#harry styles x mc
Text
so high.
cw: degradation, size kink, praising, hair pulling, mention of drugs (weed.), and sexual content.
pairing: drug dealrry/baldrry x mc.
The cold night held thick air, still in the darkness as Jules drove one handed down the road. A blunt between her lips, she knew this would be the last of her stash until she went to see her dealer. The thing about her dealer, though, was that he was consistently fucking busy. It was always so hard to get a hold of him, so she either had to buy in large amounts or she had to start texting him at least a week before she was going to run out.
The schedule worked out perfectly this time around, just as she was running out of weed, he had texted her to come through to reup. So Jules did just that, smoking the last of what she had while on the way to his house. The soft acoustic tunes trilled through the stereo, humming along to a song she just found online not many days ago. She didn’t know the words, but she liked it.
Her pointer finger and thumb pinched the skin of the blunt, taking the last puff and inhaling deeply into her lungs. Jules held it as long as she could before she started to cough up a lung. Smoke bellowed from her nose as she rolled the window down and threw the butt out with ease.
Ahead, there was the house she grew familiar with. The front porch lit up to welcome her, she pulled into the driveway and threw the car into park. When Jules stepped out of the car, a cloud followed after her. She couldn’t help but to chuckle, knowing the entire neighborhood was going to know what she was doing prior.
On the front porch, she knocked and waited. After a few moments, she contemplated pulling her phone out to text him. It was bitterly cold and the sweater she wore was not giving her enough warmth.
“One sec!” He shouted from the other side of the door.
Jules pushed herself off of the wall, crossing her arms over her cold chest. When the door opened, she locked eyes with her dealer, Harry.
“It’s about time,” She joked lightly as he moved to the side to let her in, “It’s cold outside.”
“Sorry ‘bout that, doll,” Harry sighed, closing the door behind her, “I was smoking in the other room.”
Despite knowing that, there was still a thick haze at the top of the ceiling. Jules chuckled, shaking her head. She sat down on the couch, letting out a relaxed sigh. Harry rounded the coffee table, kneeling down in front of her; Harry was styling a bald look with bright blonde hair, a loose black sweater on with black pants. A cross earring dangled from his right ear to match the same necklace around his neck.
“That’s alright,” Jules hummed, “How have you been?”
“Been fine,” Harry mumbled, taking a bag of weed from underneath the table and setting it onto the glass top, “How much are you wanting this time?”
“With the way you reply, let’s say a quarter this time.” She smirked softly.
Harry bit down on his tongue as his lips quirked upwards into a smoke, “Cheeky.”
Harry and Jules weren’t strangers, they were actually really good friends. When she started to smoke in high school, Harry was the only one that she knew to get from. He was the dealer of the school, but of course that was very hush hush. She’d remembered when she first smoked with him on top of a bridge, overseeing a busy road.
Truthfully, Jules had always found Harry a bit attractive. There was an instance in high school where her pick me friend had basically outed her feelings for Harry. At that time, Harry was in a relationship with one of the popular girls; which was funny because historically, Harry couldn’t fucking stand any of the popular girls.
But, lord, did he fucking love Naomi.
So, in truth, Jules never really dated anyone because she had always had eyes for Harry. Sure, she had eyes on a few people throughout the years, she was an adult now and she didn’t want to get caught up on an old crush from some years ago. Jules had dated multiple men throughout the years that never truly satisfied her needs, plus they weren’t really down with her constantly smoking weed.
It wasn’t that weed was a crutch, it definitely wasn’t. Jules used it for her anxiety and depression. A lot of people didn’t understand that.
But Harry understood that.
“Did you want to smoke before you go?” Harry threw a baggy towards her, “That’s gonna be sixty, by the way.”
Jules pulled her wallet from her purse, shuffling through her bills before placing the exact amount onto the table and taking the plastic bag.
“I just smoked, but I wouldn’t say no,” Jules broke into a smile, putting the weed into her tote bag.
“You’re just so greedy, aren’t you, Jules?” Harry teased her as he plucked a wrap from one of the packages, “How’s work been?”
“It’s been fine, really,” Jules let her cheek rest on her hand as she watched Harry clear the cigar of its tobacco, “And I guess business is going fine with you?”
Harry hummed, nodding to her. His thumbs brushed against the wrap to flatten it, sticking his tongue out to lap up the inside of it. Jules’ lips parted, her tongue sticking out to swipe her bottom lip. Entranced by the small action, her cheeks heated up. She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat.
“It’s been fine, yeah,” Harry finally said, swallowing the peach flavor of the wrap, “Sorry I’ve been too busy to get with you. Maybe we can plan something soon, y’know?”
“I’m down for whatever,” Jules shrugged.
Harry sprinkled the weed into the wrap, then proceeded to roll it carefully. While he rolled it up, his lips worked onto the wrap, his tongue poking out to lap the wrap up to keep it firm. This had reminded her of the time that she smoked with him on that bridge, watching him work on the blunt; it was such a simple action, but the fire still sparked inside of her.
It was something about not being able to have something that she desperately always wanted. Maybe her crush from the past was starting to spark inside of her again, or maybe it was the thought of his head between her legs that made her want him. If his tongue could work wonders on the blunt, commanding it to stick delicately together just for him to burn it later, then she’d wondered what kind of trouble they could’ve gotten into together.
“Here,” Harry said as he pinched his lips with his pointer finger and thumb, handing the blunt, “You can spark it. I’m gonna get a couple of drinks. Do you want anything?”
“Erm, water?” Jules placed the blunt between her lips.
“Can do.”
She dug through her pocket for her lighter, then flicked the flame alive to light the blunt. From the earlier blunt, her throat was dry and she was desperate for something to coat her throat. She coughed lightly into her fist, staring down at the perfect pearl of the blunt. When Harry came back with a couple bottles of water, he placed it down on the table in front of her and sat undeniably close to her.
“Can I have that, please?” Harry’s two fingers wiggled towards the blunt.
“Mm, yes.” She handed the blunt to him.
Leaning forward, she grabbed the bottle of water and twisted the top off. The coolness of the water hydrated her and brought her back to life. She drank almost half of the bottle before sitting it down on the table and turning her gaze back to Harry.
Harry’s head was tilted back against the couch, eyelashes long and fluttering until his eyes closed. His cherry lips wrapped around the blunt, cheeks hollowing as the blunt burned bright red from his inhale. The smoke entered Harry’s lungs, and Jules was entranced as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he pulled the blunt from his lips.
She almost blushed, she couldn’t stop staring at him. Harry still held the blunt, bringing his hand down to his thigh as his leg bounced from keeping the smoke inside his lungs. A breath of release and a large cloud flooded the area. The edge of his jaw could cut, perfectly slim and simple as his mouth stayed wide open to let out the smoke.
When Harry turned towards her to pass the blunt, he caught her staring. Jules quickly turned her head, looking ahead towards the TV that she could barely hear; the volume was down low. Jules hated that, she wished that it wasn’t so quiet, if Harry stopped for a moment, he could probably hear the way her heart picked up when he caught her staring.
“Here,” Harry brushed her thigh with his hand, sending a soft wink, “Take it.”
When Jules felt his fingers brush her thigh, it was undeniable that her body reacted temperature wise. Sure, smoking could make someone much warmer, but she felt fucking hot in this sweater. Obviously, it was due to him, but she would never say that out loud.
“Have you ever shotgunned before?” Harry said through his sip of water, his voice was lazier from the intoxication of the weed; each word dripped and oozed slowly from his lips.
“Yeah,” She snorted nervously, “I have.”
When she took another hit, she looked towards him and blew the smoke out. The silence was deafening and she wished there was some sort of noise to distract her from the way his eyes burned into her. Her gaze went to the blunt.
“Do you want to shotgun?” Jules hesitantly asked, her voice shaking under the thought of potentially getting that close to Harry.
Harry chuckled quietly, removing the blunt from her fingers, his cherry lips wrapped tightly around the end of the blunt as he sucked in a loud cloud of thick smoke. When the wrap left his lips, a small cloud of smoke escaped past his lips, but nonetheless, he still held the remnants in his lungs. His fingers curled towards her, motioning her to move closer.
Jules didn’t have much time to think, the longer he held the smoke in his lungs, he would surely choke on it and have a coughing fit. Her body scooted towards him, to which his arm snaked around her shoulder; she felt his fingers caress the back of her neck as he leaned in. His tobacco vanilla scent infiltrated her nose, causing her cheeks to warm and her head to become dizzy at how intoxicatingly delicious he had smelled.
When Jules locked eyes with Harry, she studied the way his eyes were different shades of red, she could barely make out the dark green in his eyes. He was heavily intoxicated by the weed, but so was she, and she couldn’t rip her gaze from his eyes. He blinked once, moving in dangerously closer, while his fingers pinched the back of her neck.
She parted her lips just as Harry nodded upwards to her, his Adam’s apple bobbing from still holding in the thick smoke. What seemed like a lifetime, only lasted seconds. The shadows casting over her were due to Harry’s face being mere inches away from her lips, if she had moved her lips just the slightest, they could’ve locked with his.
Harry’s nose nudged with hers, then settled on one side of her face as his lips parted and circled into a pretty ‘O’, then slowly, surely, blew the smoke into her mouth. Jules inhaled as much as she could, feeling the burning sensation down her throat until it started to strain her lungs. Eyes fluttered closed for mere seconds, and when she opened them, the overcast of Harry had departed; no longer being clouded by the cologne of his. Still, she blew out a nervous breath as the ghostly smoke barely spilled from her lips.
“Shit,” She coughed lightly into her hand, leaning towards her water bottle for coating.
“I’ve always loved shotguns,” Harry told her with his lips quirked upwards into a smirk. He shamelessly liked making Jules flushed and nervous; she was a shy girl anyway, and sometimes he wondered just how shy she could be. Or if it was a cute girl facade. Regardless, he enjoyed the way she avoided eye contact after their mere contact, “Alright?” He chuckled quietly.
“Me?” Jules still tried to remedy the burning sensation in her throat, but she feared this was no real way to remedy the other burning sensation that rested between her thighs.
“Who else would I be talking to, Jules?” He tilted his head, resting his hand on top of the small hairs of his head, brushing his fingers over the buzzcut of his, “A ghost?”
“You’re high enough,” She joked, giggling as she sat her bottle on the table, “I wouldn’t put it past you to see some shit.”
While Harry wasn’t hallucinating, he had to take a second glance at the way her thighs were clenched tightly together and her gaze was forced to the TV with a flustered smile. Harry enjoyed watching the impact he had on others, even if it meant it being his best friend. Truthfully, it crossed his mind a couple of times what Jules would look like underneath him. She was peachy cute, quiet, and chill. Just like he was.
If Harry were to hook up with anyone, it would be with her. He was sure they would click so easily together.
“What’re you staring at?” Jules finally broke the silence, catching his lustful stare that hid behind the glossy look in his eyes.
“What do you think I’m staring at?” Harry mumbled, lips taught upwards with a smirk as he placed the half smoken blunt into the ashtray, “Here’s a hint, it’s not a ghost.”
She pushed her lips to the side, trying to ignore the bubbling in her stomach. Jules knew that answer to that question, but she didn’t want to get ahead of herself. She didn’t know if it was the weed, or if the tension had just appeared, thick in the air.
“I don’t…” Her voice trailed off, mousey and quiet.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”
The words floated in the air, not giving her enough time to react to the compliment, or to the sudden fact that she was getting hit on by one of her good friends. Her drug dealer. Someone she had a crush on for a long fucking time. The air around them became thicker when another body brushed up against hers, glancing out of the corner of her eye, Harry had moved closer to her.
Silence filled the air. She dared not to fully look, if she wanted to bite down on the goofy smile on her face and hide it away from him, she shouldn’t look over. She wouldn’t. She won’t. But Harry’s stare was burning into the side of her face and it made her want to sink into the couch and never come back up.
“So shy all of a sudden?” Harry’s breath hit her ear and her breath hitched. His cherry lips parted softly, using the pads of his fingers to brush against the jawline of hers. When she didn’t turn her head to look at him, he wondered if he had mistaken the tension; if he was just high, or did she really want him like he wanted her in that moment?
“Is this okay?” Harry asked quietly, bushy brows furrowing in deep concern of the blurred lines.
That made Jules turn her head. She couldn’t tell if Harry was joking or not, if he was just trying to test their friendship, or if he really wanted her like she did. Jules parted her lips softly, her tongue swiping across the dryness of her lips as she locked into his dark gaze. She only gave him a small nod.
“Words, darlin’,” He cupped the underside of her jaw, tapping her lips lightly with his thumb, “Let me hear those words.”
Jules swallowed thick, trying to keep her eyes from closing just from the smallest touch; yet it sparked her skin and set her alight in ways she hadn’t felt in so long.
“Mhm, yes,” She whispered soft as a feather.
Harry licked over his lips, studying the features of her flustered expression. Her brows were slightly pinched together, thighs clenching and unclenching together, and her bottom lip threatened to quiver. His thumb traced over her bottom lip once more, dragging it to the side before sliding his thumb down to pull the lip down.
Boundaries weren’t tricky, yet they were walking a fine line on their friendship. That didn’t matter, not when they were high, not when they were both wanting the same thing at the moment. The warmth of Jules' mouth had taken his thumb into his mouth. Harry’s eyes blew wide in surprise, yet not very. Somewhere deep inside of her, she was not shy, and Harry knew if he pushed her enough she would show the side where she could let the little devil come out of her and play.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry chuckled quietly, shifting his hips on the couch as he gave her a small once over, “It’s like that then, huh?”
This new found confidence in her dazed mind, and Harry’s reaction, was enough for her to push the boundaries and see how far they could walk this line before they both toppled over it together. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, steading his movements, as her tongue started to slowly trail around his thumb. Hollowing her cheeks and sucking it deeply, showing off the skills that Harry desperately wanted to test.
“Naughty little minx,” Harry commented, trying to ignore the half chub in his briefs that grew from anticipation. Maybe the lines didn’t exist at all, maybe the lines were a made up rule, or maybe it was a rule that didn’t apply to them; either way, Harry still pumped his thumb in and out of her mouth and pressed down on her tongue just to hear her gag.
The taste of his thumb satisfied her, but she wondered what other parts of him tasted like. Many nights she laid awake, wondering, thinking; dreaming of him growing inside of her mouth. Jules knew she could satisfy him, she was confident about that. One small pop sounded between them, Harry’s thumb now cold as the air hit it, and Jules’ mouth still watering and awaiting more, deeply in anticipation.
“Kiss me.”
Those two words, shattering the tension in the air within seconds. Jules’ couldn’t believe the words that left her. A weight lifted off of her, but another weight brushed against her chest instead. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around her throat, taking her bottom lip into her mouth to taste the sweet indica they had smoked earlier. His lanky body pressed against hers, the sweater giving a facade of bulk, yet when she reached out to touch his hip, it was petite.
He assaulted her lips in a feverish kiss, bruising her bottom lip between his bunny teeth as he bit on it, pulling on it, and sucking it harshly while his fingers pinched the skin around her throat lightly. The fire inside the both of them were only fueling the flames much higher than before; the room burned with fumes of euphoria and lust, rolling each other up and smoking each other to become addicted to the pleasure they could offer each other.
Letting off her lips, she inhaled sharply at the realization that this was, in fact, really happening. Every part of her wanted to take off her clothes, but slow and steady always won a race; one that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to win.
“You taste so sweet,” Harry’s voice rasped out in a sharp breath while his lips continued to kiss around her neck, his hand resting on her shoulder as he squeezed it tightly to ignore the throbbing in his pants, “Fuck, I want more of you,” His tongue lapped up the side of her neck, nibbling on the supple skin.
“Shit,” She hissed at the feeling of his bites and kisses. Jules couldn’t refrain from anchoring her body down against his, letting her legs open. Harry caught the hint, nessling between her thighs and pressing himself tightly against her front as he bit down harder on her neck, “Fuck! H-Harry–,” A choke of moans blurted from her.
“Want to taste more of you,” He mumbled against her skin, “Won’t you let me? I know you must be fuckin’ soaked.”
“Mmmph,” Jules almost choked on the thick swallow, feeling his hardened member pressed tight against her front. She wasn’t sure how long she could take the foreplay, even if it just started; she knew that the moment Harry touched her, she would fight her for life not to come too soon, “I want that,” She whimpered, “I want to feel your mouth on me.”
Harry’s large hands pushed up the sweatshirt that she wore, and she accompanied him in taking off her top. He awed at the sight of her body, leaning down to kiss the valley of her chest while his hand traced over the top of her breast; giving it a hard squeeze, he kept his lips on her skin until he hit her belly button while letting his body slink down.
“Your body is so fuckin’ hot,” He mumbled softly, giving the button on her pants a kind kiss before undoing them, “Can’t wait to see the rest of you. Taste the rest of you.”
Her chest was rising and falling under the anticipation, watching as Harry peeled her pants off of her and exposed the white laced thong she wore. Harry smirked wide, creating dimples in her skin as he kissed her inner thigh, letting out a hum of appreciation.
“This is a sight to see,” Harry taunted, parting his lips as his two fingers swiped up the front of her underwear, a beautiful trace of arousal lightly coating his fingers, “Wet. Just as I suspected,” He teased, then stuck his tongue out to lap up the arousal, it was light and sweet, almost making his head dizzy from the taste, “Tell me something, Jules,” his thumb placed the swollen pearl of hers, flicking his dark gaze up to her, “How long have you been this wet for me? Be truthful with me and I’ll make sure to take care of you, darlin’.”
There was a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, the temperature in the room had heightened by what seemed like a million degrees. Her throat was dry, continuously swallowing the saliva. Jules’ eyes fluttered down to Harry, tongue barely poking out to wet her lips.
“A while,” Her voice shook, flicking upwards into exasperation as his thumb started to circle around the swollen clit of hers, “F-Fuck, that feels really good.”
“Wonder how long you’ve been wanting this,” He teased softly, moving in closer between her legs, his breath hot on her clit as he spoke, “If you’ve been dying for this scene. Me, between your pretty thighs, eating your pretty little cunt.”
Words, they weren’t available to her. Jules’ drew a blank in her mind, and just as she opened her mouth to respond, a long drawn out moan escaped instead. Harry’s tongue pressed hard against her clit, his two fingers pushing her panties to the side as his tongue began to flick upwards between her slick folds. Describing the feeling of being ate out while high on weed was almost impossible to her, the feeling was so intense that she could barely keep her hips still.
But Harry helped her with that, of course, he was a lovely gentleman and wanted to get the job done. His free hand made sure to hold one side of her hip down. The warmth of his mouth was enough for her stomach to swirl and her thighs shake, the tip of his tongue teasing the arousal between her folds as it dripped down onto his chin, then using just the tip to circle carefully around the swollen flesh that needed it the most.
She was in heaven, or maybe a made up heaven that her mind made her see. Either way, she was in the clouds of pleasure. Jules’ back arched upwards as her hand went to his head, fingers curling into the buzzcut, just for her fingernails to dig deeply into the palm of her hand. A gasp, a moan, a whimper, a plead.
His tongue was working magic, but when his fingers plunged into her hole, she let out a mere cry that made her thighs close around his head. Harry chuckled deeply, removing his head from her thighs while he pumped his fingers and out of her at a steady pace. He watched as her body withered underneath him, face scrunched in pleasure, while she silently pleaded for him in short breathed curses.
“How can I let you cum if you close your legs, pretty girl?” Harry coo’d softly, using his hand to force her thigh back down, “Is it too much, hm? Can barely take two fingers f’me?”
Jules’ whimpered, trying to relax her legs enough to make room for him.
“It–it feels so–good,” She breathed out as her eyes rolled back into her head, trying to catch her breath.
Harry curled his fingers into her cunt, watching her body react to him.
“I know, darlin’, I know,” His voice was laced in fake sympathy as he dipped back down between her legs, “And I’m gonna take such good care of you, too. Just need you to be a good girl for me.”
When Jules felt his tongue back on her flesh, it was merely over for her. She was approaching her first orgasm of the night, something inside of her was telling her this wasn’t going to be the last one either. One of her legs hooked around Harry’s neck as she brought him closer, his tongue assaulting the swollen flesh at a quicker pace, while her moans and whimpers echoed through the living-room.
