoever this man was, he hadn’t even tried to protect Julius. She might’ve just done his job for him.
She lowered her gun and fell back to the ground beside the girl, not caring what would happen to her next. 
Instead of hands grabbing her to haul her away like she’d expected, she heard footsteps as they retreated, then the whirring of an engine and the screeching of tires. She didn’t once look up. 
Ember knew the girl’s blood was on her, that she was soaked in it. That she was the reason the girl was laying amongst the trash and the sewage without a heartbeat. That she’d never even get a chance at freedom. That she’d never get older, never even turn twenty-one, never see a day in this world where someone wasn’t trying to harm her. And what good was Ember when she failed so horrifically at one simple promise.
*                                              *                                 *
Ember awoke to crashes and shouts, the familiar scents cluing her in and settling her nerves once she realized where she was. 
After the alley, she’d gone home. She’d thrown her clothes in the garbage and changed into an old grey hoodie and a ripped pair of jeans. The apartment was too quiet, and so… so fucking empty that all she did was fill every corner with her thoughts. 
She deserved to be strewn on the ground of some gritty alleyway.
She deserved to be cold and alone and without her heartbeat.
She wanted to tear her insides out so they’d stop keeping her alive. 
There was nothing she could do. She didn’t even know the girl’s name or where she came from. She couldn’t even give her a proper burial. Someone would take care of her body along with the others and she’d just… disappear forever. She didn’t deserve that life or that death. 
And once Ember could no longer stand to be inside her own head, she took herself to Tito’s.
The bar was rough, full of all the worst kinds of people in the city at this time of night, but she hadn’t cared. She just wanted liquor. All of it. The more it burned, the better. 
And then she’d passed out. 
“Hey,” a hand gripped her shoulder and shook. 
Her reflexes were still somewhat intact and she swung a fist toward the voice but another hand gripped her wrist before her knuckles made contact.
“Woah, I’m just trying to help, Em.”
“I don’t need any help.” Her words didn’t come out as polished as she’d hoped, nor did it register that this was someone she knew if he’d used her nickname.
“Yeah, it sure sounds like it.” He released her and she flung back down onto the bar. She heard a grunt and then footsteps. His voice sounded familiar once she finally thought about it and after a few moments, she realized why as he slammed a glass of water down in front of her from the other side of the counter.
“Sit up and drink this.” He demanded and she wasn’t sure why, but she did what he said. He hadn’t been the one to serve her all night, but she knew him. She’d been to Tito’s before on other hopeless nights and he’d called her a cab once or twice. There must’ve been a shift change while she was out cold.
“I imagine it was real bad if you were passed out before I even clocked in.” He ran a wet rag along the top of the bar where she’d been drooling the past hour as Ember downed the glass of water in one go.
“Just getting an early start.” She grinned at him. Nick was somewhere around her age, and definitely a sight for sore eyes. And she imagined hers were quite sore, if the grimace he made when he looked into them meant anything. 
“You’re either having a terrible allergic reaction, or you’ve been crying for hours.” 
Her smile faltered. “M’not allergic to anything.”
His concern only worsened. “What happened?”
She just shook her head and handed him back the glass. “Just give me another one of these and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“At least let me call you a cab.” He took the glass and refilled it.
She didn’t argue, mostly because she knew she wouldn’t make it home on her feet, nor was she even sure she had a phone on her to call herself her own cab.
She finished off her second round of water and then dropped her head onto the pillow of her crossed arms, closing her eyes as she mumbled, “Let me know when it gets here.” 
*                                              *                                 *
Harry’s neck ached and his back was begging him to find a better position. He almost thought about breaking through the doors and getting the job done and over with if he had to sit, hunched over his steering wheel for much longer.
He’d followed her from her apartment, where he’d waited equally as long for her to come home. He’d watched her from the building across the street as she changed her clothes right in front of her floor length windows, averting his eyes until she was decent again and stuffing weapons into her usual hiding places. Then he watched as she threw her dress and fishnets in the garbage, growing slightly more interested in what the hell she was doing. 
And lastly, he watched as she stood in the middle of the living room and stared at a wall for what felt like an eternity. He had no idea where she’d just come from, but whatever it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.  
Of course, then there was Tito’s, which he’d cursed at her for. He wasn’t sure why he cared that she was walking herself into one of the worst bars in southeast Kypa, but something inside of him wanted to waltz in behind her and steer her back to the safety of her building.
