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#mafia harry does things to me
hsgucci94 · 8 months
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Heartbroken
Summary: Harry doesn’t want his lifestyle to affect Y/N so he only has one card left under his sleeve, and it involves breaking up.
Part 3 of His weakness, a mafia!harry short story.
Read previous parts:
Part 1 | Part 2
by no means I’m trying to romanticise this lifestyle, it’s pure fiction x
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“You better not be trying to get rid of me right now,” Y/N joked, but when she didn’t get the response she was looking for out of him, she frowned, moving her hands away from his face and using them to hug her torso instead. As if she could protect herself from whatever was coming next.
His countenance stayed as stern as it was when speaking his last two sentences, and she was starting to think he actually meant them.
“Harry-"
"Tell me you haven't thought about how different your life would be if I wasn’t in it," he cut her off. "Tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind to leave me behind and get away from all this shit, from all my shit," he moved one of his hands up to her cheek and caressed it slowly. "Tell me, baby, I won't get angry at you. I could never. You had a lot of free time to think while recovering, I bet you thought about us, and how I won't get you nowhere good."
She stressed her frown, taking in everything he had just said to her. Why would she have thought about any of that? Wasn’t he listening when she told him a moment ago how grateful she was for everything he had done for her these past weeks?
“Are you breaking up with me?” Her voice cracked, “‘S that why you’ve been so good to me? To soften the blow?”
“No,” he hastened to add, “None of that, sweetheart.” He let out a sigh and and closed his eyes afterwards.
“I don't get it then,” she harshly replied, pissed at him, herself and the goddamned conversation they were having out of nowhere, “One minute you tell me you can't live without me and the next you’re encouraging me to leave you.”
“I don’t want you to leave me. But I don’t want you to stay if you’re not sure either.”
“Sure about what, Harry?” She was exasperated.
“Sure about us, baby,” he spoke in a soft tone still.
“I am sure, are you? Because I get the feeling it’s you who doesn’t want me around anymore.”
“Y/N…”
“No, Harry.” She gulped, inhaling through her nose a few times before getting up from his lap and turning her back to him, too overwhelmed, “I’ll go sleep in the guest room. Good night.” Her voice muffled.
The moment Y/N closed the door behind her, Harry put his hands on his head, pulling at his hair in frustration.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned, infuriated with himself for being like that, so dumb and insecure when it came to her.
All his brilliant qualities, those that turned him into a witty and elusive criminal, numbed whenever she was involved.
He would have put up a fight for her to sleep next to him regardless of his stupidity hadn’t he known her well enough to understand she needed some time on her own after he practically doubted the love she had for him.
He knew her feelings were genuine, as sincere as his were for her, but that was the main issue: he was scared. He didn’t know how to move forward from there. He had never before been in a relationship as serious as that one; he had never cared for anyone as much as he did for her, but he knew that no matter how good she was for him, he would only end up burying her up in his misery one way or another. The night Y/N was attacked kept on playing on his mind whenever it got the chance, making him shudder in fear just by thinking how much worse it all could have turned out.
Instead of some pretty bad looking wounds and a couple of broken ribs, it could have been her death body laid on the dark pavement for him to find it the following day.
That illusion alone gave him chills.
Everyone knew the six-feet tall and dark-haired British man didn’t fear anything, except losing her for good. She now had the chance to get away from him and move on, he was leading her the way out of all his bullshit. As much as it would pain Harry to let her go, a part of him wanted her to leave him and don’t look back. The other, however, was just too selfish to let any other man have such a diamond in the rough. Because that was what she had become. His most precious relic.
So he was conflicted with himself wether it was best to keep her or let her go.
Some time later he walked to the bathroom, where he picked up on his previous activity and brushed his teeth. Then he stripped off his clothes and walked to the bed. He tossed the duvet open and slid on his side, sighing heavily when he felt the cold and emptiness of a solitary body surrounding him. The bed that had always been cozy and warm enough for him, now felt harsh and uncomfortable without her body pressed to his.
He switched off the lights of the room and only kept on the lamp on his nightstand, which set the room in a much night-like scene. But even though he was supposed to close his eyes and get some sleep, his mind wouldn’t give him a rest. He could only think about her, about how hurt she felt when he spoke, and only prayed she hadn’t started crying as soon as she left his sight. The simple thought of her tears running down her flushed cheeks broke his heart.
He clenched his jaw, cursing himself.
His eyes wandered around the bedroom, and soon ended up on what had now became her nightstand. That piece of furniture had no special use before she came into his life. Now it was the drawer she used the most. It was where she kept all her valuables, such as her wallet or glasses cases, anything she couldn’t afford to buy a second time until it got broken or unusable. She also liked to keep there her current read and the medication she was taking for her treatment.
Her medication.
As soon as realisation hit him, Harry got up and walked to his bathroom, where he filled a glass of water and went back to the room. He opened the drawer and took out the small plastic container with the remaining pills in it before heading to where she was sleeping.