A long drawn out whimper of his name escaped her, then silenced her as euphoria flooded her veins. Stomach tightening, her body froze as she drenched Harry’s chin. His tongue slowed its pace, but still relentlessly rode her orgasm out until she was pushing her body away from him from the burning sensation of the over sensitive area.
Harry’s head popped up from between her legs, chin glistening with her arousal, and a lopsided smile on his lips. Jules looked so fucked out of her mind, chest rising and falling while she tried to catch her breath. He rubbed her thigh slowly, leaning down to kiss down the valley of her chest once more, then the top of her breast.
“I’m not done with you yet, Jules,” He mumbled against her skin, “Need to bury my cock inside of you, hm?”
“Mmmh, yeah,” Jules nodded her head softly.
��Mhmm, I know, honey,” Harry coo’d as his fingers hooked underneath the string of her thong, pulling it down her legs and flicking them to the floor.
Jules unhooked her bra as Harry took his sweater off. They both discarded their clothes to the side. Harry’s lanky body had carved parts that were prominent, his hips making a sharp V line that disappeared down to his pubic bone, complimenting the ferns that looked so pretty between the sweet happy trail of his that disappeared into his pants.
She couldn’t not notice the veins in his hands as he undid his belt. Flexing, twitching until his fingers wrapped tightly around the belt and pulled it off with a loud snap. The sight made her mouth water; remembering the one time that she had ever seen him shirtless, but this was different. This was intimate, this was for her; he was hers, just for the night.
When he removed his pants, his thick cock sprung from his briefs. Pretty and complemented by the bush of pubes around his member, red and angry, yet soft and pink in some places. Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking down the veins that displayed across his cock as he took in the sight below him; Jules body, beautiful and all his, perfect in the ocean waves of her hips and clouds of her supple breasts.
“Gonna take my cock f’me?” Harry drew out in a half moan, tracing his hand up the back of her thigh as he brought her ankle to his shoulder and held it there. It took everything inside of him not to shove himself inside of her already, but he needed to know she was ready; which Jules very much was.
“Fill me up,” She begged in small whines, reaching out to touch the carved V line of his, fluttering her eyes, “Stretch me out and fuck me dumb, please?”
Fucking hell, Harry thought to himself as his eyes rolled back into his head.
“ ‘M not one to disappoint,” He licked over his lips, tapping his cock against her cunt softly, watching as his tip lathered around her arousal through her slick folds, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re fucked dumb.”
The tip of his cock brushed against her wet cunt once more, hips steady as he pushed forward. She was fucking wet, but still tight around his cock. His thick girth stretched her out in ways that she hadn’t had anyone do before; yet he was doing it. Stretching her out and making her body crumble underneath him. Harry let out a string of curses under his breath as he leaned over her, one hand on the couch, curling his fingers into the fabric just as his bottomed out to the hilt.
“That’s good, taking my cock so good,” Harry breathed out, a growl vibrating through his throat as he pulled his hips back, just to snap them harshly against her, earning a moan from her, “Fuck, just like that. Y’sound so fuckin’ heavenly.”
Jules whimpered underneath him, wrapping her one leg around his hip and bringing him closer. The shadow of his sharp jawline casted over her as he nearly hid his face into his arm in pleasure. Thrusting, hearing the sounds of skin to skin, arousal meshing, their moans intertwining in the room and spinning in the air together. Harry’s hand cupped one of her breasts, parting his lips as he caught her mouth with his.
Jules used her hand to cup his cheek as she overtook him in the kiss. His tongue lapped messily around her bottom lip, to which hers met his, rubbing against each other as they made out feverishly. Sucking lips, moaning into each other’s mouths, and Harry’s hips messily snapping against hers. His head was burning with the warmth wrapped around his cock, her cunt barely accommodated his cock, which made Harry work that much harder to fuck her.
All while desperately trying not to fucking bust. He needed to slow down, or it would’ve been over in seconds. It was almost not fair. Something he desperately wanted in the moment, being ripped away by his shortcomings. If he could make it a few more minutes with her tight cunt wrapped around him, he’d be considered a winner.
Harry broke the kiss, leaning down as his lips perfectly wrapped around her nipple and his tongue slowly licked at the skin, eyes shut closed. She had never come from nipple play before, but her core was nearly flooded and throbbing with pleasure. Harry gazed up at her in wonder, the noises she made made his cock drip with each mewl. Ever so often, she would go back to grinding, but the way he worked her nipple had made her go still. It was like she couldn’t bear to move. If she moved, she would certainly cum.
Her fingers digging into the couch, and her nose resting at the top of his forehead, she begged him for more. Small pants and breaths left her as she ground her hips against his cock, toes curling as she whined to herself. The pleasure was so much that she wanted to fucking cry from how good it felt.
“Keep sucking them, p-please, p-please don’t stop–” She nearly cried.
With each kitten lick, she drenched Harry’s cock, only making him more proud of the way he made her feel. The adrenaline rushing through him, the pleasure, it was blinding; having such a gorgeous thing laid out in front of him, and getting the honor to have her.
But, he wanted more too.
Adjusting his hips, he slowly, painfully, thrusted his cock up into her–the slow pace was enough to make her cry. Tears welled against her waterline as she bit down onto her knuckle, her orgasm was slowly inching more and more.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she buried her face into his shoulder. He let off her nipple, kissing up her breast slowly as he nuzzled his face into her neck, continuing to thrust up into her. The sudden emptiness made Jules mewl out in desperation, only for Harry to grab her hair and force her to her hands and knees.
“Look at you shaking, can barely take my cock, ” Harry breathed out, slapping his cock against her ass with a huff, “So pathetic, I fucking love it. Watching you like this. Never thought I’d see the day you’d cry over how good I fuck you.”
“F-fuck…you,” Jules whined quietly, closing her eyes as she pressed her ass against his cock.
Harry sat pretty on his knees behind her ass, his cock in his hand as he slowly pushed back into her pretty hole. He let out a guttural moan, tilting his head back with his Adam’s apple bobbing as he continued to buck his hips in and out of her.
“Trust me, baby, I will.”
He grunted out, thumb trailing down to her hole, rubbing it in circles as his hips snapped against her skin harshly.
“God, I fucking love your ass,” He hissed out, “So fucking thick. So full. Gorgeous, really.”
“P-Please…” She whispered.
“I know, baby,” He chuckled out, taking both hands as he spread her cheeks apart, then shook them carefully. Spreading them apart, he could get a full view of how his cock slid in and out of her. It made his spine shiver.
She grumbled, hiding her face as the euphoria nearly sent her over the edge of an orgasm. Harry hollowed his cheeks, then spat onto her other hole before rubbing the wetness around it slowly.
“You like that?” He taunted.
“Y-Yeah, please keep rubbing it, feels really good,” She whimpered with a beg as she looked back at him. Harry smirked wide, snapping his hips to burrow his cock deep into her.
“Keep talking like that and we’ll have to switch holes, darlin’.”
Jules could barely hold it together, her cunt dripped around his girth as he stretched her out. It was impossible not to come, but she needed to make this last; each thrust was contradicting her thoughts, his tip brushing against her spot delicately, making her thighs clench and voice mewl out in long, sultry moans while his fingers dug into her ass.
Harry slowly pulled out of her, letting out a half broken moan as he fell back onto his ass. Jules, utterly fucked, looked from behind her as Harry patted his lap and curled his fingers in a come hither motion.
“Come ride me, dollface.” Harry mumbled, fucked.
His thighs were toned tight, the way he looked with his thighs spread and chest heaving up and down; glistening with sweat, Jules moved herself into his lap and pressed her mouth against his into a hard kiss. Harry grabbed her jaw, handling his aching cock underneath her as she eased down onto it once more. Her hands found his chest, curling into his skin as she felt his thick girth fill her back up, her mouth opened against his as she mewled out a desperate moan.
“Gonna sit still for me, let me do all the work for you, yeah?” Harry brushed the stray hairs from her forehead, kissing the underside of her jaw as he rocked his hips back and forth.
Her stomach was burning, thighs shaking from the tip of his cock grazing her spot with each thrust. She placed a hand against the back of the couch, panting out as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Harry cupped her breast, slowly kissing it as he whispered sweet praises to her.
“I said sit still,” His voice was firm, yet sweet, his jaw clenched as he felt her walls pulse around his cock. She let out a soft whine, clutching his forearms tightly. Jules was close, there was no denying it anymore, she would surely spill on him any time soon.
“It feels–god!” She cried out, pinching her eyes shut tightly. Harry chuckled darkly, one of his hands roaming to the back of her neck to grasp the roots of her hair. “Just like that—,”
“Be a good girl and shut up f'me, okay? Tongue out,” He used his other finger to tap her lips slowly. She whimpered, doe eyes glued down to him as she poked her tongue out slowly. He smirked, forcing her head to come closer before sliding her tongue past his lips.
He sucked her tongue, massaging his own against it before flicking and kitten licking it carefully. At the same time, the force of his thrusts rocked through her, harder, faster, Harry was peaking in his own orgasm. Her stomach was on fire, feeling like she was going to explode into a million pieces. Harry’s hand slowly roamed up to her stomach, past her belly button and to her nipples.
His two fingers pinched, twisted and flicked at them as his other hand took her hip and made her grind against his cock at a quicker pace. She cried out, nearing tears as pants left her. Harry felt her pussy start to become drenched, her walls throbbed in agony as it signaled that they were both reaching heaven, right where they wanted to be.
Taking a handful of her breasts, he squeezed it harshly. He started to buck his hips up into her cunt. Her fingers dug into his skin, eyes rolling back into the back of her head as her stomach began to twist for the second time this night. Mewling out, her head tilted back from the pure bliss that filled her veins.
Jules’ forehead rested against his, pleaing, whining, only ultimately to be given what she had wanted in the first place. Harry smirked, letting go of her tongue before taking her hips into his hands and watched as she fell apart on his cock.
His attention to her details, her body moving with each twitch and cry, and the beautiful feeling that overcame his cock; he let out a throat ripping moan right as he orgasmed deeply inside of her, just as she finished the same time. They held each other tightly, breaths staggered and tired as they relished in their high, just to come down from it moments later.
“Fucked dumb, baby?” He chuckled out.
“So fucked dumb.” Jules whispered back to him.
#harry styles x yn#harry styles x reader#baldrry#harry styles smut#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles#harry styles blurb#shroombloomm#harry styles imagines#dom harry styles#harry styles one shot#drug dealrry#harry styles x mc
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I JUST WANT A LOVER
RATING: R/smut (graphic sex, alcohol use, cigarettes)
WORD COUNT: 6.8k (i'm getting back in the swing of things, okay!!!! sorry this isn't my normal 20k lmao) (also like 75% smut) (i make no apologies)
CATEGORIES: one night stand!harry
PT. 2 | MASTERLIST | TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK
a/n: i know it's been about twelve billion years, but thank you for bearing with me. i had the urge to write some smutty smut, so i did — not sure how consistent i'll be, but i'm back, baby!!!!!
“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”
You glanced up and realized he was looking at you, having fully caught you investigating him. “Had to see what my shot partner was like.”
“And what do you think?”
“Hmm…” You let your sentence hang while you figured out what to say, your tipsy brain scrambling for something flirty but not too weird. “Decent, but concerned you won’t be able to take it without a chaser.”
He chuckled, leaning his hip against the bar so the two of you were even closer. “What happens if I can’t?”
His arm brushed against your side, and you tried to not pay attention to it too much. It was taking every fiber of your body not to freak out and overthink this, because this was the first man since your ex to flirt with you in a bar—or even come up to you in a bar— and he was hotter than your ex by a landslide. Which was both flattering and also frightening. “I won’t let you follow me to the dance floor,” you answer him, plucking what little courage you had and employing it, praying it didn’t fall flat.
But he smiled. “And if I can?”
The shots arrived, and he picked up them both, handing yours to you, your fingertips brushing. “Then I’ll let you dance as close as you want.”
or
Y/N is newly single and Harry's really into her
You’d come out at the request of your best friend, but to be honest it didn’t take much to get you out there these days. The breakup with your ex had occurred a month and a half ago and since then you decided you were done being sad, and wanted to have fun. Fun that you hadn’t had in months. Fun with your best friends in the smallest amount of clothing you could get away with, and lips lined in a deep mauve that always made you feel like the baddest bitch in the room.
It was working too. You could feel your confidence and happiness creeping back piece by piece, every time you were dancing in a bar, screaming lyrics to your favorite songs and sweat slipping down your back, you felt one step closer to the person you remembered being. A person you had loved being too—full of life, the person people called when they wanted to have a fun night, the host of many a party, the best dance partner, and the perfect person for a heart to heart over pizza at the end of the night.
“I missed this!” Your friend Abbey said when you’d walked into her apartment with a bottle of gin earlier that night. She swept you into a giant hug and you couldn’t help but smile. “Like, I know I’ve seen you recently, but I missed going out with you—missed being happy with you.”
“I missed it too,” you’d replied, and meant it.
Now you were in your favorite bar in the Lower East Side, waiting impatiently at the bar amidst the many other patrons, tapping your phone on the counter to keep your mind busy. The combination of old Britney Spears songs pounding through the stereo and the rush of alcohol in your bloodstream made you full of joy, and a little more wild than usual.
“Gin and tonic and a fireball shot,” you requested, and he nodded before turning around.
“Fireball, huh?” The voice was deep and smooth, and you couldn’t help but turn around to discover who the owner was. He was tall, at least six foot, with dark brown hair and light green eyes, tattoos littering his arms. There was a ghost of stubble on his jaw, which only made it looked more chiseled.
He was so fucking hot it seemed unnatural. “Yeah,” you replied. “Feel like being a little crazy tonight.”
His lips curled up at the corners at that, and he took a step toward you. “Sounds like fun.” He raised his finger, grabbing the bartender’s attention, and requested a shot as well.
You took his distraction as an opportunity to study his side profile. His hair curled slightly around his ear, and his nose curved up ever so slightly at the end. There was a dash of freckles on his cheeks that you could barely make out in the low lighting. As your eyes traveled down to his clothing, you decided that he was ripped—his arm muscles bulged ever so slightly in a delicious way. He was so attractive it felt illegal to even be looking at him, much less talking to him. And having a drink with him, apparently.
“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”
You glanced up and realized he was looking at you, having fully caught you investigating him. “Had to see what my shot partner was like.”
“And what do you think?”
“Hmm…” You let your sentence hang while you figured out what to say, your tipsy brain scrambling for something flirty but not too weird. “Decent, but concerned you won’t be able to take it without a chaser.”
He chuckled, leaning his hip against the bar so the two of you were even closer. “What happens if I can’t?”
His arm brushed against your side, and you tried to not pay attention to it too much. It was taking every fiber of your body not to freak out and overthink this, because this was the first man since your ex to flirt with you in a bar—or even come up to you in a bar— and he was hotter than your ex by a landslide. Which was both flattering and also frightening. “I won’t let you follow me to the dance floor,” you answer him, plucking what little courage you had and employing it, praying it didn’t fall flat.
But he smiled. “And if I can?”
The shots arrived, and he picked up them both, handing your to you, your fingertips brushing. “Then I’ll let you dance as close as you want.”
“Deal,” he replied. The two of you bumped glasses, tapped them on the bar, and threw them back, the alcohol burning your throat. You watched as he, much to your excitement, didn’t struggle with the shot in the slightest. He just set the glass back on the bar and found your eyes. “Looks like we’re dancing, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment lit up your spine, and you tried to not smile too widely. The bartender came over and asked if it was on a tab or closed, and the man told him to put it on his tab without a beat—and that’s when you got his last name. Styles. Sexy, frankly.
He turned back to you and nodded toward the back of the bar. “Lead the way.”
The Motto by Drake was blasting through the speakers and this was the tenth song you two had been dancing to. Your gin and tonic was nearly empty, and your right hand was thrown around Harry’s neck—that was his name. Harry. It was said in your ear with his lips far too close to your skin for you to not fantasize about how they would feel on the rest of your body, the melt of his accent curling around you like a fire. His hands were on your hips, fingers curved around you so he could move with you with ease, and the two of your alternated between staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity it made you have to resist the desire to kiss him every time, and the bar around you.
Your back was sweaty from the heat of the dance floor, but the backless shirt you were wearing meant the material wasn’t sticking to your skin. Harry had informed you about a minute ago that the shirt was “one of the hottest things he’d ever seen” and that had made you smile coyly, or at least you’d hoped it was coy. You were enjoying the way his skin felt on yours, the press of his fingers, the warmth of his breath on your cheek.
It had been a while since you’d done this—let yourself flirt with a stranger, bask in the excitement of someone’s desire—and it felt so damn good. You dropped your head back, letting your hair fall backward, singing the lyrics you knew by heart. As you did it, you felt the tightening of Harry’s fingers on your waist, and you smiled to yourself. In return, you wrapped your fingers in the bit of hair at the nape of his neck, scratching ever so slightly. This made Harry’s grip tighten again, and you liked knowing that you were affecting him as much as he was affecting you.
You let your head fall forward, gaze meeting his. It was burning into you, his eyes gliding from your face down your body to the rise of your breasts. The pressure of it, of his interest and desire, felt good, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a deep need to kiss him. The prospect of touching your lips to his, which looked so plush and inviting, a dark pink that looked far too kissable. The need burned at your chest, and you decided there was no reason not to give in. Tonight, you decided, you were saying yes to things that made you a bit nervous, and seeing what happened. So, you pressed your torso flat against his and leaned your head back, tugging at his with your fingers so your mouths met in harmony.
It was like all he waiting for was permission, because the minute your lips touched he moved, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you even closer, the other moving upward, his hand cupping your throat gently. His lips were soft and plush, just like you’d hoped. You loved how they moved against yours with obvious desire, begging and pleading with you through the kiss. When he brushed his finger along the column of your neck, you let your tongue dart out, brushing against his lips, which he parted for you, and you swept into his mouth, finding his tongue.
The kiss was messy and needy and exhilarating. From the press of his lips and the way they parted and pulled at yours, to his arm that was locked around your waist, fingers pressing int your skin, or the hand that was splayed at your neck, his fingers curled int your hair and the base of his palm on your throat.
It was, in all honesty, how you’d been wanting to be kissed for months. With desire, to feel needed and craved by another. It set your body on fire, and made you throw any apprehension you had to the wind.
“Air,” you mumbled, pulling your mouth away. “I need air. And a cigarette.”
He just smiled, nodding gently, and then threaded his fingers in yours, tugging you through the crowd. You hadn’t necessarily invited him to follow you outside, but you hoped he would get the hint—and he did, thankfully. There was a door in the back of the bar, a security guard standing next to it. Harry nodded at him, pointing at the door, and the guard pushed it open. It led to an alley, which had some other people down the way, but this section was empty. Perfectly, beautifully empty.
It was quiet outside, the thrum of the bass from the music inside seeping out, and the honk of taxi cabs melding into the perfect sound of New York at nighttime. You leaned against the rough brick of the building, the bare skin of your back cooling against the brick, which felt glorious.
“Cigarette?” You asked, reaching into your purse to pull out your pack and lighter.
“Sure,” he answered. “But I only need half of one.”
“Share one with me then.”
He smiled, and nodded. You placed the cigarette between your lips and lifted the lighter, flicking it so the flame appeared, lighting the end. You took a deep inhale, holding the cigarette in your teeth lightly as you exhaled out the sides of your mouth around it, placing the lighter back in your purse. Then, you took the cigarette from your mouth and offered it to Harry.
There was something so erotic about watching him smoke the same cigarette that had just been in your mouth. You couldn’t help but stare at his mouth curved around it, the smoke leaking from his mouth as he exhaled. You wondered if he thought the same when he watched you smoke.
“So,” you said as you held the cigarette between your fingers after taking a puff. “What’s your story, Harry?”
He stepped forward and pressed his hand to the brick at the side of your head, before leaning in and wrapping his lips around the edge of the cigarette that you still held between your fingers and taking another inhale. “I work in a record store and record some music on the side. Live a couple blocks from here with my friend Michael. Moved here a couple years ago.” He nodded to you. “And you?”