Perhaps it was the fact that he’d let her see him last night and he was still wondering if she’d felt what he had when their eyes finally met. She’d never once spotted him in the past few days he’d been trailing her, but last night, he… he had no fucking idea what he’d been thinking. 
He straightened and gripped the steering wheel as a cab pulled up in front of the bar. Moments later, she was being hauled into the back seat by the bartender, a rather bulky dude even Harry himself wouldn’t mess with. Harry kept his eyes forward, even as he reached for his gearshift and switched his car into drive. It was late, and he wouldn’t be as inconspicuous with less cars on the road, but if she was as drunk as she looked, he was sure she wouldn’t notice anyway.
Not that she hadn’t already seen his face and was possibly already paranoid about him following her.
He cleared his head and kept a safe distance behind the cab, memorizing the identification numbers printed on the bumper just in case he lost track of it. But that proved to be a waste of brainpower when the cab pulled off to the side of the road up ahead of him, pass the red light he was stuck at, and she came fumbling out of the back seat and onto the curb. He glanced up at the street sign and around at the buildings surrounding them, wondering if he’d been so engulfed in following the cab that he hadn’t realized she’d already gotten home. But, when he saw they were still many blocks away from her building, and she didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was incapacitated and alone on an empty, poorly lit street, approaching a group of men, his heart began to race. 
When the light turned green, he took off, finding a side street close by to back his car into a parking spot. He flipped off his lights and then the engine and waited. It went against his every instinct to just sit and watch as she walked herself into trouble, but… he wasn’t exactly here to save her life. In fact… if it was trouble she was seeking, she should have crossed the street and met up with him instead.
His heart still pounded in his chest and he fought against every muscle that begged him to leap from his car and race across the street to save her.
She could handle herself and he knew that. It settled his nerves. He knew each and every weapon she had on her body, and where exactly the knives and guns were located. She was just blowing off steam. Possibly looking to start a fight with people who might actually be a match for her. 
Even so, he couldn’t help but worry about her safety.
Which was… ridiculous. He knew that.
But, then again, she stared blankly at a wall for entire twenty-five minutes, so he had no idea what she was about to do. 
His hands tightened around the steering wheel. Why couldn’t she just have gone home?
*                                              *                                 *
Ember slowed to a stop at the entrance of the alley just as the three men noticed her. Then she smiled as they took the bait, approaching her like she was the sad little bunny that had just stepped into their trap.
The man who walked slightly ahead of the other two eyed her up and down. “You lost, pretty girl?”
Her smile widened. “Nope.”
His brow flickered and he crossed his arms. “You reek of whiskey and…” he leaned in a bit closer and sniffed, “death.”
“And you reek of another man’s cock. Is that what the three of you were doing before I got here? Having a little circle jerk in the corner over there?” She nodded toward the trashcan the men had been huddled beside moments ago.
The man up front gritted his teeth. “Oh, she’s got a mouth, huh?”
“Least I don’t use mine to suck off my friends in an alley at two in the morning.” She was glad it didn’t take much more than that. He came at her and her fingers twitched to deflect the blow she’d rightfully earned, but she didn’t allow herself to block or fight back. He punched her square in the face, leaving a nasty cut on her cheekbone. And when she stumbled toward him again, still very much drunk, she laughed.
“What wimpy little muscles you have, barely even left a dent.” 
He cocked a brow and the corners of his lips kicked up in a smirk, “Would you like to find out what else I can do?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a dick for you to suck.” She laughed again and that was most definitely the wrong thing to say, because he was on her this time. All three of them were. They shoved her against the brick wall and she could practically hear her spine yelling out in pain. She ignored it though, just as she ignored the pain of her head being beaten against the wall, the punches to her face, the jabs to her abdomen, the kicks to her shins. It was easy to ignore when she was numb. When she wanted this. Wanted to be beaten to nothing but a sad lifeless form.
The back of her head collided against the brick once more and it was hard enough this time to cause her vision to blur. She smiled as she began to lose consciousness, hoping it would just end soon. That was all she wanted. 
Then there were no longer any hands on her, no fists rearranging her facial features, and she was falling to the ground quickly. There was a shout and then a snap, grunting and then a thud. Footsteps and a muffled, “Shit,” in a deep, wary voice. Then it was quiet. An unfamiliar scent filled her nostrils and brought her back for just a moment. Just long enough to blink her eyes open underneath inflamed skin and catch a glimpse of emerald green before she was surrounded by darkness again.