Even though Y/N liked to roll her eyes at him and tease him about how he never listened to her whenever he forgot some minor details about something she had previously mentioned, he did. He did listen to her. He might not always remember what she said, but he always tried to pay attention. So even if Y/N had told him a couple of hours before that she was feeling much better and didn’t need to take her medication as often, he didn’t want her to wake up in the middle of the night in pain and not have it near.
Being as cautious as possible, he entered the room where she was peacefully resting. Her features were relaxed and her lips slightly parted, and he couldn’t help but smile at such beautiful view.
He crossed the room in silence and left her pills on the nightstand next to her, before turning around to leave. He would have swore he had been absolutely discreet, but his sneaky steps and calculated movements were not enough to ovoid waking her up.
Y/N’s eyes opened and widened as soon as she noticed a big dark shadow moving around in the room. She was way too sleepy to distinguish who it was, so her first instinct was to scream.
Someone had entered the house and was there to hurt her once again.
She quickly got out of the bed, ready to grab the doorknob and run for her life, but two strong arms grabbed her.
“Shh, baby. Shh, it’s me, it’s just me. I’m here, I’m right here,” Harry spoke in a rush, pulling her to his chest. Her screams faded the moment she felt his skin against her, his arms wrapping around her back, securing her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Y/N’s hands gripped his biceps anxiously, inhaling and exhaling a few times trying to get her breathing back to normal. “Shit,” she mumbled, her heart still beating hard against her chest while it echoed through her ears, “Shit, Harry.”
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said again, soothing her with small strokes on her back.
He pitched his lips in a thin line afterwards, processing what got her so terrified so suddenly. No one, and he meant no one, would get the chance to touch her after that night. He could promise her that, and wouldn’t get tired of assuring her so over and over again. He knew she was still scared of people showing up out of the blue to attack her, but he made her a promise to keep her safe above anything, and he was a man of his word. “I increased surveillance on this house and I have eyes on you at all times. You know that, right?” His words were stern, but his tone warm and calming.
“I know,” she mumbled, closing her eyes shut as if by doing so she could forget the fear she had previously experienced when, for a moment, she really thought they came back to hurt her.
She knew such thoughts were just her mind playing tricks on her because Harry had already got rid of those who assaulted her. She found about it when she mistakenly read one of his text messages a few weeks back. But still, she knew there were tons of bad guys out there ready to get a grip on her just to try get to him.
He was a mafia leader, after all.
It was inevitable.
“Y/N, look at me,” Harry caught her attention a few seconds later. She didn’t break her hold on him nor signalled she had heard him. “I need you to look at me.”
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Part 4 coming soon
Please, like & share if you liked it? it’ll help so much 🥺✨thanks!! x
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thestoryofusstan · 2 months
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Sweet Creature
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harry styles masterlist
pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader
summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.
warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.
harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?
his mother.
his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.
“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”
and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.
but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.
“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”
“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”
“she got an accent?”
“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”
“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”
“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”
“i’ll come visit soon.”
and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .
except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.
alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.
so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.
and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.
all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.
and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.
her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.
she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.
and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.
gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.
“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”
she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.
he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.
she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.
“you really are jumpy, huh?”
“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.
he almost laughs.
“it’s my room.”
and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.
“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“
the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.
“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“
“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”
“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“
“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”
“i feel bad.”
“well, don’t.”
he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.
“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“
“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”
“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“
“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.
“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.
“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”
anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.
who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.
“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”
he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.
the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.
she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.
once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.
when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.
“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.
he muttered something she didn’t understand.
“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”
“i noticed.”
he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.
“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”
“it’s yours. i’m fine.”
“are you—“
“i’m sure.”
rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!
harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.
he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.
his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.
“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”
“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”
“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”
“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”
“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”
a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe
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freedomfireflies · 11 months
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Hers*
Summary: The fifth and final part to Mine*
Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has made you a deal.
Two for the price of one. He'll share you with Asher. For one night. And one night only.
And all you have to do? Be good and take it.
Word Count: 9.6k (...don't ask)
*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*
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“Easy, mama. Breathe. That’s it, that’s my girl. Relax for me, okay? Relax.”
Forcing a shaky breath through quivering lips, you do your best to oblige Harry’s request, allowing your muscles to uncoil as you settle before him.
“Good,” he hums, large palm smoothing across your hip. “Don’t want it to hurt, my love. Need you nice and loose for me.”
“I know,” you say, lashes fluttering shut. “I know, m’sorry.”
“Don’t have to be sorry, honey,” he reminds you, although there’s a hint of reprimand. “Just have to be relaxed.”
You nod again and unclench your fists from around the blanket. He’s doing his best to help you along, making sure to keep his touch light and comforting. And it’s something you thoroughly appreciate as he gingerly circles the tip of the plug around your hole.
“Talk to me,” he suddenly demands as he pulls the item away. “Tell me what you’re looking forward to about this weekend.”