“Live in the village, work in marketing like everyone else,” that made him chuckle. “And have been here for three years.”
“Like it?” He asked, and you nodded.
“I do. I don’t think it’s forever, but I doubt that’s surprising. But I can’t imagine living anywhere else right now.”
He took another inhale of the cigarette before agreeing. “I know what you mean.”
“Are you here with friends?”
He nodded. “My roommate and some other people.”
“Will they miss you?”
That earned you a smile, and a shake of his head. “Why, what do you have in mind?”
The cigarette, shot, and gin and tonic are fueling your confidence because you pressed towards him and whispered in his ear, “your bed, preferably.”
He looked at you for a beat and then pressed his lips to yours, his free hand that isn’t touching the brick wrapping around your waist and tugging you toward him. It was a fight for dominance, this kiss—heated in a way the other one hadn’t been. It was full of desire and need and curiosity, that curiosity of finding someone new and leaning what they like and how they like it. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan when he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, and that sound made Harry press himself into you, his erection obvious against the material of your skirt. It made you wrap your hand holding the cigarette around his neck, making sure to not singe his beautiful curls, and curl your other hand in the waistband of his jeans.
Your finger brushed against a sliver of skin above his boxers and below the hem of his shirt, and you heard the sharp inhale of air he took in as you did it, pressing firmly against you and deepening the kiss. You wanted him in a way that you’d forgotten how to feel, and it lit up your whole body, making you absolutely uninterested in pretending you weren’t incredibly into him. You tugged his lip between your teeth and sucked gently, before licking across it. He responded by tucking his chin and brushing a series of kisses down your neck, pulling and nipping at the skin in a way that had you digging your fingers into his skin.
“Can we go,” you said, more a statement than a question in the way the words tumbled from your mouth. You couldn’t do this much longer or you’d end up begging him to fuck you in the bathroom of this bar.
“Fuck yes,” he answered, placing a searing kiss on your lips. “Need to say goodbye to my friends and close out the tab. Meet me at the bar?”
You nodded, and the two of you headed inside to say your goodbyes. You found your friends, explaining the situation in excited tones, and kissed them all goodbye on the cheek, promising to text the address you ended up at. And then you went in search of Harry, easily finding his mop of curls poking out amongst the people at the bar. You headed right for him, and when he caught sight of you he reached out for you, tucking you into his side, his arm around your waist.
“Let’s go,” he mumbled into your hair after he signed his name on the receipt, and you followed him out of the bar and into the night.
He kicked his bedroom door shut and walked to you in two paces, tugging you to him. Your lips met messily, all the pent-up tension from the evening and the walk here coming to a head. You decided to not mess around—you wanted to feel his skin desperately. The buttons of his shirt, a soft silk that was sweaty in the best way, came unbuttoned with ease, and you pushed the shirt off his shoulders, exposing his skin. It was tan and scattered with so many tattoos that you wanted to explore, but didn’t feel like you had enough time.
“I love your tattoos,” you said, your voice cutting through the sexual tension and silence in the room. Your fingers brushed across the swallows on his chest, and you saw his muscles tighten at the touch.
He didn’t acknowledge your statement. Instead, he was too busy staring at you. “Y/N,” he said, breathlessly, “can I take this off?” His fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt, and you nodded with ease. The material was pulled over your head in mere seconds, leaving you in just your skirt and boots. His fingers were on your skin immediately, cupping your breasts, lips brushing along the slope of your shoulder as he pulled on your nipples.
Your head fell back, a quiet “fuck” leaving your lips as his fingers moved across your skin, leaving a searing fire in their wake. He took advantage of the space, sucking on the skin at the base of your neck, nipping and pulling and you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged gently. “Bed,” you exhaled, and he nodded, walking you backward until you fell onto the mattress.
He leaned back and unzipped your boots for you, dropping them to the floor and then removing his own shoes. You pulled on the clasp of his belt, freeing it from his jeans, and then popped the button, pulling down the zipper. The thought crossed your mind that he was the first man you’d undressed since your ex, but you didn’t let the thought linger for too long. Instead, you busied your mind by pushing down his jeans and tugging him on top of you, finding solace in his lips.
The kiss he gave you was deep and full of need, and you drank it in, loving each second that it held you. His fingers tugged on the zipper of your skirt and you wriggled to let him free you from it, leaving you both in just your underwear. You moved up the bed, pulling him with you, and tugged him down on top of you.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him in, your centers meeting and both of you let out a moan. Hooking up with someone new was always an interesting experience, that edge of apprehension and unsuredness, but this was feeling more and more comfortable by the second for you. Maybe it was the way his fingers felt on your skin, the way he didn’t stop touching some inch of you. Or the kisses he placed on your lips and then your skin, or the way his breathing hitched when you rolled your hips.
He was hard against you and you loved how it felt, how the friction felt against you. His tip was nudging at your clit through your underwear and you could feel how wet you were getting, and you wondered if he could tell too. You hadn’t done any of this in a little while, but you wanted him. Craved him in a way you hadn’t lately, and you wanted more. Wanted to feel the weight of him on your tongue and the press of him against you, that glorious feeling of being held by someone and the crash of an orgasm that exhausted your bones in a way nothing else did. How it made the world slip away for a second.
“Can you roll over?” You asked, nosing gently at his jaw.
“Yeah, ‘course,” he answered, flopping onto his back. You were on him in seconds, straddling his waist and swiveling your hips in a slow, tantalizing circle that had his hands reaching the curve of your waist. The pressure made you grind into him deeper and the moan that fell from his lips was intoxicating. You didn’t know how much more of him you could take, the pressure just building and building and building inside of you every time he kissed another inch of your skin.
Harry was fucking obsessed with you. This random girl he’d found at the bar who he couldn’t stop staring at. The curtain of your hair that fell around him as you bent forward and scattered kisses down his torso, making him inhale sharply, the feeling surprising in all the right ways. His fingers were pressed into your waist and he let them drop to your thighs, enjoying the softness of your skin and how he could grip them and pull ever so slightly to make your hips move over his cock, the friction feeling heavenly.
He needed you in every way, and he was simply wondering what you would be willing to give him because at this rate he would take any scrap or morsel of you.
And that’s when you suddenly shuffled backward and hovered over his thighs, lips ghosting downward to the top of his underwear. Fuck, you were going to go down on him. Would he survive? He wasn’t sure.
He lifted his hips and let you tug down his underwear, the sweetness of the kiss you placed on his hip bone catching him off guard. Harry lifted up onto his elbows so he could watch you as your fingers brushed along the length of him.
“You’re pretty,” you said, words dancing across his skin like another one of his tattoos.
“Yeah?” He answered, fingers winding through your hair. “Think I’m pretty, angel?”
You giggled—fucking giggled—and it set him on fire. “Very,” you informed him. Then, you ran your tongue up the length of him and swirled your tongue around his tip, the sight making Harry drop his head back and moan again. It felt so good, the warmth of your mouth and the caress of your tongue, the way you were delicate yet intense.
“More,” he mumbled, “please, Y/N.”
You didn’t hesitate before spitting on the length of him and rubbing your hand up and down, creating a ruthless pace that had him panting, circling your tongue over his tip repeatedly, making every inch of his cock light on fire. Then, you dropped your hand to his balls and gently rolled them as you took him in your mouth, and that’s when Harry looked back at you, not wanting to miss this moment.
Your eyes were on him, watching his response to your actions as you sunk lower and lower on his cock. When his tip bumped the back of your throat he groaned, and it took every inch of his willpower not to buck his hips at the sensation. And then you pulled back a bit, and then back down, creating a rhythm, your lips wrapped around him, tongue gently licking stripes up the underside of him as you worked.
It was heaven, your mouth. He hadn’t been with someone in a while, and you were unexpected but oh so perfect. He couldn’t stop looking at you, at the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth over and over again, the sight of your eyes watering ever so slightly when you took him particularly deep, the bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. You were fucking drooling over him. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.
When you pulled back and swirled your tongue over his tip and then sucked, he couldn’t hold back—he bucked his hips ever so slightly into your mouth. “Fuck, sorry,” he mumbled. But you just nodded, widening your lips and stilling where you hovered.
His eyes about rolled back in his head.
“You want me to fuck your mouth, angel?” You nodded, and Harry didn’t waste another second.
He curled his fingers through your hair and pressed his hips up, using your mouth and you let him. You even moaned at one point when his tip brushed the back of your throat. It was like you loved this, loved the feeling of him using your mouth, and that made him even more intrigued by you. When you started sucking on his tip when he pulled back, he decided he couldn’t take this anymore—he was going to come if he didn’t stop.
“Gotta stop,” he said, pulling your head off him. “Gonna come if I don’t.”
You looked up at him and smiled, before wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. “Liked how you felt,” you mumbled, crawling up his body toward him. He grasped your hips in his hands, and looked up at you, catching your eyes and smiling.
“Liked it too,” he said. “Come ‘ere.” You lowered your mouth and kissed him, lips intertwining perfectly. Then you started grinding back and forth on his cock, and Harry realized how wet you were through your underwear—fucking dripping, in fact. “Roll over for me,” he requested, and you did as he said with ease.
He hovered over you and fingered the waistband of your underwear. “Please,” you mumbled, and he smiled, before pulling the material off with ease. You were, in fact, glistening with arousal and Harry loved the sight. He pressed a kiss to your knee and began to bend down because he wanted desperately to go down on you, but you started shaking your head back and forth. “No,” you said, “Want you to fuck me. Please.”
The please got Harry. “Yeah?” You nodded, and Harry moved closer to you, letting your legs fall to either side of him. “Wanted to go down on you, but I guess that’ll have to wait.”
Your hands swept up his sides, brushing along the tattoos that rested there. Harry pulled away just enough to reach his bedside table, grabbing a condom. Quickly, he ripped open the package and rolled it on himself, pumping gently, eyes glancing over your body spread out in front of him. Your breasts, perfectly large in all the ways he loved, the curve of your waist and the skin he was deeply enjoying holding onto, your gentle but wildly talented hands, the soft waves of your hair that smelled far too delicious to not bury his face in. It was like you were out of a dream.
“Harry,” you said, hand reaching for his thigh and tugging gently. “Please.”
The begging really did it for Harry—he hated to admit it, but he fucking loved it when girls begged for him. Made him feel so wanted, so desired, so needed, which is exactly what he craved from sex. “Coming, I promise, love.” He rose up on his knees and nudged your thighs a little farther apart with his own, creating space for himself. Leaning over you, he caught your eyes as he nudged your entrance gently. He knew he was big, and he didn’t want to assume it wouldn’t hurt, so he was going to watch your expression to see how it felt.
And what he saw made him keen. The way your eyelids drooped ever so slightly, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. Then, he felt your hips brush down a bit, slipping more of his cock inside of you, and a gentle moan slip from your lips. “More,” you requested, hand winding around his bicep and gripping him.
Harry didn’t make you wait a second longer, he pushed forward, watching your eyes to make sure it didn’t hurt, and it never did. You just shut your eyes and your mouth dropped open, no sound coming out. You felt like heaven—wet and warm and snug, and Harry remembered why he absolutely fucking loved sex.
He pulled out slowly, and when you tugged slightly on his arm, as if to say Hurry up, he answered with a swift thrust in, groaning at the way your walls gripped him. You answered with a moan of your own, the words, “Feels so fucking good,” falling from your lips.
That spurred him forward, and he built up a rhythm that was brutal in pace. You liked it hard, that was obvious, and Harry happened to love it too. He had missed sex and this pace was dizzying in all the right ways. The feeling of your thighs wrapped around his waist, keeping his hips close, and the sight of your breasts bouncing as he fucked you was too much for his brain to process. He couldn’t figure out what to watch. The sight of his cock entering you (which he really liked looking at) or your breasts, or your stomach which he for some reason had the desire to bite gently, the skin stretched there tantalizing. Your face was a dream too—the way you looked at him with desire and need and pleasure so obvious, the moans that left your mouth without a filter, not caring in the slightest who heard.
Harry grabbed your thighs, tugging them up so your hips lifted off the bed and thrust in, hitting a deeper spot that made his head spin—and yours.
You were losing your fucking mind at this sex. He was fucking you like, truly, no man had fucked you before. Full of power and need and dominance in all the ways you loved. The feeling of his eyes on your skin had your body on fire, and that mixed with the way his cock was stretching you out just had your brain melting away. You couldn’t decide on what to pay attention to, but currently his tattoos and the ripple of his biceps was enticing you. The black ink made you curious, and you wondered if you asked if he would tell you their stories.
His hands slipped to hold your hips, pulling you in toward him, fucking you onto him and it made your eyes roll back, a heavy groan ripping from your throat. Missionary, you decided, was underrated. Harry knew how to fuck someone in missionary good, and you wanted it again and again and again. With your ex, you always craved the variety of positions as something to keep you engaged, but right now you had no desire to change your position. All you wanted was more intensity, more pressure, just more.
“More,” you begged, squeezing his arm.
Harry responded with a smile, and then he lowered your hips before rotating them to the left, your right leg draping over your left. He shifted behind you ever so slightly, nudging his cock back inside of you, and you gasped at the depth of the position. You could feel him in your fucking stomach it felt like, and it made you scrabble for his skin, gripping the forearm connected to the hand that was holding your hip as he fucked you. “Good?” He asked, hair falling into his eyes as he bent forward slightly, using the leverage to fuck you harder, driving into you at a brutal but delicious pace.
“So…fuck…good,” you answered, words a struggle in this position. You were so wet and your abdomen was tightening, a clear sign that your orgasm was rising inside of you. That wasn’t something that surprised you, though—you’d always been someone who came with ease, especially in intense sex. So you let it build, let your walls tighten and spasm around Harry.
It had Harry’s grip tightening. The feeling of your walls fluttering around him was a clear sign your orgasm was building, and Harry couldn’t wait to feel it. He wanted to watch you come, to know that he was the reason why. He still had plenty of stamina left—he’d always had plenty of energy when it came to sex—so he decided after you came if you still wanted to have sex, he would happily keep going.
“Fuckkk,” you let out, head dropping back and eyes shutting, hair spread all over his duvet. It was a gorgeous sight, and Harry drove into you faster, the sight of your tongue slipping out onto your lip spurring him on. Then he felt it, the way your walls clamped down tightly and the grip you had on his wrist tighten significantly. You were dripping all over him, and it felt so fucking good that he knew he needed to pause for a second, so he pulled out, turning you back onto your back gently.
Your eyes opened and found his with a smile. “Good?” He asked, and you nodded. “Want more?”
“Hell yes,” you answered, and he chuckled.
Then he dropped down, ducking his mouth to your waiting pussy, the sight of your wetness smeared all over your skin and the smell of your come filling his sense. He licked over your exposed skin, picking it all up with his tongue, and you moaned, obviously sensitive. But instead of stopping him, your hands found his hair and pulled him in closer, making his nose nudge against your clit. You were so. fucking. hot.
He went to town on you, licking inside and then over your clit, which he discovered you particularly liked. He worked his tongue in circles that had your head thrashing, mouth dropped open in a moan, hands a death grip on his hair. Thankfully, he’d always had a thing for that. When he pushed a finger inside of you at your request, that made your eyes roll back, and he fucked you with his fingers, first one and then two. He found your g-spot with relative ease, brushing against it and taking joy in the way your thighs tightened around his head.
Going down on you was so fun; like a new mystery he was taking deep joy in discovering all the secrets of.
You didn’t let that go on for too long, though, pulling on his hair with desperation after he’d been fucking you with his fingers particularly fast. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop, and I’d really like you inside of me again,” you said, and that made him stop immediately. He was not going to miss that opportunity.
He dropped your thighs from where he’d been holding them and moved back to his old spot between your thighs. He spit into his hand and ran it up and down his cock, getting ready to be back inside of you. To his joy, he got to watch your fingers slip down to your clit, brushing in a circle that made your hips buck up towards him.
“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he pushed back into you. Somehow, you were even tighter—likely from being close and having adjusted to his fingers. It felt glorious, and he wasted no time finding a brutal rhythm. He tugged at your legs, pulling them up, so your calves draped over his shoulder, which made you scramble for skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Harry,” you moaned as he thrust into you, hands reaching for his collarbone.
He was close too, the sight of you on the edge and this feeling dizzying him. “I’m close,” he mumbled, and he watched you force your eyes open.
“I think—fuck—I think I might squirt. Is that, shit, is that okay?” The way you stumbled over your words made him smile, and so did what you said. It was a treat, something he’d never expected, but holy hell did he want.
“Fuck yes it is,” he answered, bending forward slightly so your thighs strained. “What do you need?”
“Fingers,” you replied. “On my clit. And a towel below me if you don’t mind your duvet getting wet.”
The prospect of leaving your pussy sounded downright unfathomable, so Harry decided he didn’t give a single shit about the state of his bed. He had plenty of blankets. Who cared about a duvet. “It’s fine,” he told you. Then, he reached between your legs and brushed his fingers over your clit, which made your pussy tighten immediately and your hips buck.
It was like you couldn’t control yourself, the way your hips moved. Harry had to stay incredibly close, so he didn’t slip out, but he didn’t mind. He loved how you felt around him, all consuming and deliciously wet. He wanted to see you squirt more than anything, so he was staving off his orgasm until after you finished, but the effort was torture. The distraction of rubbing your clit was helping, but he didn’t know how much longer he could last.
“Gonna come for me, love?” He mumbled, words tumbling from his fucked out brain. “Wanna see you squirt all over me.”
That, it seemed like, did the trick. Your walls tightened immediately, and Harry felt the rush of your orgasm immediately, coating his lower body in wet. The sight of it, mixed with the load moans spilling from your mouth and the sight of your hand gripping your breast, pulling taut on the skin did it for him. It put him over the edge, and he stuttered, his pace faltering as he came into the condom, gripping your thighs as he rode his finish, the feeling of your squirt making his finish even more intense than usual.
Panting, he gently pulled out of you, letting your thighs fall to the side. “Holy shit,” he said, chest heaving.
You laughed gently, hand dropping to the bed. “Holy shit is right.”
He looked down at your pussy, where a large area around it was wet from you squirting. Harry had only had one girl squirt on him before, and it had been a while ago, so he’d forgotten what it felt like. And how much he fucking loved it. “That was insane.” He looked up at you. “You doing okay?”
You nodded. “Just a little sticky.”
He laughed. “Want to take a shower?”
“Please,” you answered. He reached his hand out for you, and you took it, letting him help you up. When you got to sitting, he pressed a gentle kiss to your nose. The gesture made your heart warm, especially after how vulnerable you’d been with him. You hadn’t done that with every guy you’d been with, and you weren’t fully sure why you trusted him with it, but you were happy you did. Your mind was floaty, drained from most thoughts, and your body felt light in all the right ways.
He led you to the shower, turning on the hot water for you and pointing to where the fresh towels and soap were. “Going to change the sheets,” he said, giving you a kiss on the lips before leaving you to it.
You stood under the shower, letting the warm water fall on your skin. It brought you back into your body. You used the soap and washed up, cleaning all the aftermath of sex from your skin. Then, you stepped out, grabbing a fresh towel, and sat on the toilet to pee, before heading back to his room.
The bed was freshly made, the wet duvet gone from sight. Harry was still naked, tucking a blanket onto the bed when you walked in. “Feel better?”
“Perfect,” you answered. “Thanks for letting me do that.”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m going to take one myself—help yourself to anything you need.”
He patted down the hall, leaving you alone in his room. It was fun to be left alone in a boy’s room, allowing you to snoop just a bit. You explored the framed photos on his dresser and bedside table, finding out he had a sister, and found some photos of him and some friends, boys you thought might be his roommates. His cologne sat on the dresser, and you made a mental note of the brand and scent name, deciding that you’d make the next boyfriend you had wear it because you loved the way Harry smelled.
A book you’d never read before sat on the bedside table and you picked it up, curious. You were reading the inside flap when Harry re-entered the room, causing you to look up. “It’s good,” he said. “The book.”
“Good to know.”