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harryedwardstylesfics · 4 hours ago
do you have some smut with harry using toys on the reader?
hey, here’s a few for you xx 💜
@hxarrysbabe - here
@strawnarrries - here
@trulymadlysydney - here
@smokeinherperfume - here
@bfharry - here
@hxrrysrings - here
@floralsatin - here
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harryedwardstylesfics · 6 hours ago
jealous harry smut pls
hey! I have two lists here that consist of jealous smut xx
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glimmerry · 7 hours ago
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okay picture this:
you are emma corrin’s girlfriend, you visit her on the set of the policeman, you meet harry, you harry and emma have a threesome, you guys spend a lot of time together, you three become a throuple boom perfect life.
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harryedwardstylesfics · 8 hours ago
do you know any pure smut with no plot from harry’s pov? sorry lol
hey! I really struggle to find fics from Harry’s POV, but I’ll keep looking - yet, here’s some fics that are pure smut with no plot
@harrywritingsbyme - here
@serendipitystyles - here
@honey--fics - here
@cowboy-like-mee - here
@meetmeinfleetwood - here
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havin-a-wee · 18 hours ago
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here is all of my writings that i have published on this account!
requests/questions/chat with me
my fic rec account
all time favorite fics
PLEASE REBLOG MY STORIES IF YOU ENJOY THEM!!
Smut - ✮
Fluff - ❁
Angst - ✧
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Lights, Camera, Action!: a series of blurbs and one-shots about actress!Y/N and Harry
❁ Every Little Thing: Y/N is feeling insecure after her pregnancy. 948 words
more coming soon
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❁✧ A Lifetime Of You: Being in love can be hard, especially when you're in love with your best friend. Who is engaged to someone else. 5.1k words
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✮ Doctors Orders: Y/N has her first appointment with her new gynecologist, Dr. Styles. 2.3k words
✮ Soaked: "can you make a frat boy harry x reader where the boys were at hazs stepdads house (yeah they are famous too) and youve been hazs gf for a while and you and harry went out to skinny dip around midnight while the boys were watching a movie and then like a um scene where the girl would get eaten and stuff please??" 1.4k words
✮ Tiger Tattoo: "There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about riding Harry's thigh at least once 😭 could you write about something like that or do you know any fics where that happens cuz damn boyyyy" 756 words
✮ Dreamer: Y/N starts grinding on Harry in his sleep. 1.7k words
✮ Positions: "pretty please do an imagine where you are best friends with Harry and you are REALLY horny and are cuddling with him and you get wet n stuff through your panties and he notices and offers to help?" 2.5k words
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seulbby · 19 hours ago
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my names emmy! and i like to write (sometimes). my asks and messages are always open if you want request something or just to talk!
i write for any marvel characters besides clint, and any character on tvd, and anyone else just ask!
masterlist
my spotify
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timotheechlamett · 21 hours ago
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CONTAINS: graphic smut, polygamy, and fluff.
_______________________________________________
MÉNAGE À TROIS
He turned twenty-five today. It took me months to get reservations at his favorite restaurant, inviting all who was important to him. We got the best wine, his favorite dish, and I got a special cake made for him. I made sure he was especially catered to tonight and it was a great success.
“Thank you for tonight, it was perfect." He places both hands on each side of my face, kissing the top of my forehead.
"I had to pull out all the stops for you." I smile up at him, "Are you ready to go?"
He simply nods grabbing my hand as we say our 'goodbyes' then he leads me to the car, opening my door for me to get in. We were about to walk into our condo when he turned to me.
"So I was thinking since it's my birthday-" He starts, "I wanted to do something really special, special for the both of us."
"And what is that?" I look at him inquisitively, unlocking the door and walking inside.
He helps remove my jacket as well as his own, hanging them both up before standing in front of me. He peppers kisses all over my neck, down to my collar bone.
"Go in the bedroom, put on your best lingerie, and you'll find out once you're done." He mumbles onto my skin.
I grin nodding at his statement, making my way to the bedroom doing as he asks. I put on a blue lingerie set, Timmy's favorite color, and freshened myself up in the bathroom before putting my robe on and making my way back to the living room.
To my surprise none other than Harry Styles sat on our couch.Confusion strikes as I try to cover myself a little more, surprised to have a guest here.
Him and Timothée each with a drink in their hands, laughing with each other - A glass set on the coffee table for me.