“So.” He pushed the door shut and gestured to the bed. “You’re welcome to stay the night—it’s pretty late. But if you want to head home that’s totally fine too, happy to call you an Uber. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
He was sweet, you decided. That much was clear, from the way his green eyes gleamed with honesty. Sometimes guys would say all that just as a way to pressure you to leave, but this time you truly felt like he didn’t mind either way. “I’ll stay if you’re okay with it.”
Harry smiled at you, and you knew you’d made the right decision. You weren’t quite ready for the night to end, and you didn’t really feel like putting on your clothes and sitting in a stranger’s car right now. “Of course—need something to sleep in?”
“I, uh, usually sleep naked,” you said.
That made Harry split a wide grin. “Knew I liked you for a reason.”
You returned his smile, and as the two of you got into his bed, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. If this was just a random hookup or maybe turn into a multiple time thing. Because honestly, you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. You were even curious what this boy was like during the daytime, if you were completed truthful with yourself. And as you laid on his pillows and he asked you questions about your life, seeming to be genuinely interested, you couldn’t help wonder if maybe he felt the same way.
fill my inbox with your favorite moments, lines, things you’re having ~feels~ about, or other concepts you’re dreaming up for me!!! missed you all <;3
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles concept#harry styles one shot#harry styles drabble#harry styles writing#harry styles x mc
993 notes
·
View notes
Text
05 - the greatest show : the moment you’ve waited for
Summary : a group of misfits, a mysterious leader, a string of murders, and a life on the road.
previous part /// jump to pt. 1
Word Count : 3.5k
Series Masterlist
“ahh, here they all are,” harry hums, finally finding the boxcar that everyone’s seemingly chosen to gather round in tonight.
he’s ushered ladybug into the small space, the fairly large group of people sitting on a bunch of different pieces of furniture strewn around the room. they’re all speaking to each other animatedly, laughing, passing around a dark bottle filled with something fairly potent, based on the smell.
“hey,” harry hums, a bit louder than the overall buzz of mingling people, grabbing everyone’s attention, and making them turn to look over at harry and ladybug.
she grows nervous again, unsure of what they’ll all think of her, if they’ll like her, if they’ll get along with her, if they’ll welcome her. she’s made it past harry, but she’s not sure that that was the hardest part. in all honestly, a one on one conversation with him was nowhere near as bad as clara described it. but now that she’s faced with all the lovely people she’s supposed to be calling family, now that she actually has to meet everyone and make a good impression, she’s a bit tense.
“harry,” a young woman smiles, accent making her obviously italian, “who’s your friend ?” she asks, nodding towards ladybug.
“everyone, this is ladybug. she’s joining our little family. gonna be drawing caricatures of our guests. let’s all welcome her, yeah ?” he hums, patting her on the shoulder. “now, i know you’ve met clara,” he murmurs in thought.
“hi, i’m tom,” he cuts harry right off, offering ladybug a large smile, and extending his even larger hand.
she takes it, shakes it kindly, eyes flicking over tom’s frame. he really is tall. taller than she remembers from hours ago. she notes the slight chuckle from him, “m’7ft. 6inches. it’s pretty impressive the first time innit ?”
she laughs, nodding, the tense air around her seemingly deflating, as she can’t help herself but banter, “surprised you even fit in these cars.”
that manages a laugh from everyone, tom’s smile stretching wide, “s’better than curling up under a bridge.”
she giggles, nodding, “yeah, i’ll give you that one.” her eyes do linger for a moment though, because really, how many people can say they’ve been in the presence of someone so tall ? it really is a sight to take in. harry seemed fairly tall to her, but he doesn’t even reach tom’s shoulders.
and then, like the largest stroke of whiplash, she meets adriana, a lovely lady from romania, standing at only 2ft 4inches, a sight her eyes struggle to adjust to after having just laid their gaze upon tom. she can’t help but think it’s some kind of show trickery, keeping them side by side so that the overall shock factor is that much larger.
next, she meets a group of young women, not much older than her, if at all. women from all over europe. maria and vittoria from italy, louise, jeanne, and catherine from france, and marta from germany. they make up the group of burlesque dancers, if their leotards were anything to go by.
finally, she meets jose and javier, two spanish boys that couldn’t be much older than 8, twin heads, sharing only one body. jose’s neck has been growing out of javier’s left shoulder since they were born. the complications of raising conjoined twins, with only one body mind you, was a struggle that their parents could not continue with. she learns that they were left abandoned in toddlerhood. a piece of information that was not easy to obtain seeing as they seem to love bantering and poking fun, making up riddles and playing games, not many serious sentences coming out of either of their mouths. although, really, what was she to expect ? they were so young after all.
sergey introduced himself a moment later, almost cutting off the twins, “if nobody jumps in, they’ll just keep babbling,” he laughs, getting up to shake her hand. sergey was born in russia, just a few years before her. she doesn’t seem to note any deformities just by looking at him, but she’s also not one to pry. and how could she ? s’not a good question to ask when you’re trying to make the best first impression. she does learn though, that he’s a master card dealer, and that no matter what, he will always win at any card game.
“i love a challenge,” she giggles, noting the glint in sergey’s eyes, as he adds, “can’t wait to see you try.”
“you love when someone new comes along, don’t you ?” adriana giggles.
“love the flash of an exciting challenge that flicks through everyone, yes,” sergey smiles smirkingly.
“we’ve all tried,” maria hums, turning her attention to ladybug, “more times than anyone can count. seriously, nobody can beat him.”
“i’d still like to try,” ladybug shrugs, “what do you do all day anyway ? when the show’s not happening, i mean.”
“lots of travel,” tom hums, patting the spot next to himself, “have a seat, don’t have to stand there all alone, join us for real.”
she furrows her eyebrows, because no she wasn’t alone, harry was right here with her. wasn’t he ?
as her gaze flicks as far back as she could without actually turning around, she notes that at some point, harry’s disappeared. he isn’t in the room at all anymore. she never heard him leave, never heard the door click, never noticed that his presence was missing. he never said goodbye, never excused himself. maybe he just needed a wee and he’ll be right back ?
better question, why is she so caught up in the fact that harry stepped away. he didn’t owe her anything, didn’t owe her an explanation. didn’t owe any of them an explanation. so she shakes the feeling out of her body, plopping herself down between tom and clara.
“we sleep mostly during the day,” catherine hums to answer her question, french accent present but fairly subdued, “s’a bit of an adjustment at first, but you do get used to it. it’s just easier that way since we’re usually rolling down the tracks while the sun is up.”
“we do all of our set up at night time,” clara jumps in. “it’s a nice way to surprise the town with our presence in the morning. then we sleep and prepare during the day, and do our show the next night. and so on, and so on,” she chuckles.
“it’s a lot more fun than it sounds when she lays it out like that, i promise,” louise smiles wide, significantly stronger accent than catherine. or was it jeanne ? fuck, she’s already unsure. she thinks those 6 burlesque girls will be incredibly difficult to differentiate. they all look so much alike. especially in their matching show outfits. she hasn’t really had the chance to hear them speak yet, but she’s betting it’ll be the only way to truly tell them apart. they all have brown eyes, more on the rounded side, their hair, also brown, slightly wavy and very long. honestly if it weren’t for their accents, she’d be ready to bet that they’re sextuplets.
“oh, no, it is fun !” clara laughs, “it takes a bit of adjusting at first, like catherine mentioned, switching your days with your nights and getting used to the constant travel, never really knowing where we are.”
“gotta listen to the accents,” sergey hums, “we’re in france tonight, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he adds playfully, earning a smack to the arm from clara.
“so, how was the meeting with harry ?” clara turns her attention to ladybug, everyone sporting different levels of smirks and sympathetic eyes. “was he an asshole ? i told him to tone that shit down.”
“actually, no,” she shrugs, “he was really sweet. i don’t know what you’re talking about at all. we just had a really nice, quiet chat. he kind of seemed to feel bad for me from time to time. really wanted to help me find my talent.”
“WHAT?” “fuckin guy” “THAT’S NOT FAIR, i want a redo” “what are you ? a witch ?”
“woah, woah,” she laughs, eyes growing wide, hands coming up in surrender, as everyone starts shouting at her.
“think our little harry has a crush on someone,” sergey smirks, everyone’s attention turning to him.
mental note, they might be a lovely bunch of respectful misfits, but they are not immune to gossip. in fact, they seem to be thriving on it right now. a little glimmer of fun and excitement in their otherwise fairly mundane lives.
adriana gasps excitedly, one of the french girls doing so as well, “it’s about time someone catches his attention. poor lad seems really lonely, doesn’t he ?”
the room buzzes with a simultaneous sad hum, a few people nodding along. marta breaks the silence, “it’s not like we haven’t all tried to make him less lonely,” she snickers playfully, suggestively, the ladies giggling along as if it was some kind of inside joke.
“c’mon love, you can’t be that blind to his charm,” sergey nudges her, “i’m not interested in men but i can say with complete certainty that harry’s absolutely gorgeous.”
she huffs out a laugh, feeling a slight blush rising to her cheeks, “well, i do have eyes.”
as people keep mingling around her, she takes a moment. a moment to absorb. a moment to appreciate. a moment to examine. a moment to come to terms with her new life. something she randomly stumbled upon. something that she joined on a whim, with the promise of family and love and belonging and caring. a judgment free zone for the rejects of the world.
for the first time in weeks, she feels a sense of normalcy. the adrenaline of being on the run, finally at bay. fuck, when did she become so tired ? her brain feels slow, heavy almost. with the threat of danger waning, her alertedness is no longer needed, her body understands that it can sleep again.
“the first night sleepies,” vittoria giggles, catching everyone’s attention, as she nods towards ladybug. “you’ve gone quiet, the excitement is over.”
her eyes grow wide, “n-no, it’s not like that,” she stammers, feeling bad for a moment. she should be more lively with them, make a good impression and all that.
“we know,” clara smiles, patting her thigh, vittoria jumping in quickly to add, “i didn’t mean it like that. we’ve all been there, on that first night, we know exactly how you’re feeling right now. we would not be offended if you wanted to sneak off to your space and sleep. don’t have to be shy around us.”
she contemplates that for a moment, because they really all are just understanding people. they don’t sweat the small stuff, the annoying societal rules, the stupid little formalities that make you miserable. like forcing yourself to stay awake because it would be the polite thing to do. it’s a breath of fresh air really. she thinks she’ll really like it here.
“oh, okay, yeah,” she shakes her head, “i don’t have a space yet though. nobody’s shown me anything. m’not really sure where to go from here.”
“christ, did harry not explain anything ?” tom asks, shaking his head.
“probably too busy making heart eyes at her,” javier laughs, the others joining, clearly enjoying a bit of playful fun at harry’s expense.
“c’mon, i’ll show you,” clara stands with her, both of the girls waving their goodbyes at everyone, clicking the door shut behind themselves.
“it’s down this way,” clara smiles, heading down the line of cars, “it’s the last one for now, hope that’s okay. when we reach the next destination, we’ll reorder the carts, have yours up with everyone else’s.”
“it’s fine, really,” she nods, “you’ve all gone so out of your way to make me feel welcome. comfortable.”
clara stops in front of the last cart, resting her hand softly on ladybug’s shoulder, “we’re not doing anything special. and i’m sorry that your life so far has made you believe that we are. but really, we’re just showing you the same respect that we got when we first joined, the same respect we’ve been waiting to feel all our lives.”
“it’s so easy. why can’t the world be like this ?” she ponders out loud. why couldn’t harry just be the leader of the world ? seems like it would be a pretty nice place for everybody.
“the world isn’t ready for it,” clara shrugs. “or that’s what i tell myself. that maybe we just have this different way of seeing things. but one day, in the far far future, i like to believe that people will be more understanding, more caring.”
“it’s definitely a nice thought,” she nods, biting her lip, “i like to think that maybe we’re all different because we’re meant to show them something. maybe they have a lesson to learn. one that can only come from change and differences.”
at that, clara smiles, a warm loving smile, one that almost feels sister like, “m’gonna like having you around. but for now, rest,” she hums, nodding towards the door. “it isn’t much yet, just a bed and a dresser bolted to the floor. but it is yours, and you can do what you please with it. it’s always fun to pick up little things wherever we go. make it more your own with time.”
“thank you clara,” she smiles wide, reaching out to wrap her arms around clara’s shoulders. a hug quickly received and reciprocated, a promise of home, locked into the arms of her new sister. “thank you for everything.”
as they pull away from the hug, clara gives her a playful shove towards the door, “right, now go, before you make me cry.”
ladybug laughs, wrapping her hand around the door handle, taking a deep breath, before opening it. upon looking around, clara was right, it wasn’t much. but it was hers. the first time she has a space.
she makes her way further into the small room, eyes gazing around each and every corner, her brain working tirelessly on overdrive, imagining all of the little things she wants to do with her space.
she’s not sure how long she’s been looking around, picturing brightly coloured curtains over the small window, drawings and paintings and art pieces of every kind lining the walls, trinkets from her adventures around euro-
“here.”
“fucking-“ she feels herself being jolted out of her body, startled into reality, noting harry standing in her room, holding out an envelope for her to take.
“sorry,” he murmurs quieter, eyes growing concerned for her, clearly in a state of distress, “did i scare you ?”
“christ, harry,” she puffs out between ragged breaths, hand on her chest, “how do you do that ?”
“do what ?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing, his hand dropping down to his side.
“you’re so quiet,” she exclaims. “never hear you coming or going.”
“i’m sorry,” harry laughs softly, face tilting down slightly, in a bashful way, “i’ll try to be louder for you.”
she breathes out a chuckle, shaking her head, “are you like a ghost something ?”
and at that, harry laughs louder, his turn to shake his head, “m’not a ghost, promise,” he smiles, stepping closer to her, patting her arm, as if to say, i’m very much here, “see ? m’as real as you are.”
“i’ll figure you out eventually,” she hums, raising her eyebrow, never having shied away from a challenge.
“or you could just ask,” harry smirks, raising his eyebrow right back at her.
“alright then,” she nods, “how do you do your trick ? how do you not show up in photos or in mirrors ?”
“s’something i’ve practiced for a long time,” he explains. leaving it at that. no real explanation. something that frustrates the living hell out of her.
she squints at him, nose slightly furrowed, “s’that how you answer all your questions ?”
harry takes a moment, eyes roaming her face, his heart somehow growing at the expression she holds. how was she so fuckin cute ? and why on earth does he think so ? hasn’t thought of anyone as “cute” in longer than he can remember.
“you’re feisty aren’t you ?” he giggles. actually giggles, and he wants to kick himself for it. but it’s when he sees her grow shy, gaze flicking down, blush rising on her cheeks, that’s when he really wants to kick himself.
harry’s finger tips reach out tentatively for her cheek, grazing her skin so delicately, giving her every chance to pull away if she’s uncomfortable. in contrast, he can feel her leaning into his touch, his fingertips gliding down to her jaw, to her chin, lifting her face, eyes stuck on his, “don’t ever lose that,” he murmurs.
and for a moment, they just stare at each other, his thumb softly strokes her skin, fingertips pressed under her chin. he can’t stop looking at her, and frankly he doesn’t want to. a feeling he doesn’t remember ever feeling. it wasn’t like she was going to complain, harry was breathtakingly gorgeous to look at. he was fairly pale, but really they all were, spending little to no time in the sunlight has its effects. his eyes were a piercing emerald green, chocolate curls atop his head, hair so shiny, she was dying to run her fingers through it.
and then harry’s hand left her chin, and his eyes flicked down, and the moment was over when he remembered his reason for being here in the first place, “brought you this,” he explains, holding out the envelope for her.
“what’s this ?” she hums quietly, still not fully recovered from her little stare down, voice a bit croaky.
“whenever someone new comes along, whoever can donate a little money, does so. s’just a bit to get on your feet before your first show. get yourself some food and some drinks, maybe even a little something for your room. s’real gloomy at first,” harry emphasizes by looking around the dark cart, placing the envelope in her hand.
her eyebrows furrow, because really ? she was content with waiting, just having a roof over her head was more than enough. but then she remembers her little talk with clara, about how different things were here, and she figures it’s something she’ll be able to pass along to another new comer some time. and that will feel nice. and honestly, so does this. the fact that they all already care about her enough to donate a little bit of what they have, just to help out, is incredibly heartwarming in itself.
“wow, yeah,” she nods, a bit agape, “that’s so sweet, thank you.”
harry smiles, “s’what family’s here for,” he hums, adding, “we’ll be moving soon, probably arriving at the next destination around nightfall. will you be okay until then ? do you need anything else ?”
“no, no, you’ve all been so great already,” she sighs happily, “i’m good, don’t worry about me, i’m exhausted anyway.”
he nods, knowing all too well about the first night sleepies as they’ve all started calling it, “right, well i wont keep you,” he smiles, heading for the door, “there’s a joke to be made about beg bugs, but instead i’ll just go with, sweet dreams, little bug.”
and before she even has the time to respond, he’s gone, the door shut behind him. with a little chuckle to herself about the joke, rolling her eyes and laying in bed. in her bed. she did it, she made it.
Part 6
……
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
tags : @daphnesutton @niallthebadboi @gorlsinmultifandoms @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @cc-horan28
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles writing#harry styles x mc#harry styles series#harry styles masterlist#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#one direction#hs#writings#justmeinatree
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deep End - Chapter 18: She Who Rules the Sea
...in which Ezi and Harry go back to where it started.
AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.
WARNING: MATURE THEMES
All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist
Read on Wattpad
.
.
.
“Good morning, Harry.”
“Oh, Dawson, you’re still here?”
“Harry, please,” Ezi sighed as she carried the plates of steaming bacon and eggs to the table, joining Dawson and Maggie. Maggie was too busy reading the morning newspaper with her cup of tea to pay attention to the weird dynamic between Harry and Dawson, which Ezi failed to understand no matter how hard she tried. Dawson seemed to love Harry even though Harry claimed that it was all fake and that Dawson lowkey prayed for his downfall.
“How was your sleep?” Harry asked as he took a seat beside Ezi, glaring at Dawson, who was sitting on her other side.
“It was alright,” said Ezi. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Do not worry about me. You sit there and enjoy your breakfast, young lady. Dawson?”
Dawson looked up from his plate. “Yeah?”
“Could you make me a cup of tea?” Harry commanded.
“Why do I have to do it?”
“Because you already got your bacon and eggs and I just want a cup of tea?”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit sometimes, you know that?”
“For fuck’s sakes!” Maggie exclaimed and all eyes were on her as she put the newspaper down and got up. “I’ll make you tea, insufferable child. What else do you want? A full English breakfast?”
“Oooh, that would be gre—” Harry’s mouth clamped shut when Maggie shot him a death glare. “Tea would be fine. Thanks, Maggie.”
Shaking her head, Maggie put the kettle on. Harry turned back to Ezi, smiling. “No bad dreams last night, I hope?”
Ezi was just about to answer when Dawson jumped in, “Actually, she couldn’t sleep and went into the kitchen for water. I was there because I couldn’t sleep either, so we stayed up and chatted for a bit. It was nice.”
Harry seemed offended. “Oh, why couldn’t you sleep, Dawson?”
“Strange bed.”
“What are you? Five?”
“Said the one who was still pissing his pants at five years old.”
“Hey, I was four!”
Ezi buried her face into her palm. Oh god, couldn’t Maggie hurry up with that cup of tea? Harry was always unbearable before his morning tea.
“What were you two talking about anyway?” he asked, eyes shifting between Ezi and Dawson, who had this smug look on his face, seemingly happy to have pissed Harry off. Ezi must admit that pissing Harry off was also her favourite past-time, but not the first thing in the morning, when he was the most annoying.
“Oh, nothing really,” she said. “Dawson just had a lot of questions about sirens and all that.”
“Harry, here’s your tea, you little shit.”
When Maggie handed Harry his steaming cup, his face lit up instantly. Breakfast carried on without any more drama. Still, Ezi couldn’t help dreading what was about to come.
Once they were done eating and had cleared the table, Maggie lay out a huge map that took up almost the entire surface, and everyone gathered around like they were in some sort of war meeting.
“Funny how you just have this gigantic map lying around,” Harry said, standing behind Ezi with his chin on the top of her head as if to make sure Dawson got the message. Childish, Ezi thought, but she couldn’t be bothered to tell him off, and she was secretly enjoying it too.
“It’s not like I work in a bookshop or anything,” Maggie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Anyway, Harry, I would appreciate it if you don’t speak for the next fifteen minutes.”
Dawson let out a low chuckle, and Harry silenced him with a glare.
“Okay, so,” said Maggie, hands on the map, “this is the deepest part of the ocean. The Ginevra palace lies at the bottom of the ocean, and it’s connected to this cave…here.”
“Sorry, I know I’m not allowed to speak, but wasn’t that where we first met?” Harry turned to Ezi, who nodded.
“Yes. Correct. So your beach house was right…here.” She tapped her finger on the map.
“We need to get Ezi back to the palace, and we can do so through this cave,” said Maggie.
“But Ezi doesn’t have her tail anymore.” All eyes shifted to Dawson, who froze. “Sorry, am I allowed to speak? I know I’m new here.”
“No, you’re not allowed to speak.”
“Harry.” Ezi nudged Harry with her elbow and to Dawson, she smiled. “Good point, Dawson. But I think I just need to get to that cave and I can call for my mother or sister to appear.”
“They will know when you’re there anyway. The Sea Queen keeps track of all of her subjects. Besides, they are after this, remember?” Maggie said, pointing at Harry’s chest.
Fear formed a thick lump in Ezi’s throat as she tried to swallow it down. She looked over at Harry, expecting some sort of reaction from him, but his calm expression remained, which troubled her even more. She wondered if he was just pretending like he was fine because he wanted to appear brave and unafraid for her, whilst deep down, he was very much afraid.
“We can use my private jet to get to the island,” she heard him say when she snapped out of her own head. “It’s bad for the environment, but we’re all dying anyway.”
“You’re dying. We still have a long way to go.”
“Maggie,” complained Ezi, and Maggie rolled her eyes.
“He just talks a lot of shit sometimes.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said, sarcastically. “I’m the only one here beside Ezi who has the right to talk shit. The Sea Queen wants to rip my heart out because I’m in love with her daughter.”
“Allegedly,” Ezi murmured, eyes on the map, but she could imagine Harry frowning.
“Whether you like it or not, I love you and your mother wishes to kill me.”
“Can we do this another time?” Maggie interrupted. “Harry, call your ride.”
“Oh, I already did. Niall’s on his way.”
“Niall?” exclaimed Ezi. “You told Niall about this.”
“Well, he doesn’t know you’re a mythical creature. He thinks we’re fleeing the country because everyone thinks you’re a gold digger and I’m a fool. So we’re like Harry and Meghan in a way.”
“What? Who’s Meghan?”
“If we make it out alive, I’ll educate you on the royal family. Ours is even more fucked up than yours. Oh, Niall just texted me.” Harry pulled out his phone and his face transformed into a scowl. “He said he’s stuck in traffic and wants us to take the tube???”
Ezi shivered as she recalled the first and last time she was on the tube. It wasn’t fun as it sounded. “I’m not riding the tube. It’s smelly and hot.”
“Pretty sure there’s a train strike and TFL wouldn’t care if Harry Styles and his friends were on their way to save a kingdom.”
“Or just get a cab?” Dawson finally spoke after being silent the whole time.
Everyone exchanged looks and unenthusiastically agreed.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Ezi didn’t know how they’d done it. The airport was now crowded with reporters with their cameras flashing. It didn’t take them long to surround the taxi like a shiver of sharks cornering prey. Dawson was sitting in the passenger’s seat, calmly guiding the driver through the crowd, while Maggie, who sat beside Ezi in the backseat was bouncing her knee with a horrified look on her face. It was probably her first time in this situation.
“Fucking hell,” Harry muttered when his ringtone went off again. He pressed answer and shouted to Niall, “We’re here. Would you chill, for fuck’s sake?”
Niall’s voice was loud yet muffled over the phone, “I just wanted to warn you that someone overheard me talking to you on the phone, and the paparazzi–”
“We’ll deal with them. Are you waiting at the gate?”
“Yup.”
“Alright. See you in a minute,” Harry said and hung up while Niall was in the middle of shouting something. When he grabbed Ezili’s hand and squeezed, camera lights exploded in his concentrated green eyes, like flashes of memories, and she could see them going back to that night at his mother’s place where he’d saved her from his cousin. “Stay right behind me,” his voice was a whisper.
She nodded, clutching his hand as he opened the door, ducked his head, and stepped out. All around was a cacophony of screams, whispers, camera shutters, and honking of angry drivers trying to make their way through.
“Harry, Harry, is it true that you two are fake dating for PR?”
“Harry, is she your cousin?”
“Lady, are you using Harry for his money?”
Ezi ignored those reporters as she kept her head hung and followed Harry’s guide. She focused on the different types of shoes and their many colours, and for a moment, she felt as if her soul had left her body, and she was just a shell, being moved through the crowd. That was until a hard force shoved her to the side, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s fast reflex, she would have fallen. Her injuries tingled in the worst way, and she bit down on her lip as the pain wavered to her brain. But before she could react, Harry’s voice startled her. One of his hands was holding her shoulder, the other caught the fat man’s collar and shook him hard. “You lay your hands on my girlfriend again, and I’ll smack your head in, you prick.”
The man started apologising to Ezi as two airport security guards showed up and escorted them inside safely.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Maggie didn’t get on the plane with them. Ezi supposed that she didn’t want to relive her trauma by going back, but she wished Maggie was here so she didn’t have to feel so awkward sitting in silence with these men.
Well, with Harry at least. Dawson sat across the aisle and seemed unbothered as he made up some sophisticated lie to Niall about how they’d finally found Ezi’s family, so they were taking her to them. Niall being Niall, didn’t question much and was just enthusiastic to be included. Harry, on the other hand, was sitting opposite of Ezi in silence as he gazed out of the window, chin in his hand.
Fingers fidgeting in her lap, Ezi rolled her tongue a few times before she found the courage to speak. “Thank you,” she said, and his eyes shifted to her. “For…earlier.”
He gave a small smile. “Told you I’d protect you.”
When it came to her mother, however, she doubted he would be able to say that. Still, she appreciated his intention.
“You okay?” she asked when the silence returned. Everyone had been asking her if she was okay, but it was Harry the question should be directed to. It was his heart that her mother wanted…no, his life.
Thoughtfully, he pursed his lips. “Hmmm, I don’t know. Feels weird. On the one hand, I’m glad that I can do something for you. On the other hand, I’m being hunted by the fucking Sea Queen. That’s scary, but also an honour.”
Together, they laughed like they were just discussing a movie and not their reality.
“So you were angry at me for wanting to kill you, but it’s an honour when my mother does it?” said Ezi.
“I was angry because you lied to me actually. It made me wonder if any of it was real.”
“I wondered the same thing when you told me I would never be human.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
She paused. “I know that now.”
“Good,” he said. “Do you want to be human?” he asked. “When this is all over, of course.”
Ezi shrugged. “If only you survived.”
His lips twitched as he appreciated the humour. “I mean, I have no choice. Someone has to take care of my cat, and Niall would be a terrible cat dad.” He locked eyes with her for a beat. “And you, too, of course. I’ll have to survive for you.”
“Deal,” she said, hoping it’d be true.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
This was how Harry died, trapped in this tiny beach cave. Clearly, a death by the Sea Queen story would sound much cooler, and it was the only motivation for him not to die here, at least for now. The entrance of the cave was so small, hardly more than a gap in the rock. Ezi was leading the group, followed by him, then Dawson. They had left Niall at Harry’s beach house and made him busy with the iPad. That wholesome image made Harry feel less afraid as they treaded through the water, with only a phone as a torch guiding the way. Two-thirds of the tunnel was filled with black water, and the other with sand that made his shoes sink with every step, and they didn’t want to risk going barefoot in case rocks or something sharp lurked beneath the surface.
The deeper they went in, the darker it got. The space they squirmed through was damp and smelled like dead things the sea had claimed, and the ceiling came down so close that they had to crawl now. Just when it seemed like the darkness would swallow them up, Harry saw a weak gleam ahead. Now they could stand to his full height once again. They had arrived in an open space that was as big as the size of the dining room in his mother’s manor. It looked like the sort of place pirates would hide their treasure and Greek heroes would come to fight a monster.
In the soft light from the algae growing on the walls, Harry recognised this cave. The first time Ezi had “rescued” him from the storm, she’d taken him here.
“Don’t go any further,” Ezi commanded, and they came to a halt. “The deep end is just right past those rocks. From there, just keep diving and you’ll eventually reach the palace, but I don’t think any of us will manage to get there with our human lungs.”
“So what’s the plan again?” Harry asked.
Dawson, who still seemed appalled by the whole situation, sucked in a deep breath. “Ezi will get into the water as bait.”
“No, they’ll kill her.”
“They have to keep her alive,” Dawson said. “They need the heart of a man who’s in love with a siren. If she died, it probably wouldn’t work.”
“On, please, you just found out sirens existed like five minutes ago. Don’t act like an expert.”
“Harry, you’re just talking out of your arse now–”
“Excuse m–”
“Guys, stop, please!” Ezi exclaimed, her voice echoing within the cave. “I’m going into the water. I know the water environment better than you all. I’ll try to get Mother or Koa to come up here and negotiate.” Harry opened his mouth but she shushed him immediately. “Harry, do you trust me?”
“Ezi–”
“Yes or no?”
The light in the cave gleamed in her eyes, softening his heart.
Forcefully, he nodded. “Alright. But come up as soon as you sense danger.”
As usual, she had this hardened look on her face like she was the toughest person in the world, the undead, immortal, but all Harry could see was a fragile young girl who was very much afraid. He wished he could give her a hug or took her back to his beach house where they could start over from day one. Instead, he watched nervously as she shrugged off her jacket and kicked off her shoes, preparing for her dive.
Suddenly, something grabbed his ankle and pulled him into the water.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Harry was there, then he was gone, swallowed by the black liquid. As afraid as Ezi was of the water, she was more afraid of letting Harry be taken. She rushed forward. Behind her, Dawson shouted, ‘No!’ but she ignored him. It was a good leap and when she broke the surface, it felt like a shock, as if she had been struck by lightning, and her heart would explode.
As she began to sink, she just kept going down, down, and down. The water was cold, cold, cold, even colder than she’d remembered. She thought she might just drown and made no effort to save herself. Her limbs felt so heavy, so sluggish, and it took every bit of willpower she got to gather her wits before she died then and there. She trod water, halted her descent to get her bearings, and stared into the depths below her. She was half-looking for Harry, half-looking for a siren. The liquid was a strange green from here, turgid barely seeming to move despite her thrashing, but at last she saw something below her, a pale blur, struggling weakly, increasingly weakly. She duck-dived, kicked, and pressed further into the icy dark.
Harry seemed to plummet, heavier than he should be, or perhaps pulled but Ezi could see nothing that gripped him. At last, she got a grip of his fingers, his palm, his wrist. Her human lungs were burning. Harry’s eyes were glazing over, the lids beginning to drop.
No, stay with me, she thought, emotions welling in her throat.
Harry’s hair like dark smoke around his bloodless white face as she pulled him hard toward her and clasped him to her chest. He was too far gone to hold onto her, so she had to swim single-handed, kicking like a frog. She wanted to look behind to ensure nothing was following them, but she didn’t. Concentrate, Ezi, said the voice inside her head, come on, up.
It was then that she felt a shudder through the water, like it was shivering from its own frigidity. Something yanked Harry back, dragging Ezi down with him, hard and fast. She spun her head around, panicked. And there was her sister in full siren form, fangs baring.
Koa looked into Ezi’s eyes and said something that Ezi couldn’t hear yet understood.
Welcome home, sister.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles x mc#harry styles concept#harry styles series
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Curse breaker vs Auror]
They want each other so bad 😫
Let's say that, by orders of Mad Eye Moody, they had to start working together after a few years without seeing each other and having ended their relationship at Hogwarts in a not very friendly way.
Now they both must learn to work as a team again and well, what we already know comes after that 🥴
#hphm#hogwarts mystery#harry potter hogwarts mystery#hphm mc#my art#hphm fanart#heaven chrysomallis#hphm oc#hphm talbott winger#talbott winger x mc#hphm talbott#hogwarts mystery talbott#talbott winger#fanart#game fanart#hphm headcanon#my style#artists on tumblr#illustration#art#digital drawing
241 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reaper 4
Hello my loves! Here is part 4 to Reaper! Pleaseeee let us know what you think!
WC:9.4k
Warnings: violence(some detailed), angst, mention of panic attack, stalking, blood, asshole Harry, etc!
Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!
————
Today started off just like any other day for Bunny.
She and Harry had a bit of a morning routine that blossomed in the days they’d spent together. They’d wake up around the same time and Harry would silently pad into the kitchen and make her a cup of tea before she came to cook the two of them breakfast.
Since their moment in the kitchen, there was an unspoken tension that made every interaction that much more exciting. Y/N had of course been on her best behavior, not wanting to risk anything. Not even allowing herself to give him an extra kiss when he dropped her off at class.
Today was different though.
Harry had some business to take care of at the shop so he escorted her to class on his bike while she drove in her car. He’d told her a prospect was going to be there after class to follow her around town while she ran any errands she had been putting off and that he would meet her at the clubhouse at 6.
The news had left her slightly disappointed, but she knew she couldn’t be greedy with his time and attention no matter how needy she’d been feeling these past few days. She’d see him in the evening— it was the weekend as well. Y/N just needed to toughen up. She used to do this alone, didn’t she?
So naturally, when Y/N saw a pink post-it note stuck to her stirring wheel she thought it was a note from Harry. She had thought he wanted to surprise her, leave her with something since she wouldn’t be getting her after-school kiss.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Don’t you like playing with me, Y/N? You shouldn’t have betrayed me, you’re not safe with that scumbag. It’s okay, you’ll learn.
Ps. Thank you for the gift. You smell divine.”
Suddenly there was no air to breathe in her car. She checked the backseat and instantly locked the doors, the most unsettling feeling overcame her stomach. She couldn’t stop reading the note over and over.
He’d gotten into her car without setting off the alarm. Without the prospect seeing him. He’d been here, watching her with Harry.
With shaky hands, she reached for her phone, not even sure if she’d be able to get a word out, but she knew she had to call him. She promised she would.
“H-Harry…” Bunny didn’t realize she had started crying. “H-he,” Her breaths came out heavily, “he was in my car.”
Harry had picked up the phone, thinking it was her usual check-in. He had been finishing up paperwork in the office, sending invoices when he heard her ringtone and picked the phone up.
Immediately he knew something was wrong. Her cries had filled his ear and raised the alarm bells, but when what she said hit him, he stood up.
“What do you mean he was in your car?” He said lowly, walking towards the door. “What happened? When?” His head was spinning. Of course, they’d wanted to lure him out and catch him- but he hadn’t planned on boldness like this.
“There’s- there’s a note and he knows we’re together. He was in here, Harry. He took my chapstick. It was locked, it was locked and I had the key the whole time.” She stuttered, her sniffles infuriating him.
“Where the fuck is Cricket?” He snarled, stalking down the stairs from his office. Everyone in the garage turned and looked away from him as they knew that stomp wasn’t anything good. Harry felt rage burning in his gut- the prospect was supposed to be watching the car, watching her. Keeping an eye out. He should have approached, taken photos, anything except be silent.
“I don’t know. I don’t see his bike.” She said, sobering as she realized- he had left. The prospect had left her alone and in danger, she hadn’t been safe the whole time.
“He left?” Harry stopped as he got to his bike, the hot rage boiling in his blood. “He…. Fuck.” He hissed, throwing his leg over his bike. “Lock the doors, now. Stay in that car. Don’t open the door for anyone, and don’t touch the note. Stay there, Bunny. Do you understand me?” His snarl wasn’t the most comforting thing but right now all he could focus on was the anger. The panic in his chest. She had been left alone. Thank god she had gotten to her car unscathed, but what if she hadn’t?
It would be his fault. His fault for leaving an idiot prospect in charge of her. Viper had told him he had been capable and while he was a little immature, could handle a task like that.
He would be very regretful he left his post when Reaper got his hands on him.
“I’m on my way.” His cold tone was cut by the roar of his bike coming on. “Do as I said. Don’t fucking move.”
She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
She was frozen, body still in shock. Before she had been able to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, brush things off, but this was real. She couldn’t deny this, there was no other answer. He made it loud and clear.
The only thing that was keeping her grounded at the moment were the hot tears that trickled down her cheeks. What was she going to do? Who’s to say he wasn’t watching her now? What if he had a tracker? A camera?
It was hard to keep herself relaxed when all she could do was sit still and wait. The silence in the car was deafening, blocking all the sound from outside, all she could hear was the sound of her heart drilling in her ears.
Harry broke what he was sure were a lot of traffic laws trying to get to him, the internal rage building and building as the ride got closer. Usually riding made his anger dwindle, at least to an acceptable level- but with the idea of Bunny in danger?
It only made it worse.
His vision was tinted in red. For this creep who was stalking her, for Cricket, for himself. He couldn’t just trust anyone with her. No one without a patch was watching her from now on. The fucker better have been dying to have left his post, and even that wasn’t something he would be happy about accepting.
His bike tore into the parking lot, the loud roar of it turning a few heads as he appeared right next to her car. The helmet was ripped off of his head, tossed to the side as he got off.
“Open the door.”
Y/N jumped up a bit, having zoned out in a spiral of thoughts. She felt relieved that Harry was here, but right now he wasn’t the Harry she had grown comfortable with. This Harry looked like he was about to rip someone’s head off.
Clicking the button she let him pull open the door, not wanting to touch the handle in case there were any prints on it. However, if this man could break into her car without setting off the alarm she was sure he was smart enough to rid the car of any evidence.
Wiping her face quickly she locked eyes with him, trying to find some kind of comfort in them but all she managed to find was rage. Sure it wasn’t directed at her, but all she needed right now was a hug.
“Let me see the note.” He placed his hand over her shoulder, lowering his head to dip into the car. Her tears only infuriated him more.
Her shaky hand handed the note to him, watching his eyes scan over the handwriting. It disgusted him. Enraged him. Took everything in him to not rip it or crumble it up, instead tucking it into his pocket as his hand shook with the anger. He was having a hard time controlling himself.
“I can’t wait to send this fucker to hell.” He spit, clutching her car door as he scanned the parking lot. “I don’t know where Cricket went, but trust me, he will be dealt with. We need… we need to get to the fucking clubhouse.” He looked down at her. “Are you okay to drive?”
He would leave his bike here for now if need be. His head was scrambled and not right. When Harry got angry like this, he had a one-track mind, and it was focused on revenge. Finding this guy. “Need to get Wiz to scan your car for a tracker again. And I need to warn Viper that the prospect is going to be hospitalized at the very fucking least, and stripped of his consideration.”
“Drive?” She asked almost as if she didn’t believe he was asking her the question. Y/N was not in the state to drive. She was barely in a state to think, not having registered much of what Harry was saying to her.
“N-no, I wanna go home.”
It was the first time she had ever asked him for something, but she just wanted to feel safe again. Bunny thought her house was safe, it wasn’t. Thought her classes were safe, in public, they weren’t. Her car wasn’t safe now either. The only place she felt safe was at Harry’s, with him there.
Y/N wasn’t sure what answer to expect from him, but she was hoping he wouldn’t give her the same tone he had been speaking to her with. It was so unfamiliar, it felt like it wasn’t meant for her to hear.
“I know you do.” He said lowly. “But we need to get ahead of this shit, Y/N.”
Using her name like that seemed to make her upset but he was too irritated with the situation to clock it at the current moment. The red rage had been running up in his body and he was blinded by the need to take care of the logistical things first.
“Move to the passenger side.” He moved to his bike, not giving her the option to talk back as he grabbed his shit from the saddle bags and shoved it into her backseat. His irritation was palpable, his jaw sore from how hard he had been clenching but he needed it. He needed her to be safe and he needed to take revenge for her.
She was quiet as he sat down in the driver's seat, starting it up and backing out with a vengeance. He knew he was being a bit reckless but he wanted them out of there. He had a feeling that the fucker was waiting in the shadows, watching. He felt it on the back of his neck when he arrived.