"Harry? What a pleasant surprise, I wasn't expecting you!" I take my seat next to Timothée sending him a confused look, sipping the clear liquid, wincing slightly at the burn.
"Aren't the best surprises unexpected?" He flashes a toothy grin at me, I return the notion.
"I invited Harry over to, y’know, help us out." Timothée states looking me up and down.
"Uh- With what exactly?" I look at them both equally confused.
"With our something special, mon amour." Timothée says lowly, leaning into me. Harry takes a drink from his glass eyeing us both hungrily.
"For my birthday, I want you to let us make you feel good, let us both love you." He runs his hand up my thigh.
"But only if you're comfortable with it, love." Harry chimes in, "I wouldn't want to make you feel pressured." 
I nod my head slowly trying to take everything in. It was almost shocking Timothée would want to let another man look at me, let alone touch me. Or in this case, fuck me, considering how possessive he is.
I bite my lip looking between them, before gulping down my drink, pouring another one from the cocktail shaker. 
"Only because it's your birthday-" I say quietly as I pour my next drink, "Let's do it." 
A blatant lie on my part, nobody in their right mind would turn down such an opportunity. 
"Really?" They both say in unison excitedly.
"Really, really." I giggle at their childish looks to one another, "I trust you."
After I consume just the right amount of alcohol, Timothée stands and Harry follows his lead, my nerves building up in my stomach as they wait for me to rise from the couch.
I down the last sip of my drink once again, standing up letting myself be led to the back hallway.
Timothée in front ushering me to the bedroom, Harry following behind me. He sits me on the bed taking a seat next to me, Harry sat on the other side.
"Are you sure?" Timothée moves the hair from my nape, pressing a kiss to my neck.
“As sure as ever.” I nod my head confirming my decision, he pulls away from me looking my in the eyes.
"Kiss him." He whispers out demandingly.
I hesitate looking Harry in the eyes, the expression he wears bringing me comfort.
This is what Timmy wants, I can't let him down. 
I lean in slowly, pressing my lips against Harry's as he brings a hand to my hair. Timothée brings his mouth back to my neck, as Harry licks my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I grant swiftly.
As I indulge in the flavor of Harry's mouth, Timothée begins pulling my robe off of my body, leaving me only in my undergarments.
A wave of self-consciousness flows over me and I slightly pull away from them both - blushing like crazy. Obvious to them both I had become uncomfortable with myself.
"Mon amour, you're beautiful." Timothée turns my head so I'm looking at him.
"Breathtaking, actually." Harry chimes in pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder.
"See? There's no reason to hide from us, let us make you feel good baby." They resume engulfing my body in soft kisses. Timothée focused on my mouth now as Harry kisses down my neck, gently biting and sucking.
A moan escapes my lips making them both smile against me, I turn to Harry gripping the back of his head, immediately slipping my tongue into his mouth once again. 
Timothée begins removing his shirt, Harry following his actions, before bringing his mouth to suck on the top of my covered breast, Timothée unclasping my bra letting it fall.
Harry wraps his mouth around my fully erect nipple opposite to Timmy, I let my head fall back enjoying the sensation.
The boys share a look before I feel Timothée pull me as he rests back on the headboard. Harry between my legs and i between Timothée’s with my knees up, Harry slowly removes my thong.
I wa sure Timothée could feel my heart beating out of my chest, but he didn’t act it.
Once my panties are completely discarded Harry questions me one more time for consent, all I can do is nod my head, unable to form a sentence.
As his tongue delves into my already soaking folds, I can’t help but to get caught in the moment.
Two beautiful boys, taking me in a way I had never imagined.
A high pitched moan escapes my lips as Harry devours me whole, meanwhile Timothée plays with my nipples to add to the sensation.
“That’s my good girl, say his name.” Timmy demands.
“H-Harry, fuck that feels so good.” I whimper out, regarding the second part to both of them.
Harry flicks his tongue back and fourth, in and out of my wet core, bringing a finger up to my opening and slowly and easily sliding it inside.
He adds a second hooking then upwards into my sensitive cavity, I can’t help but moan out, throwing my head back.
I bring a hand up to stroke Timothée’s growing erection through his pants, “Don’t stop, god don’t stop.” I breathe out winding a hand through Harry’s hair desperate to bring him closer.
His tongue flicking recklessly against my clit drives me to the brink of orgasm, my legs shake harshly before he pulls his mouth away, looking me directly in the eyes.