Y/N wished she never left the bed this morning, but she knew that this was inevitable. The shoe had dropped and any happiness she had found in the past few days had been snatched up from under her. She was naive to believe it wouldn’t happen so quickly, it left her feeling even more helpless than she had when she first called Harry.
The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way of him finding the man who did this, but what would happen to her in the process? She had already caught herself getting nervous whenever she was outside of the house, already feeling paranoid even in the safety of Harry’s home.
She thought it was normal considering the spot she was in and Harry had been such a good at distraction. She was stupid to think that he would be attentive when it came to her feelings. To assume he could read her in times like these. It wasn’t in his nature. She knew that.
Bunny couldn’t stop toying with the zipper of her bag, unraveling the strings stitched into the fabric, mindlessly staring into a point in the dashboard. She wouldn’t feel anything if she just shut it off for a bit.
-
Pulling up to the clubhouse, he could still feel his rage simmering. Like in a pot ready to boil over, but trying his hardest not to go full on because Bunny was in the car.
“You’re safe here.” He reminded her as he turned off the car, looking at her. She looked a bit pale for her complexion, a little sickly, but he imagined she was probably upset too. He would deal with it later, and figure out how to make her feel safer. Right now? He was on a mission.
One of the traits Harry knew he had was a one-track mind. He wanted to get ahead of this before it got worse, wanted to find the man. There were cameras in the parking lot and he hoped Wiz could figure out how to hack into them.
His hand wrapped around Bunny’s stiff one as he nearly dragged her into the clubhouse, the slam of the door alerting the brothers that were here that he had arrived. And he wasn’t happy.
“Someone better fucking tell me that Cricket is dead.” He said lowly. “And if he isn’t? He will be soon.” His voice was ice, frosting up the room as the other prospects stiffened up. “No more patchless fuckers watching my girl. Where the fuck is Viper?”
“Right here, brother.” The tall man walked into the room with a brow raised, arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck’s your problem?” He asked, looking between Reaper and Bunny. “You okay, little rabbit?” His demeanor softened as he could see she was in a state, but Harry beat her to it.
“Course she fucking isn’t. Cricket fucked off and the creep left a note in her car. Her locked car.” He snarled. “Where is Wiz? I need him to check the cameras and her fucking car to make sure the son of a bitch hasn’t put shit on it.” He felt like a caged dog, nowhere to put this aggression he felt. “Just letting you know, the kid is getting his ass kicked. Hope to fuck he doesn’t show up here again.”
Viper agreed with Harry on this one. The club had vowed to protect their own and Bunny was their top priority— if anyone left her in danger, prospect or not, they’d be punished.
The club was used to seeing Harry in this state, to them, this was perfectly normal and they handled him with ease. They knew what not to say and how to say things the right way to keep him as relaxed as they could, but no one could ever curb his aggression.
“I’ll send Wiz out now.” Viper nodded, knowing better than to tell the Reaper to calm down though he wanted to for the sake of the girl standing beside him. There had been a few occasions where they had tried to contain him, but each time ended in hospital visits… that one time, death.
It was better not to get in his way when he saw red. Once his mind was set on someone, they rarely made it out alive. He fought to kill. It’s why they called him Reaper.
“Wait- Cricket?” Bulldog raised a brow. “The boy’s in one of the rooms out back. Brought a girl back- probably doing god knows what. Didn’t know he was supposed to be on duty for Bunny.”
Harry’s head whipped to the side, looking at Bulldog with his cold eyes. Bunny, unlike the rest of them, was not used to seeing this from him. As much as she knew he wasn’t ever going to harm her? It was a bit scary. The temperature in the room went down a few degrees as she looked at him.
So beautiful, so so angry. He was like a carved marble statue with his sharp lines and hard eyes, the only indications he wasn’t being the stubble and the scars.
“He left post for some fucking pussy?” He hissed, breathing picking up. His face was something she hadn’t ever seen, a new side of him. “Viper? Will you keep Bunny company for a moment?” He asked, the red clouding his vision again.
“Sure, brother.” He gently motioned for her to come over to him, though when Harry stalked off wordlessly she went to follow. “No, no. You don’t want to see him like that, little rabbit. Trust me.”
Harry was ruthless, and there was supposed to be a pact in this brotherhood. Had she gotten physically harmed? Harry would kill him.
The metal door swung open with a bang, the sound of a girl’s shriek was the last thing Y/N heard when she and Viper turned the corner.
Harry was snarling, eyes zeroing in on the motherfucker he’d left to take care of his precious Bunny. He walked over and used his last speck of patients on the young woman before him.
“If you give a fuck about your mental health, get out of here.” He commanded, breath still heavy and laced with anger. Harry knew she had nothing to do with this, this cocky prospect thought he could reap the benefits of the club having shit to show for it.
The girl simply nodded and ran towards the door, snatching her clothes up from the floor on the way out.
“You leave my woman for some pussy?” He said lowly. Harry could feel some of his brothers come up from behind him, knowing they’d pull him off when he’s had enough- but seeing the shocked look on the man’s face really didn’t help. He scrambled up from the bed and backed up as Harry stalked towards him.
“Left her all alone while the fucking creep following her left notes in her car?” He tilted his head, irritation floating through his system. “Decided to be a selfish fuck and abandon your post that Viper assigned you, have the Fuckin’ balls to come back and use a room you aren’t even patched in to use?” His hand wrapped around the man’s throat, not caring about his lack of clothing besides boxers.
“I- I didn’t think it would be a big deal!” He squeaked like a stupid rat, Harry’s hand slamming him up against the wall. “No one has shown up for days!”
“That’s what we wanted, you worthless piece of shit.” Harry spit. “The freak got into my woman’s car. Left her a note. Went through her shit. Had the time to do that because you found some subpar pussy and fucked off. You think you’re going to get patched in now?” His humorless laugh echoed in the room.
“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again-” he choked as Harry’s grip on his throat tightened. The man was terrifying, eyes so dark they didn’t even look the green they usually were. They all had a clue where he got his road name from, but being in the Reaper’s warpath was not something anyone wanted.
“You think…” He tightened, “I give,” tighter, “a fuck?” Harry watched as the man squirmed, his face changing color from the lack of oxygen. “You’re lucky that I’m even letting you breathe again.” Harry spat in the man’s face, only then letting go.
He moved his hand to grab the back of Cricket’s head by his hair, slamming his face into the wall with one swift movement. He picked his head back up only to repeat the motion, chuckling as the man groaned in pain.
“How pathetic. You think this is some hot shot club? Isn’t a fucking game?” Harry pulled his head back again, the man screaming in his grip.
“I kill people like you every day. I don’t care.” He pulled him back, tugging roughly at his hair before throwing him over the back of the bed.
Harry knew he needed to get out of there before he killed the guy, he already struggled with letting go when he was choking him.
Bunny could hear the screams, sitting stiffly at the bar as Viper handed her some water.
“Don’t focus on that.” He said quietly, breaking her focus. “The good news is, if there are any cameras nearby, Wiz will be able to get into the feed and we’ll have eyes on him. I’m sorry though.” He sighed.
The older man obviously felt bad that she had to go through shit like this. And the fact Reaper was being… Reaper.
“My car was locked.” She said quietly, swirling her straw around the water. “I double-check every single day. Even before this, I locked it. I don’t know how he could have gotten in.” It was something she was focusing on.
“Unfortunately there are ways, darlin’. That’s why we’re gonna make sure you aren’t unattended today. We don’t allow people like that in the club. They can do what they want on their own time… but abandoning a post, watching a brother’s woman for some….” He paused. “Sex? It’s fucked up. No other way to put it. Can’t blame Reaper for taking care of him.”
“Will he kill him?” Y/N peeped quietly, unsure if she wanted to know the answer. She was aware he had said he had before but hearing it and being near where it potentially could be happening were two different things. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“Nah. He probably wants to but it isn’t worth it to him. The feds, all of that. If the creep had gotten to you physically, yeah. I’d probably help him. But he’s just getting kicked out and his ass kicked.”
Y/N could understand why Viper was the boss now. He was level-headed, stuck to his morals, knew how to handle people. She was already feeling better than she had when she arrived, but now a different feeling was creeping in.
Viper’s eyes shifted to look behind her just as she felt a presence coming up from behind.
Harry didn’t want to touch her, not when his hand were covered in blood. Instead, he shuffled past them to the sink, washing his hands as tried to ground himself from his rage.
He was still breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his body. Harry really would have done severe brain damage if the guys hadn’t pulled him off. Fucker learned his lesson. Would never show up or snitch. For his sake, Harry hoped he knew better.
Bunny busied herself with drinking water, making herself small in the seat in hopes that he would pity her in this state.
He looked feral.
She had never seen him like this. Washing blood off of his hands, heavy breathing, stiff as a board. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, try and comfort him- but she knew better.
There was no comfort from this. He was angry and it radiated off of him in waves.
“Did Wiz find anything?” He grunted.
“Wiz did, thank you very much.” The man himself walked in, glasses perched on his nose as he placed the laptop on the bar in front of Bunny. Harry crowded behind her, hovering over her with his arm leaning on the wood top.
The footage began to play. A man, thin and willowy approached the car. A hood and mask disrupted the look, making sure that you couldn’t make out his full face. He took out a key fob and clicked it, opening her car.
“Do you have two keys?” Wiz asked. “I know the dealer will offer a spare and I’m just assuming that maybe since he had gotten into your home, he found it.” She could tell it looked something very similar to hers. But with the grainy footage, he couldn’t tell.
“Yeah…” Y/N sighed, realizing where she had the key stored away. “In my ma’s beside table.” The thought made her feel physically ill. This guy had snooped not just in her room but her mothers?
This man was stooping to new lows with every item of information she learned about him.
“W-what else do you think he has?” Bunny asked, “I really don’t want her getting hurt—“ She had already told her mother about the situation back when she first moved to Harry’s. It’s a shame her mother understood far too well.
Her dad was once a Devil’s Keeper too.
“We can come around and arrange new security for your place, can get Saw to install some new locks, and maybe even get those windows properly secured.” Viper offered up with no hesitation. “We won’t let either of you get hurt, little rabbit. We’re taking care of her too.”
“It’s not her he’s after,” Harry grunted, flexing his hands. They stung a little but it was numbed by the information he just got. He had a key to her damn car.
“No more of your car. You’ll take one of mine.” He decided then and there. “We’ll leave it here.” They could have someone drop them off at home and he’d get Bulldog to grab his bike for him and drive it back.
When she looked at him, he expected an argument. “No arguments. If he can get in there, he can hide in the back. We can’t do that, Y/N.” Again, her real name. It felt so impersonal it made her recoil, the harshness of his tone. Like he had been expecting her to be sassing him and fighting it.
“Relax, Reaper. I know you’re worked up but you’ve got to remember who you’re talking to.” Viper warned. Harry did not listen. Instead, he walked off to find keys for one of their cars. His headspace was not one of comfort right now. It was of rage and coming down from a beating he wished could have been a murder. But whatever.
“Let’s go. We’re going home.” Harry muttered as if it was an order, waiting for Bunny to start walking towards the garage. He didn’t need viper on his case now too.
Y/N bit her tongue. Giving a look to viper that signaled she’d be alright and began walking towards the garage without paying any attention to Harry. It was not time for snarky remarks and being a brat— she knew she wouldn’t be happy with anything he said while in this headspace.
So she sat silently the entire ride home, letting Harry calm down while the faint sounds of deftones came through the speakers.
What was he thinking? Was he so blinded by his rage that he forgot all that they were? Or was this him showing his true colors? Y/N didn’t want to think the worst of him, for a long time, she had been the only one fighting his corner besides Sterling. Maybe he just didn’t realize it.
—-
They arrived back at his place, Harry shuffling her inside before arming the security system. He was irritated and tired and he needed a fucking shower desperately.
“Please go eat something.” His tone had softened its bite, but he was still in his own head. “I’m taking a shower. I’ll be back.”
His thoughts were focused on the creep. The man stalking her. How he could ruin him, end up. Beating up Cricket hadn't even quenched his thirst for how badly he wanted to ruin him, how he wanted to make him suffer. He wanted him to feel even more terrified than Bunny had been.
The phone call had sent panic up his spine. Knowing she was vulnerable with that man… wasn’t part of the plan. Sure, they were trying to draw him out. But not when she was unprotected.
He let the shower relax some of his muscles as the sweat, grease and leftover blood swirled down the drain leaving his skin bare. His hands flexed, seeing the new bruises and wounds but not really caring. He would take on worse to take vengeance.
The steamy bathroom was his hiding place for a few minutes as he got ready to go back out there. To see Bunny. The guilt he felt wallowed up in his throat, knowing that he hadn’t pushed harder for better people to protect her. The softness of his sweatpants moved up his leg, he plotted how to proceed. How she wasn’t going to like that he wanted to keep her under even more strict protection.
In all honesty, Bunny didn’t know what to think.
She couldn’t remember when exactly he started talking to her, the sound of her own thoughts far too loud to register the sound of Harry’s low rumble.
“Are you listening?” He asked, his shift in tone snapping Y/N out of her bubble.
“Sorry.” She muttered, adjusting her spot on the couch. Y/N had spent the last half an hour sitting on the couch staring off into the one book that was off-center on his shelf. It didn’t really matter what she was looking at when she was going on and on, thinking about what she could have done to have this happen to her.
She knew the answer was nothing. This sick fuck was after her and now it was a game.
“Did you eat?” He questioned, letting out a sigh as she shook her head no. “Y/N, it’s not the time—“
He paused as she looked a bit sick. He had wanted to snap again, get angry she wasn’t taking care of herself. Not only did he feel like an all-around failure but he felt anger towards the man following her, anger towards the ex-prospect he had beaten to a pulp, and anger at the world. But he saw that look, the faraway look on her soft face that didn’t belong there.
“Hey.” He softened his tone. “You need to eat something at least. I’ll grab something for you but you need to take care of yourself. Don’t let this fucker take away this part of your power.”
It was awkward. Harry wasn’t the comforting type, nor did he know how to apologize for being angry at her when he knew realistically it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know the dangers of the world, she didn’t know how truly serious this shit could be.
But he also was angry because she hadn’t wanted to reach out to him. Even at the first sign of something off he would want that. But she was afraid he would get mad? Yell at her. He hadn’t done much to show her any different.
The conflicting emotions and thoughts made his headache, the sting making him pinch the spot between his brows as he leaned his head down.
“I’m making a frozen pizza. The stuffed crust one. You’ll eat some”.
In a weird way, it was him showing affection. Knowing that it was a guilty pleasure of hers, despite how nongourmet it was. They’d gotten one at the store, and he couldn’t think of a more appropriate time.
She didn’t want the stupid frozen pizza.
Any other day she would have leaped at the idea, might have gobbled up the whole pie all on her own but right now she felt more like a caged animal, and not in the way Harry had. It was like he’d been feeding her, watching her before bedtime without addressing anything.
Like how he’d been calling her by her name so comfortably as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Or how he shut her up to focus on pinning his rage on some horny prospect who failed at doing his one job.
The sound of the plate against the coffee table once again pulled her from her thoughts. Y/N almost couldn’t believe she’d been sitting in the same position long enough for the pizza to cook.
Y/N looked up at his expectant face, waiting for her to take a bite. She swore it was the same guy from this morning. The same guy who she slept beside every night, who had kissed her forehead before class, the same guy whose cock she sucked just a few feet from where she was sitting now.
She didn’t think it would bother her now if he had shown even a hint of pity for her. A simple touch.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I want you to eat.”
He felt uncomfortable. It was rare for him, considering the shit he had dealt with had made him a bit unshakable. He was uncomfortable with how she looked like she was staring into the void, avoiding his eyes, quiet as a mouse. She was never quiet. She always was making noise, banging pots in the kitchen, giggling at her phone, talking to him about a show or school… Doing… something.
Bunny wasn’t quiet.
“You’re worrying me. It’s your favorite and you haven’t eaten since breakfast which was a banana.” He remembered her grabbing one on the way out. His face was one of concern, brows furrowed together as he tried to figure out how to get her to just eat and soothe a few of his nerves.
She could only shake her head, not trusting her voice to answer as her eyes started to well up with tears. It would be a snarky remark anyway, wouldn’t help with the situation. He was worried, but she felt like it was for all the wrong reasons.
Taking in a shaky breath she got up, quickly making her way toward the bedroom to have a moment to herself. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again, to think she was weak. It had been hours since the incident but the gut-wrenching feeling hadn’t eased up. She was on edge, her body beginning to shake as the tears she had been holding back finally freed themselves.
Y/N sank down against the door, a violent sob ripping through her. The reality was this wasn’t going to end soon, that this would get worse before it got better, and Harry… well he hadn’t even considered how this would affect her psychologically.
Nothing could have prepared her for the wash of paranoia, the flashbacks to times when she thought she was potentially being watched. He was in her car.
Where else had he been? What else had he seen?
She could hear his footsteps behind her a few seconds later, calling her name in a confused tone as he stopped and wiggled the handle only to find weight in front of the door.
Harry was panicked. Really, he didn’t know what to do in these situations. Why was she crying? Because of the stalker? He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had caused this break in her, but he didn’t like the squeezing of his heart as he waited outside the door with his hand against it.
“Bunny- let me in. Please. What’s wrong?” The edge was in his voice, nerves audible as he felt unsteady. How did he fix this? He didn’t know how to make her feel better or even the source of it fully, his hand knocking again.
Was she hurt? Did something else happen she didn’t tell him about? His mind was swimming with possibilities, none of them good.
“Can you talk to me? I don’t…” he kicked the floor. “I don’t like knowing you’re upset and not being able to help. What is wrong? Can I help?” It was okay, he thought. One moment she was quietly sitting there, albeit unsettled, and now she was letting out gut-wrenching sobs that made his fists clench.
“C’mon, angel. Let me see you.”
Bunny couldn’t silence her sobs despite her attempts at muffling them against her hands. He couldn’t just leave her alone for a moment to feel. He hadn’t all day. It seemed he had been prepared for everything but this.
Y/N let a few moments pass as she collected her breathing once again, knowing she could hold it in for only so long. Swiping the tears from under her eyes and nose, Bunny picked herself up off the hardwood floor to open the door.
Harry hadn’t made that face in years. She swore she had only seen it a handful of times in moments when she couldn’t previously tell Sterling the matter. This time he looked far more perplexed as if he was struggling to read her. Trying to understand.
“Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong?” She dared to ask, a sniffle softening the blow of her tone. Bunny was definitely upset, the rage, however, was a look that he recognized. Harry had seen it plenty of times in the eyes of his enemies and for lack of a better term, haters. He’s never seen such anger in a woman’s eyes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being on the receiving end of it.
“I…” he swallowed, searching her face. “There’s a few things you could be upset about, Bunny. So I have to ask what it is.”
The thing about Harry was that he was a bit oblivious when it came to emotions. To feelings. Y/N knew that. That didn’t mean it hurt any less when he was accidentally an asshole.
He was hesitant, stepping further into the room and closing the door. Was that anger reserved for the stalker? For Cricket? For him? He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing at her, everything in her body language screaming at him to stay away.
“You’re angry. At the stalker, yeah?” He kept his tone soft though his conviction wasn’t strong. He wasn’t sure what she was angry at. It was just very odd to see her like this. Her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks hurt his heart.
“Obviously, yeah!” She groaned, letting herself get up to start pacing the room. She wanted to take her mind off of this, but he just needed to know. “Can’t do anything about that but sit back and wait. You said your guys would handle it. I trust that.” She wasn’t denying the help.
“Is it not enough for me to just… be upset?” Y/N turned to face him, “Everything got so real so quickly and I’m just supposed to get used to it and carry on, yeah?” It made her feel small saying that, but he wanted to know so she’d tell him.
“You wanna help me so bad, maybe listen to me when I say I’m feeling something. Know you’re stressed but it’s not my fault this is happening, it’s already burdening enough.” She felt her eyes well up but she quickly swallowed them down.
“You really hurt my feelings today. Just thought maybe even for a second you could just be there. Like actually be there and not Reaper.”
Harry’s brows wrinkled, his jaw clenching as he went to open his mouth, shutting it again. He couldn’t understand what she meant. A burden? When the fuck had he even implied that?
His anger stemmed from the creep that was following her. Sure he was irritated she hadn’t told him sooner, hurt, even, but she wasn’t the cause of his actions today. In fact, it was the way she had been neglected by someone he had said ok to protect her.
“Hold on for a second.” He said, raising a hand. “You aren’t a Fuckin’ burden. I’ve never said that, nor would I. You’re far from it. I’ve been pissed all day because you trusted me to protect you and someone let you be accessible. In my name.” He exhaled sharply.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was trying to take care of business, Bunny.” He stressed. “It wasn’t to… to make you feel bad or anything. I was so angry that the fucker had gotten to you, that Cricket had left his goddamn post I couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t to hurt your feelings.” He ran his hand through his hair, allowing himself a step closer. “I never, not once, blamed you for my stress. I took this head-on because I fuckin’ care about you. I wouldn’t throw that shit in your face.”
“I didn’t say that either.” She countered, “You know you can take care of business and still show me compassion— I” Bunny let out a frustrated sigh, “I know you didn’t mean it but it felt like it anyway. Kept calling me Y/N, felt like I was a kid getting in trouble. As if you were a stranger.”
She wasn’t sure if she was making much sense but she wanted him to understand.
It was a slight change in his usual tone with her the moment he arrived, the lack of gentleness and how his eyes commanded her instead of watching her for clues like they usually did.
“You told me this wasn’t going to be an easy process, I know that. But you let me into your home, let me lean on you whenever I needed anything and I needed you today and it's like you didn’t even care until you heard me crying and I really don’t need your pity.”
She was irritated and tired and emotionally exhausted. All she wanted was his affection before, she wanted to be held and told it would be okay. Obviously, Harry wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but she wished he could just lighten up. Give her something to work with.
“I’m sorry.” He grunted. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were getting in trouble. I wasn’t thinking about how you’d take that stuff- it’s just…” he tugged on his hair. “It’s really fucking hard when you’re emotionally connected to someone you’re trying to protect.” He stressed. “Usually we’re hired for this shit. There’s no… coddling, comforting, none of that. We get in, eliminate the threats, and then we’re done. We guard with little emotional connection. When it’s you?” He stressed the word. “Feels like every damn misstep is gonna choke me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” He finally placed his hands on her shoulders, making her eyes meet his.
“You get me? If I didn’t do the shit I did today, I’d be pacing around like a caged animal. I’m still fuming. It’s fucked up, yeah, but it’s how I am. I’m sorry I didn’t comfort you, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but…” he tilted his head up to collect himself for a moment before rolling it back down, catching her watery eyes.
“It isn’t something I could let go. You don’t communicate with me either, Bunny. You didn’t tell me. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have noticed but you’ve got to try n’understand, my head is rolling too. You’re in danger and I want to help you, I’m going to, I just need you to be blunt with me. Like how you are now.”
“I tried to tell you!” She muttered, but there was no power behind her words. She had enough of this, emotionally burnt out, blinking quickly to try and stop the tears from rolling but it wasn’t much help.
“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” She knew it wasn’t worth fighting over anymore. It was late and she needed rest. She felt on edge still, like there were eyes were still on her.
Harry didn’t really like her answer, knowing there was something more but was too nervous to push further. Had he gotten too caught up? He told her it would be like this. She was aware of what he was capable of.
“Did I scare you?” He asked suddenly, stopping his own train of thought to wait for her answer.
Harry knew that he was intimidating. He was very much so, considering his road name was quite literally a symbol of death, he was no stranger to violence himself. He’s grown up in it.
Y/N, though, hadn’t. His little Bunny had been sheltered from it all until recently. It had been on purpose from both him and her brother, making sure the ugly parts of their lives didn’t touch her. It seemed that now, though, it had all been in vain.
“I never wanted you to see me like that. M’sure… it wasn’t the most comforting thing, to see me like that. But I need to know if I actually scared you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat despite his dry mouth, gently pulling her back to him.
That would be something he’d never forgive himself for. Anyone else in the world had a reason to fear him, but Bunny? She didn’t have a single reason to have a drop of fear. She was safe from him, she was protected. The one person who should always count on his gentleness.
Y/N shook her head with a definite no. He hadn’t scared her, but he wasn’t exactly the friendliest in that state.
“You didn’t… but I didn’t recognize you and that was scary.” She swallowed thickly, wiping her own tears away while trying to keep eye contact with him. Bunny had nothing to lose, she had nothing to hide from him. The feeling was uncomfortable, slightly embarrassing like she was ashamed to be so open with him emotionally.
“Felt like I couldn’t talk to you… so I wanted to let you know, I didn’t like it.” She finished and took another deep breath in a form of self-soothing, hands fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. It reminded her of the part of her that didn’t even want to wear the skirts anymore. The thought of prying eyes made her regret her fashion choices now more than ever.
Having her privacy invaded made everyday tasks flood her body with anxiety. How long would it be till they caught this guy? How much more was she going to see before they did?
He exhaled heavily as he watched her close in on herself. The poor thing had been through the damn ringer and he surely didn’t help, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to fix any damage he had made. It was weird to see her like this. Suffocating. How he managed to be oblivious before was probably because of the blindness his sheer rage for the man had caused. He had failed to see he neglected the main person he was angry for.
“M’sorry.” He said quietly. “It’s a part of who I am but I didn’t want you to see it. It’s… hard to control myself.” It wasn’t an excuse, no, but it was at least maybe an explanation. It was hard to see her so sad, so shaken up.
He just wanted to fix it.
Harry didn’t give a fuck about many people, but Y/N had wiggled her way into his chest and set up camp. He had been trying to prevent it but it was undeniable now. Maybe that’s why it made him unreasonably angry. It felt extremely personal.
“How do I fix it?”
There wasn’t much she wanted from him but for him to just relax and be himself with her. Something to remind her that it wasn’t always going to be like this.
“Can we lay down?” Bunny was almost afraid to ask, “just want a normal night.”
There was nothing that soft bedsheets and comfy pajamas couldn’t fix. Of course, she had been wearing lots of skimpy clothes around the house and it was comfortable, but today she just wanted to be.
“Can I have one of your shirts please?” They were far more worn in and comfy than anything in her duffle bag, that’s for sure. She made her way to the bathroom to take off her makeup and freshen up, splashing her face with some cold water to help with the heat in her face.
She walked out to see him already in bed, waiting for her as if he was waiting for her next directions.
Harry felt like he was walking on eggshells. He’s never been good at all of this, the comforting, but he was itching to touch her. For some normalcy. His shirt hung on her body as she exited the bathroom, her hair tied up on her head and her legs bare.
He watched her pass him, grab the television remote and turn it on the food network before shutting the lights off and climbing into the bed next to him. His hands folded in front of him as his eyes watched her every move.
“Good?” He murmured, watching her submerge herself in a blanket sea. Her body was covered, head resting on the pillow and her sudden turn away from him made him wince- though not undeserved.
“Can you hold me?” She felt shy as the words fell from her mouth, though the covers helped comfort her. There was a reason she had turned around before asking.
She didn’t want to look at him, she knew it would just create more feelings. Feelings she was trying to suppress but was failing at. Ever since the night, she sucked him off in his kitchen, she felt like she couldn’t get close enough to him.
It was his intimacy she craved, but she couldn’t exactly say it so bluntly. It made her forget everything. He had asked her to be blunt but she was too afraid to make any moves. Not when he had shown her exactly how much it pains him to be teased.
It was probably the last thing he expected, but she felt him shift. The bed made a rustling sound as he placed his phone into the charger and shift onto his side, scooting up to her and gently placing his arm around her waist.
He didn’t know what to expect and it surely hadn’t been this request but he would happily provide some affection if it meant she would relax. His hand rested over her stomach, the heat of it bleeding through the thinner fabric as he pulled her into his body.
“M’sorry, Bunny.” He murmured, leaning down to test his luck with planting a kiss behind her ear. “I’m gonna keep you safe.” She didn’t reply right away. The low murmur of the tv filled the space, the light bouncing off the wall with the different frames but all he could do was listen to her breathing.
He should have done this to begin with, but he’d let the rage overcome everything else. It wasn’t something he should have done at all, but he was going to do his damn best now to make up for it.
“This alright? Want me to move at all?”
A gentle wave of heat and excitement came over her before it started to dissolve in a feeling of warm lingering comfort. Her hand rested over his, fingers locking over his in an attempt to be closer.
The low vibration of his words made her eyes flutter shut, the gentle kiss making the hair stand up on her neck. She was so reactive to him, it wasn’t really helping her with her angry mood. Bunny was softening up by the second in his arms, but she wouldn’t dare ask for more.
Did he know that he could have her however he wanted? It wasn’t often that she could get a man to hear her out, that someone like Harry could actually take a step back and listen to her.
She hoped this wasn’t a one-time thing, hoped he would continue showing her the softness he was showing now. Was she asking for too much? They did say they were pretending, right?
She stopped pretending a long time ago. Come to think of it, she didn’t even remember starting.
—-
Harry woke up to an empty bed.
Something that usually sent relief through him had him stiffening, feeling nervous and panicked for a few moments before hearing the television playing out in the living area and the clink of ceramic. The smell of coffee permeated the space, cluing him into why the bed was empty.
A peek at the clock on the nightstand made him realize it was only 6 in the morning, way too fucking early for Bunny to be up. She couldn’t sleep, it seemed. That wouldn’t do.
He stretched with a grunt, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and padding out of the room to see Bunny at the kitchen counter, flipping through a cookbook she had brought from school. Her body was covered in his shirt and this time, joined by a dark brown knit cardigan from the depth of his hall closet. Cozy and soft, she looked inviting and Harry’s sleepy mind couldn’t help but indulge. Especially with how she had asked for his comfort yesterday, he took a hint.
Arms wrapped around her waist, his nose nudging her neck as he rubbed himself against the hot skin. She’d jumped slightly, relaxing into his hold as she placed the coffee on the countertop.
“You’ve never been an early riser.” He mumbled against her, the cool morning air not agreeing with him. She should be back in bed, however delightful the scene of her in his kitchen was. “Can’t sleep?”
He was so warm.
Hot breath paired with the morning raspiness made her feel weak in the knees. Thankfully, she’d been leaning against the counter. Her eyes fell shut, allowing herself to lean back into him only slightly.
“Too nervous.” She continued her honest streak, though it was a bit of a lie. She had woken up because she was a bit shaken, but she couldn’t fall asleep again with how closely snuggled up she was. If anything it just made her want to be closer to him, skin to skin, maybe even more.
“Were you worried?” Y/N asked teasingly, he could hear the smile on her face. The coffee was long forgotten now, her hands finding their place over his. She decided to let herself indulge in the fantasy, it was the least she could do for herself.
“Yes.” He said quietly. He was worried beyond belief. For a few moments, he realized she was gone and hadn’t placed her yet, he was terrified something went wrong and the creep had gotten inside the place and she had left without telling him.
“It’s ok to be nervous. But you’re safe. Should come back to bed. Too fuckin’ cold out here.” He pulled her further into him, hands grasping under her sweater so he could warm his digits between the layers.
It was so quiet out here besides the tv. She had put it on for background noise, terrified of hearing whatever could be lurking out there. Her head leaned back and rested against him, shivering a little when he pressed another kiss to her skin.
“See? Too cold.” He began to walk backward. “Too early. Come back. Don’t have to sleep. Or talk. Just…” he took a breath, one she could feel against her back. “Don’t be doing anything that’s too far from me. I’ve of t’call and cancel my shit for today anyways.”
For a second she thought she was still dreaming. It all felt too good to be true, he was staying home today?
She didn’t want to get her hopes up, she knew he would likely be busy working and keeping an eye on her. Lately, she had been feeling anxious about leaving the house, so when she wasn’t in class she was usually at home finding ways to occupy herself.
It was rare that he joined her for anything other than meals or just for a few hours before bedtime, so it would feel like a little treat to get to spend the day with him.
A giggle escaped her lips as he began pulling her from the counter and back to the bedroom, her hands grabbing the remote just in time to turn the tv off before they were down the hall and in his bedroom again.
The smell was enough to have her relaxing, letting Harry place her wherever he wanted her.
Harry may be an asshole, but he was an asshole who tried to learn and make up for his mistakes. Guilt still sweltered in his chest as he felt her happily be dragged into the bedroom again.
Right now, it was making her feel safe. That was his only goal. Keeping her here and happy and relaxed the best he could considering he had been so preoccupied. She needed a break and so did he.
Once he got her into the bed again, cardigan on the floor, blankets over their bodies, lights off, he asked her one of his only requests of the day.
“I know you’ve got classes but… I really think you should stay home today.” He approached it cautiously. “You’re still a bit sensitive, didn’t sleep… I don’t feel comfortable sending you off where he had just felt comfortable getting in your car.”
She could see on his face that he was trying to not be overbearing. It was coming from a place of care, a spot of concern. Her nails played with the necklace twisted up, untangling it as he spoke. There was an intimacy to it, but a hesitation to look up at him.
“I don’t want to make it worse but… I think you need a break.”
“I won’t go today… but I don’t want him to think he got to us,” Y/N explained, still focused on the necklace. “I-I just have this feeling in my stomach like he’s going to pull something and I don’t know what it is but it doesn’t feel good.”
The moment she read the note she knew it was just the beginning. She wasn’t sure what message she wanted to send, but Harry was right, she needed at least one day.
It pained her to miss classes, she genuinely loved her classmates and loved cooking. It was fun every day. She felt completely free and at ease, for the hours she was in that building. Harry did have more experience with stalkers though. Maybe he did know best.
“I-I don’t want to be here by myself though and I know you’re really busy, so I really don’t have a problem with going— it will give you time to do things still.”
“M’not gonna leave you alone. I’m staying with you.” He murmured, frowning slightly. Of course, he understood the assumption but he wished she would have the opposite. That she would just think he would drop everything for her.
“I’m not going to let him get to you, love. I hope you know that. M’not gonna let him hurt you.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “I know I’ve been a bit shit at this so far, but I’d rather have my hand cut off than let him get anywhere near you. I’ll take him out as soon as I can. But for today… let’s just sit here and recharge.”
She had an extremely rough day yesterday and part of him really wanted to make it up to her, while the other half simply wanted her to rest. Who knew what the stalker was going to pull next?
All he knew was that he was going to take care of her.
#reaper#harry styles x reader#reaper harry#Reaperry#biker!harry#biker Harry#mc Harry#motorcycle club!Harry#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#Harry styles dark#dark Harry#dark Harry styles#harry styles one shots
438 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finally, it is complete!
Oh. My. God. This took way too long to complete, but finally Noelle’s character sheet is complete!… at least for now 😅 the first half I completed very fast and I had all of these amazing ideas and it turned out amazing, just how I imagined it… but then came the second half, and I had all these things I wanted to share about her character, but then I started loosing steam and hit a huge art block. It took two weeks more then I had initially intended because I had little motivation or inspiration to add on to it, but slowly and surely I finished it.
I understand that this is a bit different from my other “gameplay related” comics, but i thought it would be fun to share who my MC is, and to give a more clearer look on her personality and background for anyone who is curious or wants to perhaps draw Noelle with there Mc (which btw I would absolutely LOVE ❤️ if you ever want to, plz do, just tag me ❤️❤️)
There’s so much more about her character and background that I still want to share, however there’s a it too much to fit in a scrapbook page so perhaps in the future I will find the time to type it out and share it, or even slowly reveal it in some short stories I’m thinking about (perhaps start ao3 and what not, idk just a thought 😏) but for now this is what I shall reveal for now. Also plz ignore if some of her history doesn’t make complete sense, I’m still working on it…
#I genuinely love doing character sheets there so fun to do so even if no one ever sees this it was fun to do regardless#sorry it took so long a lot got in the way of me finishing it but now that it’s done I can finally start working on a different project 😭😭#why does tumblr lower resolution I swear it’s not supposed to be that blurred out 😭#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts mc#hogwarts oc#original art#slytherin#harry potter hogwarts game#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts legacy ominis#hogwarts legacy sebastian#ominis gaunt#hogwarts legacy main character#main character#character sheet#original character#scrapbook#scrapbook style#hogwarts legacy art#hogwarts legacy mc#ominis x mc#mc character sheet#hogwarts legacy meme#oc art#art
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Delighted
#art#artwork#illustration#color#illustrator#drawing#digitalart#hphm#hphm mc#maya winter#andre egwu#maya x andre#hphm jacobs sibling#hogwarts mystery oc#harry potter hogwarts game#traditional thai outfit#thai style
199 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t know why I wanted to draw this but here we are
Emily Wood a bit more accurate everyone
Kinda fell in love with my oc, I must admit…
- He’s just jealous, don’t mind him
#fanart#hogwarts legacy fanart#harry potter fandom#harry potter hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy#harry potter hogwarts game#hogwarts mc#sebastian sallow x mc#hphl mc#hogwarts legacy mc#hufflepuff#slytherin#love this but could never do it again lol#I’m not bad i just can’t have a proper style#still pretty tho
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
18+ - this masterlist contains mature content & smut.