They remove the rest of their clothing, both of them fully erect and very close in size, Timothée being a little bigger.
Harry puts me on my knees in the doggy-style position, bringing his fingers to my mouth to get wet then bringing the same fingers to rub my pussy.
He glides the head of his length over my slit before slowly pushing inside of me, I open my mouth to gasp only to be cut off by Timothée shoving his dick down my throat. I slightly gag, followed by a moan from Harry thrusting into me slowly.
Timothée throws his head back engulfing himself inside my mouth and throat, Harry panting relentlessly behind me as I grip him between my legs.
“Fuck you feel so good love.” Harry pants.
“You take this dick so well baby.” Timothée moans gripping my hair, forcing me further down on his shaft.
“Oh my god this feels so good.” I drag out.
Already I feel the pit in my stomach grow as I’m being fucked deeply by Harry, while also choking in Timmy’s manhood.
My moans loud and all over the place, Harry unable to contain the tone of his yelling moans, Timothée staring at the state of me as he whimpers uncontrollably.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, oh my god.” Timothée moans before pulling out of my mouth, Harry does the same as they switch positions.
Timothée lines himself up with my opening as I wrap a hand around the base Harry’s throbbing cock, jerking up and down gently.
Timothée enters me, I make sure my mouth is already around Harry as I moan from the penetration.
Timothée grabs my hair pulling my head back slightly, allowing me to take Harry in my mouth a little further.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” Timothée moans.
“I can hear how wet you are for us.” Harry grunts, running a hand under my jaw to get me to open my mouth more.
All I can do is moan out, just nearly screaming if my mouth wasn’t wrapped around Harry. The pit in my stomach growing more than the last time as I clench my eyes shut.
All of our moans mix together as the peak of our experience reaches us. I roll my eyes back gagging on Harry and Timothée gripping my ass so hard as his cock twitches about inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Harry yells as his dick pulses against my tongue filling my throat with his hot cum.
I swallow happily as I feel myself reaching climax, while Timothée brings a hand up around my neck choking me.
He hunches over getting close to my ear, fucking me hard and fast.
“You’re such a good girl, my good fucking girl. So perfect.” He moans out as he fills my pussy to the brim with his seed.
At his words I let myself release, my juices spattering across the sheets and all over Timmy.
We all fall back into the mattress, desperately trying to catch our breath, entangled in one another.
“Thank you mon amour, this was so perfect. The best birthday of my life.” Timmy pants out stroking my hair.
“We’ll have to do this again sometime yeah? My birthday’s next.” Harry chuckles out breathlessly.
“As long as I get to feel this good, we can do this regularly.” I giggle.
“Only the best for my beautiful boys.” I say drifting into a peaceful slumber.
I fucked Timothée Chalamet and Harry Styles at the same time.
Damn.
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goldencherryhazz · 23 hours ago
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PDA
A/n: this is the second fix in two days what is happening?! This is purely based on this pic, and no I don’t think I will ever get over it. Pls don’t copy my work, notes would be much appreciated!!
Boyfriend!harry x reader
She’s small but very fluffy!
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(Just look him 🥰)
You and Harry had always been a pda- ey couple, just wanting to love on each other all the time when you were in each other’s presence, showing the people around you who the other belonged to, it wasn’t possible to not be touching the other wether it was one of Harry hands on your thigh when out for a meal or one of your hands slipping into the back pocket of his jeans when you were walking. That was only the subtle things you did in public and around your twos friends. Sometimes you were full on kissing nearly turning into full on makeout sessions but someone, usually Mitch when you were with him, would be making throwing up noises or saying ‘get a room you two’. It got even worse when you were at a bar or a nightclub, Harrys possessive side would come out when random men would stare at you, his girl. So he would have you sit sideways his lap which you gladly did always feeling safe in his arms, he would whisper sweet nothings into your ear leaving sweet kisses on your neck whilst staring the guy or multiple men who were ogling you, making him chuckle into your skin when they would look the other way awkwardly some even moving seats after being under Harry’s intimidating gaze.
And tonight was no different, the public displays of affection didn’t falter, you and Harry had been invited to Sarah and Mitch’s house for a film and wine night night, popcorn probably being included aswell. Sarah had also surprised you all with matching white dressing gowns having seen them in a sale, so she couldn’t resist and thought they would be perfect for watching films in.