• so high.*
#plugrry#harry styles#harry styles blurb#shroombloomm#harry x reader#harry x yn#harry x mc#harry styles imagines#bhhrry#buzzcut harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles x yn#harry styles x reader
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
06 - the greatest show : runaways are running the night
Summary : a group of misfits, a mysterious leader, a string of murders, and a life on the road.
previous part /// jump to pt. 1
Word Count : 2k
Series Masterlist
the first few months were an absolute whirlwind. she’s never experienced a sense of calmness in the chaos, but she is finally getting used to it.
at first, it was all about learning how the show worked. how to set up, where to set up, how to get prepared, how to run through a show, how to tear down and pack up, how to set up the boxcars. it was a smooth operation, adding an extra set of hands proved to be a learning curve not only for her, but for the others as well.
once she’d found her footing in that sense, it was time to join. for real, join them. she practiced over the course of a couple weeks, drawing clara, tom, adriana, sergey, even the twins. she learned not only to feel confident in her craft, but also to complete her work in a timely manner. it was one thing to hole up in her old bedroom for days, slowly chipping away at a drawing of her quirky neighbour. but it was a whole other thing to draw someone she’d literally just ran into, in under 5-10 minutes.
once that challenge was surpassed, she had the joy of joining the show, getting a small booth of her own, letting her be outside as opposed to hidden away in a tent. this was something she was getting used to, albeit a bit slower. she’s not used to being the centre of attention, quite the opposite really, she was more comfortable laying low in the background. but harry decided to set up her booth right near his tent, something the others had lots to say about, but harry defends that it’s just because it keeps her right in the middle of all the action, where patrons can easily see and access her talent.
and it’s worked, she gets a line up of customers every night, waiting patiently for the little bit of a personal souvenir to take home. still getting used to being the only show participant out in the open, but that too is getting easier every night as she becomes more and more comfortable in her new role.
and eventually, it all just became routine. something she’d fallen into, comfortably, the anxiety of the new life having subsided, and a time where she could finally properly enjoy her surroundings. and she was taking it all in.
never in a million years had she imagined herself getting the opportunity to travel all across europe. the first thing she bought being a map of the continent, pinning the cities they’ve visited along the way. she’s so far tracked her way around france, now having crossed over into italy. she’d also been collecting small trinkets from each town, displaying them all around her room, finally having created a space for herself, something that expresses who she is today.
all in all, she’s felt incredibly at home, surrounded by people who have taken her in as their own, no questions asked. she’s found herself having a very sibling esque relationship with both clara and sergey, tom having stepped in as a fatherly figure. one that’s created a welcoming, comfortable environment, something she’s noticed that he seems to provide for all of them. that is, except harry, who seems to be more of his equal, without the fatherly vibe.
she’s yet to completely figure harry out, something the others have made her come to accept, as none of them have really figured him out either. he still makes her incredibly nervous, although for different reasons now. it’s no longer in the sense of being accepted by him, and more in the sense of butterflies in her tummy, making the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, making her lungs constrict and her knees go weak.
they’ve spent their fair share of time together, something she gets teased for relentlessly, all in good fun though. he loves bringing her into town on their day off, showing her the cutest little shops, the sweetest pastries, the most intricate souvenirs, the best parks with the most beautiful little benches, where they spend an absurd amount of time just talking. he was like her personal worldly tour guide, one she was slowly falling for.
and christ, has she tried to keep the feelings at bay. especially when the others tell her that they’ve all tried to get with him, people with more experience and more confidence, each of them walking away with nothing more than the pit of being turned down. she knew she didn’t stand a chance, knew she’d get absolutely nowhere with this influx of feelings. but for some god forsaken reason, she still finds herself daydreaming about him whenever she’s alone in her little room.
she reminisces about their escapades through town, about the way his fingers graze her knuckles when they’re walking closely side by side, the way his smile seems to light up whenever she finds something to bring back from their little adventures. she imagines the touches meant more than just friendly pats of caring love, imagines that instead of saying goodbye at the end of the day, that he sneaks into her room, without the others seeing, curling up beside her in warm comfort for the night. she’s even started waking up from wet dreams, something she’s locking away in her secret vault of secrets.
she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, doesn’t want him to know that she’s feeling a certain way about him. mostly, she doesn’t want to be rejected. she thinks it’s much easier to just sit here in an imaginary world of love. considering the amount of rejection she’s suffered from her entire town, she really doesn’t think she could handle it from someone she’s grown to really cherish.
so when they make their way through the newest town, somewhere in northern italy, harry coming to find her on their day off, promising another day of adventures through the city centre, she accepts with a big smile and a quick nod of her head.
as they follow the maze streets, thankful that harry’s here and guiding her, sure she’d get lost otherwise, she feels the sling of harry’s arm over her shoulders, gently pulling her into his side, “is it bad to say that i’m happy it’s just the two of us today ?”
she blushes, her face turned down to watch her feet as they walk, the warmth on her cheeks certainly noticeable. her chest was bursting, tummy flipping, knees going weak, overall it was an absolute miracle that she was capable of continuing to walk alongside him without so much as a fumble. “why’s that ?” she murmurs, not completely trusting her own voice at the moment.
harry shrugs, humming for a moment, as if in thought, “because i can put my arm around you without being relentlessly teased,” he chuckles, making a small joke about it, the weight of what he wants to say getting lost to his nerves.
truth was, up until now, harry had been incredibly enamoured. something about her inner beauty just shines so brightly in harry’s eyes. she’d been through a lot, little snippets of which harry’s been able to catch, although she hasn’t entirely opened up yet. and still, she’s always smiling wide, having deep meaningful conversations about anything from faith to worldly observations to education and so much more. he doesn’t think he’s ever had such fascinating chats as he’s had with her. and that says something. he’s had a lot of chats with people as he travels, but with her, he gets completely lost, hours flying by in a blink.
she’s also just so god damn pretty. harry has a crush. christ, a full on crush. it’s been absurdly long since that’s happened. he’s not even sure how to navigate it. but for her, he would try his absolute best, figuring it out along the way.
she feels her tummy flipping, her heart rate increasing, hands going tingly, her brain spinning in circles, lungs constricted tight. what was she supposed to say to that ? she loved having his arm around her, but she very well could not admit to that. she wanted to lean into him, wrap her arm around his waist, rest her head on his shoulder, maybe even place her other hand delicately against his chest for a brief moment.
she hadn’t realized that she’d stopped walking, too focused on just formulating a reply to keep her feet moving, making harry stumble, stopping abruptly, looking down at her questioningly, slightly worried, “what’s wrong, bug ?”
her eyes flick up to meet his, a look of confusion etching her features, “m’not sure what to say,” she admits shyly, biting her lip.
harry’s mouth quirks up, thinking she could not possibly be any cuter, feeling his heart burst a thousand times harder than it had been all day, looking at her with nothing but pure adoration.
he knows that he makes her nervous, senses her rapid heart rate each time, but he’s not too sure what to do to calm her. “s’it alright that i put my arm around you ?” he settles on, figuring it is something he should confirm.
“yeah,” she nods, lips turning up, “it’s alright. i-“ she takes a breath, “i like it.”
he’s fucking beaming, can feel it, unable to contain his smile, “me too, bug,” he nods, pulling her in a little closer, turning to continue down the road, a stack of news papers catching harry’s attention, or more so, the headline, “hold on, pretty girl,” he hums, his arm sliding off of her shoulders, going over to take one off the top, looking over the article quickly.
she notes the change in his demeanour the more he reads, his breathing picking up slightly, his eyebrows furrowing, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip, his hands grasping tighter, almost ripping the thin paper. “harry ?” she asks softly, taking a few steps towards him, “what’s it say ?”
“hmm ?” harry looks up at her, almost as if he’s snapped out of a trance, giving his head a small shake, “sorry, uh, there’s been some murders,” he hums, as she stands right next to him, looking over the article for herself.
“that’s-“ she recounts quickly in her head, eyes flicking over the information with speed, “those are the last 4 cities we’ve been in,” she looks up at him almost questioningly, “what does that mean ?”
“i don’t know,” he admits quietly, softly shaking his head, “it can’t be good though,” he ads in thought.
“do you think-“ she hums, not wanting to finish her sentence, looking over at harry, worry etched in her features.
“no,” he’s quick to shake his head, determination on his face, “there’s no way, right ?” he wonders out loud. “can’t be one of us.”
“i hope so,” she whispers, biting her lip, flash of stress shooting through her spine. what was going on ?
……
A/N : a bit of a filler chapter to get to the good stuff. i hate that the moment this story comes back, it’s just a short filler (part of the reason i lacked the motivation to write it 😅) i feel bad for yall. rest assured, chapter 7 is started and coming real soon 🫶
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
tags : @daphnesutton @niallthebadboi @gorlsinmultifandoms @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @cc-horan28 @she26livesindaydreams @acesofspadess
#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles series#harry styles story#harry styles x oc#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles masterlist#harry styles x mc#one direction#writings#justmeinatree
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deep End - Chapter 16: Kiss Me Goodbye (Preview)
…in which Ezi leaves Harry.
AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.
WARNING: MATURE THEMES
All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist
Full chapter: Wednesday, June 1, 2022.
Read it now on Patreon.
A/N: Apologies for the wait! Here's the new Deep End chapter :) Also I wanna share some good news that I submitted a different version of Deep End for my final submission of my Creative Writing MA and I got the highest grade in my class! Thank you for supporting this series and these characters. It means a lot to me.
.
.
.
When she made it all the way down the steps, she found Koa waiting for her by the front gate. A taxi was waiting for them. Ezili wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket and eyed her sister up and down. Koa was wearing a bright orange dress that looked too big for her. How was she not freezing?
“Did you–”
“No, I didn’t kill anyone for this.” Koa rolled her eyes. “I bought it with the paper notes I stole from that lady sitting by the station.”
“You stole money from a homeless person?!”
Koa shrugged. “It’s just paper. It’s everywhere.”
Ezili rolled her eyes and grabbed her sister’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Ezili, wait!”
“Oh, God,” Ezili groaned. She knew whom that voice belonged to without turning around.
“Wait, that’s your other human boy,” Koa exclaimed. Ezili put her hand on Koa’s head and shoved her into the back of the taxi. Dawson rushed down the steps of the mansion and strode towards them.
“Where are you ladies going?” asked the taxi driver.
Ezili asked him to give them a few minutes, then grabbed Dawson’s arms as soon as he came close. “Dawson, you need to go back inside.”
“Ezili, what happened?” Dawson asked, panting. Then he saw Koa, and his eyes widened. “Dolores?”
Koa waved at him, a wicked grin on her face. Ezili tugged at his arms to turn his attention back on her. “She’s not Dolores. She’s my sister.”
“What?” He looked at her as if he believed she was telling a joke.
“You need to go back inside. I’m so sorry I cannot explain everything to you.” She tried to spin him around, yet he refused to follow.
“Ezili, what’s going on?” His eyes shifted back and forth between her and Koa. “Did Harry do something?”
“No.” Ezili sighed. She wished she could tell Dawson everything, but when she closed her eyes, she could see Harry’s disgusted expression back in that room. She didn’t want Dawson to look at her that way, too. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Go where?”
“Hurry. Mother’s waiting,” Koa hissed.
Ezili threw her arms around Dawson’s neck and felt his body go rigid as she hugged him. She kissed his cheek, probably the first and last one she could ever give him, then quickly got into the taxi and shut the door.
“Wait!” Dawson tapped frantically on the window, but she refused to look at him.
“To the giant bridge with lots of lights,” Koa told the driver, who seemed confused.
“You mean the Tower Bridge?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah, that! I think…”
“Oh, are you girls tourists.”
“Just drive, you–”
Ezili slapped a hand over Koa’s face and faked a smile at the surprised man. “Yeah, it’s the Tower Bridge.”
The driver nodded, probably thinking Koa was drunk so he didn’t ask further questions and started the engine. Ezili didn’t look out the window when the taxi headed towards the gate, leaving the mansion. However, she imagined Dawson watching her go with pain in his eyes, and Harry, somewhere inside, probably still sitting in that chair, was relieved that she was finally gone.
#deep end#harry x ezi#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry's house#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles one shot#harry styles series#harry styles fic#harry styles x mc#harry styles x oc#harry styles blog#harry styles au#harry styles smut#as it was#one direction#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harrys house#hs3
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Secret Santa for @hailzerox !!!
This is her HPMA oc Halara Harper with a veeery very shy Daniel~ 🩵
#hpma#harry potter magic awakened#halara harper#daniel page#hpma daniel page#hpma daniel#daniel page x mc#hp magic awakened#magic awakened#art#artists on tumblr#illustration#digital drawing#my art#my style#game fanart#fanart#hpma cassandra#hpma kevin#hpma robyn#hpma ivy#hpma mc#hpma oc
122 notes
·
View notes
Note
Listen, I LOVE your tis the damn season fic 😍 pleaseeee would you write an exile based fic for like noahxmc or Marisolxmc or honestly even more garyxmc?? I will name my firstborn after you if you do (jk no kids for me,,, but maybe like a cat or hamster)
wait anon your on to something here!!! this is big brain stuff! Kiwi is a cute name for a cat or hamster 👀
to work with the plot I made this pre love island I hope you don’t mind also took some liberties with the mc thing, like it can still be mc but i used you so second person point of view, but its good promise at least i think so i really hope you like it <3
exile
pairing: Noah x MC
summary: Noah lost you, no let you go—ok more like he made you go. But that didn’t mean he felt any good about it, especially not when he sees you with someone new.
note: Noah is a dick, is it my projected thoughts on how his route goes? idk, Noah just gives me the type to second guess his relationships and fuck them up so here is this fic 🤗 there are some lines that oof i get chills i love them its short, but honestly too powerful i had to stop (yeah im hyping myself up on this one i feel like i really did something here) anon idk if you wanted cute stuff but if you did this is such an angsty song im sorry if so. Also I posted this on my Ao3 too.
Ao3 Link
The champagne was being passed around, but Noah was itching for something a little stronger. The incessant chatter that filled the room irked him, he was too used to the calm quiet that filled the library where he spent most days. Even when he was off, school was still in session so he couldn’t spend time with his siblings and he spent most of his free days alone in his apartment reading or watering his plants. By choice, some would remind him, but he tried not to think of that despite how hard this night is setting out to be. He tried not to think of you.
Twinkling lights hung over head, the best man was clinking a fork to the top of his glass of bubbly. He sat alone in a sea of family and friends that were not his at the wedding of one of his close friends that he had happened to meet with you. Who he reminds himself he has to stop thinking about, but it's easy when he can busy himself with filing or logging information at work and especially hard when your perfume lingers in the air because you’re sat two tables away. Two tables away, a distance of probably twelve feet, but in reality it felt more like there was an endless ocean of murky violent water in between the two of you.
Noah’s world was once blended with yours so perfect and seamlessly—or so he likes to think. It is always so much easier to remember the memories in the glittering haze of nostalgia where everything feels fuzzy and warm. But maybe it had been. Maybe things were perfect and how they should have stayed. With your clothes in half his closet, your toothbrush in his bathroom, your notes littering the fridge and edge of the front door. Those were all gone now, except the notes, he always kept those. He still hasn't managed to throw them out; the brightly colored post-its still sit in a box under his bed with the pictures in frames that used to sit on the mantel. His sister had begged him to put them away, you’ll feel much better, she told him.
But the man had found his worst enemy these days to be his mind, cruel and treacherous twisting up all his thoughts and anything he’d come by to fill him with reminders and images of you. He didn’t need the photographs when he closed his eyes, there was your smile. There was an old woman on the bus wearing a sage jacket, your favorite color. The little kids kept wanting him to read The Little Prince, there was your voice along with his reading the tale and making little voices as you went. Everything was you. Worst of all it's his mind that got him to where he is now. It filled up that ocean, added the sharks and sharp waves, threw in a kraken just for the heck of it.
Who was Noah if not his own worst enemy.
He really did hate himself for letting you go, making you go, he should say, but he doesn’t because you're the one who packed your bags, who picked up your things and scraped his apartment and his life clean of you. Until this wedding that neither of you could escape. The clash of two worlds, that had once been one. He just didn’t expect this. That person by your side. Their arm around your chair and their hand rubbing your shoulder. He felt sick, he hated it. He hated the sight of you with someone else. It was like some twisted nightmare.
No, it felt like a movie he had seen before. He was never one for movies, but you loved the cinema and would drag him to every film you wanted to see. At first Noah thought he would struggle to stomach them. He didn't have a problem with sitting still for the two hours and some stories weren’t bad, he just missed the literary prose that came with novels. The eloquent words that would flow from a page that he never felt the dialogue of a movie could replicate. But he quickly found the beauty of the reflected projector light on your face, the twinkle in your eye as you watched. The flow of emotion these films caused you. He relished the sight of every laugh, tear, and jump as he got to see the beauty of these stories in you.
This scene, however, was not from one of the movies he enjoyed. He liked the adventure films, even the rare sci-fi. He enjoyed the light heartedness that came with romantic comedies. He loathed the dramas. The deep shocking stories that would weld tears in the eyes of the theater goers. The raw moments like these where silence, even if it was only the one he created around him, echoed and prickled his skin as if it were a thousand needles.
The groomsman and bridesmaid end their speeches as the band starts to play a song for the wedding couple. He should be watching his friend and their partner share their first dance, but the person you are with whispers something in your ear and you laugh. It was a sound he had been craving to hear since you had been gone, but the sound cuts at his heart and as you whispered back to them it only poured salt to the bleeding wound. It makes him angry seeing you like that, it was as if your world hadn’t shattered the way his did with you gone. As if this moment was easy.
Did your heart not break like his? Had you not spent nights crying as you read over poems and scribbled notes on the margins of books? Did it not pain you to walk the aisles and see someone that looked like him? To turn everywhere and see him in the faces of strangers, hear his voice in the sound of music, feel him in the wrinkle of bed sheets?
He is swallowed up in the rising ocean tide overtaken by the current and too far gone to notice anything but you and them. His fist clenched, making his fingernails dig into his palms. Noah would give anything to go back to a few months before. His mind, the instigator, fills his head with memories now. Every time he made you laugh louder than you were now. Every pretty little moment: the lingering kisses, the grocery shopping, the stolen touches, the times you spent with his family, all the times he fell deeper in love with you.
It made him see red, a fury he wasn’t used to feeling, of maybe he didn’t want to admit he felt too often, as jealousy bubbled in his blood. He needed a drink. Noah bee lines to the bar to order himself a rum and coke, making sure to tell the bartender to keep the soda to a minimum. He could get through this night; he just had to calm down. He hated anger. The way it clung to him like wet clothes after getting caught in the rain— or after diving into the ocean head first in your best suit at your friend's wedding.
He’s too caught up in it all to notice you till you order a drink beside him. Now you're so close he can smell the hints of lavender. It almost does the job of bringing him down from his clouded jealousy, but the look on your face as you turn to him resolves him to spite instead.
“What is your problem, Noah?”
“I beg your pardon”. He’s better than he expects at feigning nonchalantness, it’s his pride, he thinks, if he can just get you to feel as bad as he does, maybe he might feel a little better.
“Don’t— I would very much appreciate it if you would stop glaring at me and date.”
“I can't look around the room?”
“You were staring.”
“Must have just been lost in thought,” he shrugs and he hears you mumbling to yourself. It’s your tell, it's how he knows he's accomplished his mission, you’re just as angry as he is now.
You fake a smile and thank the bartender as they lay down your drink on the bar. After taking a sip you sigh, but he spots the crinkle in your nose, still angry, “Look, this room is big enough for one of us to be on one side, the other on the other and then no one has a problem.”
Simple enough, but could he do that? He thinks he might just so he doesn’t ruin this wedding for his friend, but this sick twisted part of him doesn’t care. He hasn’t seen you in so long and though he wishes it were on nicer terms, if a screaming match is all he can get from you he’ll take it and hate himself later. “It's that simple, huh?”
“Oh my god,” you shake your head.
Noah leans over motioning to his chest, voice rising to a plea, “I’m sitting here with my fucking heart ripped out of my chest and you’re—” galavanting off with your date he would have finished but you’re quick to stop him.
“Oh, i'm sorry, Noah is me trying to move on after you— you broke up with me offending you?” You quirk your head at him and scoff, “Your heart ripped out of your chest,” it's a bitter laugh that leaves your lips now, not like the joyful one he had heard moments before and he kicks himself because he's dug this hole. Six feet deep in the ground, but god does he not want to lie in it.
“Don’t give me your high and mighty crap right now,” you continue, “How do you think I feel? For me to pour out every fucking inch of my heart to you and for you to doubt that?” Your voice cracks and the tears start to form in your eyes, but you’ve learned to get the anger out first before they start to roll, “I moved out of my apartment when my lease was up. I got an offer for a job in Manchester— a real fucking good one, but you didn’t know that. No, cause I didnt even give it a second thought? Why when I loved my life in Romford? I loved the life I was building with you and I turned it down.”
You poke at his chest and the tears fall now, “No, Noah, you don’t get to sit there and be angry with me. You fucked this up.”
He wants to reach out and hold you, you're so close now he could if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, knowing you’d just hate him further. He thinks of all the ways he could beg, cry with you, scream that he loves you. But as much as this felt like a scene from a movie, it wasn’t. He lost you way back in the end of the first act and there was no love confessed reunions to this film. Not like the romantic comedies. He was not the leading man. Some dark-haired suave Mr. Darcy type who’d get looked past for all his shitty fucking behavior because he’s here crying and telling you he loves you.
No, this was one of those films that ends in tragedy.
#litg#love island the game#litg s2#kiwi talks#litg season 2#litg fic#litg noah#litg Noah x mc#noah x mc#guys I really like this fic wtf#Alexa play To Be So Lonely by Harry Styles for Noah pls#i think I love this so much because I thought for months exile was about Harry and Taylor till I realized Joe co wrote the song#i am a child of divorce#also to me this happened and like a year or so later Noah is on love island#im learning to write more second perspective but I was really tempted to make this Noah’s ex Priya#Oop maybe Hope did have something to worry about lmao#realizing there is not a single direct mention of exile in this fic
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
no one tell me that love of my life and matilda by harry isn't about noah x mc
#noah x mc#noah marshall#it lives in the woods#ilitw#it lives within#i could analyze but i fear no one#cares#perhaps i’ll edit them to this song#harry styles#q
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
What is the Definition of Heaven ?
To know, get free Spiritual book "Way of Living" by Spiritual leader Saint Rampal Ji Maharaj.
Send us :
Your Name :
Complete Address:
Contact Number :
in the Comment Box.
Or Email us : [email protected]
#taylor swift#critical role#teen wolf#harry styles#the owl house#tomorrow x together#panic! at the disco#supernatural#pixar#youtube#heaven and hell#books#bible#biblefacts#godisgood#satan x mc#jesuslovesyou
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
garrysqueen
mickey's blog
d-a-bad
D.A. Bad
nyazazel
I'll teach you to fly
catherinesroom
XXC
domiiomii
domii