So there you all were barely watching the film that was playing on the tv, it merely just a noise in the background whilst you all were all in deep conversation, you Mitch and Harry sat on the l-shaped sofa and Sarah was sat on the armchair opposite. You were sandwiched between Harry and Mitch, Harry’s hand on your thigh as usual, giving it a squeeze through the soft white fabric of the dressing gown every so often.
‘So H are you going to put ‘medicine’ on the next album’ mitch had asked for the the billionth time that week.
‘I have said it before and I will say it again, I don’t know’ Harry responded.
‘Why don’t you know’ Sarah piped up, picking up another piece of popcorn from the bowl that was resting on her very prominent bump, you and Harry were jumping for joy when they had announced that they were going to have a baby, your pretty sure Mitch still was still in shock but you knew both him and Sarah would be the best parents.
‘It sounds killer when we perform it live so it would sound even more amazing as a studio version’
‘But people have heard it all before and I want there to be all new material in the next album’ he responds tiredly
‘They haven’t heard a studio version of it though, so it technically would be new’ Mitch points out.
‘Oh Mitch will you give it a rest’ Harry says squeezing your thighs a little too hard making him loosen his grip and smooth his hand over the area as if to say sorry.
‘No absolutely not’ you laugh at their heated discussion but at the same time you felt a bit awkward being in the middle of it so you kinda wanted to crawl onto the armchair with Sarah.
‘Harry you might as well give up now’ Sarah chimes
‘Right I will think about it, okay’ Harry settles the argument not wanting to be pestering by the same question over and over again.
‘Hallelujah’ Mitch says bringing his drink to his lips taking a large swig
‘Thank fuck for that’ Harry mutters under his breath reaching for his drink, but still loud enough for everyone else to hear making the room erupt in laughter.
You eventually get up in need of the toilet, Harry reluctantly lets go of your thigh, he had become slightly tipsy and a little sleepy over the course of the past half an hour. You remember once when you were at a bar with the whole band after a concert, he was like this and when you needed to go for a pee he wouldn’t let you do from his grip not wanting to be on his own even though all of his friends were surrounding him, he even tried to follow you to the restroom making you laugh at how cute he was being, luckily this time he stayed put.
When you come back you stand in the doorway of the living, still being out of view you admire the sight of your boyfriend, he was now laid down against the cushions a hand fiddling with his curls, there wasn’t a crease between his eyebrows like before, his face now looked peaceful. He was clad in his black jeans which looked quite silly compared to the fluffy dressing gown, but he looked so soft and cuddly. You notice that Mitch has gotten considerably closer to Harry as they were having their own quiet conversation, his beer still in hand, meaning that had and excuse to cuddle up with Harry not that you really needed one anyway.
Sarah was now completely immersed watching the film, not noticing you as you reappear into the room, Harry looking up from his conversation smiling at you, his face morphing into a smirk when your knees hit the sofa and you start crawling up the tight gap on his right, before placing your head down on his broad shoulder hand on his chest then snuggling your warm body into his. He immediately places his arm around your shoulder bringing you even closer to him then pressing a chaste kiss to you lips before pressing one into your hair. No words are exchanged between all of this your acts of affection speaking louder than words.
You spend the rest of the night in this position, chipping into conversations from time to time, getting sleepier as the night went on, the dressing gowns were definitely a good idea Harry thought, they made snuggling so much more toasty, he also couldn’t stop looking down at you with a massive grin you looked soo dreamy and peaceful Sarah even secretly snaps a quick photo of you two one of the many times he does this, finding the interaction truly adorable and posting it on Instagram which you would find out in the morning. Even Mitch found it quite cute, and that was saying something, but he of course didn’t say anything because he was the one that always took the mick out of you two when you were like this, so he decides to stay quiet and go and cuddle with Sarah instead wanting to keep the calm atmosphere of the room.
You realise that your happy place was right in Harry arms and at this moment in time you never wanted to move out of his grip, he suddenly moves to place another kiss to your lips ‘love cuddling you like this baby’
‘Hmm I love cuddling you too’ you smile at him as he rests his chin on top of your head sighing happily, wrapping his arms even tighter around you like he never wanted to let go.
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stylescanbeatmyback · a day ago
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happy to say the first two chapters of
‘perfect for you - harry styles’ are out now!!
it is a harry styles x male oc and it’s on my wattpad
@justletmeadoreya
or click the link in my bio to be taken there, i’d appreciate reblogs on this and if you want, you can go read the book:)
love you all:)))
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