He’s trying to distract you, and you smile as you glance toward the pillows at the head of the bed. “I’m excited to be with you,” you tell him honestly. “Both of you, but…especially you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you share before.”
“And you won’t again,” he snorts under his breath before you feel his puckered lips meet your ass cheek. It’s a quick peck, meant to encourage you, and your grin grows. “Lucky I’m even considering it this time.”
You turn to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you?”
He doesn’t meet your eye, instead keeping his focus on the task at hand. “Because I can tell it’s something you want. And I want to give you everything you ever want. Everything you deserve.”
Your heart jumps. “You think I deserve Asher?”
You smirk to show you’re teasing, and he chuckles to himself as he gently guides your thighs further apart. 
“I think you deserve the best,” Harry replies cooly. “Maybe that’s Asher, maybe it’s not. That’s why I want to be there. To find out.”
You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Do you trust him?”
He looks up.
“I trust you,” he says softly. “I trust that if this is something you want…then you’ll enjoy it. And I trust that if at any point it’s not…you’ll tell me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “You know I will. But I don’t want you to do this just because of me. Not if it’s not something you actually want.”
“I want what you want,” he repeats, a bit firmer. “This time, that’s Asher. I’ve seen the way you are with him. And I’ve seen the way he is with you. The only thing I expect of him is that he takes care of you. Which he does. And as long as he continues to do so…I’ll continue to let him keep his heart inside of his body.”
You snort and glance back down at the mattress, readjusting your position. “I think you just like knowing how scared he is.”
You don’t have to see Harry to know he’s grinning. “It’s fun to watch him sweat.”
“You’re a horrible friend.”
“I’m not his friend. I’m his boss.”
“Well…you’re a horrible boss, then.”
“Considering all I’ve allowed him to see and do, I’d say I’m pretty generous.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to.”
“He did,” Harry says quickly. Confidently. “Believe me, honey. He wanted to. He told me.”
“He told you and you let him live? I’m shocked,” you tease, feigning a surprised gasp.
However, this earns you a gentle but loud smack to the ass as you chuckle.
“Watch it,” he warns. “Yes, I let him live. Because I knew he wasn’t a threat.”
“No?”
“No.” He squeezes your hip, calling your attention back as you look over your shoulder.
Your stomach flips when you see the somber expression on his face.
“You love me,” he says. Not a question. Not a theory. A statement. “He will never change that.”
“No,” you echo, and your answer overwhelms you. “No, never.”
He reaches around to take hold of your chin and give it a squeeze. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “I want to do this with you—with him—because it’ll make you happy. Because you deserve to be taken care of. And I know he’ll do it right.”
With that, he drags the tip of the plug down to the arousal already collecting between your thighs, effortlessly lubricating the small object as the question is put to bed.
You reel, gasping through a slack jaw as you steady yourself on your hands and knees.
“Remember what I said,” he reminds you, patting your hip softly. “Gotta relax for me.”
You nod quickly, silently commanding your body to comply, to unwind, to loosen.
And then…he dips down.
Spit dribbles from his lips, landing between your cheeks as you mewl and wiggle closer to the strange sensation.
He makes a noise—either of approval or disappointment, you aren’t sure—before his finger is diving through the pool of saliva and slipping inside.
He’s already been stretching you for the past few minutes, attempting to make this experience a bit more pleasant.
And you’re more than thankful for that now, lost in the feeling of your muscles being coaxed into submission, the feeling of your walls being pushed apart, the feeling of him.
His digit alone is such a fantastically full feeling, you know a cock will send you on a one-way ride to heaven.
“There she is,” he hums, seemingly proud of the way you’ve begun to unwind. “Feels good, hm?”
“Yes,” you breathe, practically pushing back into him. “Fuck—”
“Been a while, I know,” he remarks before he retracts his hand and brings the plug back. “Proud of you, mama.”
Your cheeks warm from the praise before allowing your body to fall quiet. Limbs going utterly still as you await the feeling of the toy, eyes falling down to the dark duvet beneath you.
There’s not much resistance, and you can’t feel too surprised. In fact, it’s quite the subtle but enjoyable feeling. Made even more pleasurable by the way Harry speaks to you.
“That’s my fucking girl,” he whispers, making sure to keep a steady pace. “Oh, honey. Look so pretty right now. Wish you could see how well your sweet little hole stretches for me.”
You bite back a moan. Clenching certainly won’t help, and you almost wonder if he’s trying to be lewd on purpose, just to test you.
Once it’s seated snugly within your ass, Harry hums again and presses his lips to the base of your spine. “There you go. How’s it feel?”
“Good,” you whisper, allowing for a moment to indulge in the sensation. “Full.”
“Yeah? Good,” he repeats, taking a handful of hip in each hand before pulling you back just to watch your cheeks spread. “Fucking hell, mama. Don’t know if I can wait till this evening.”
You smirk as you settle onto your heels, lacing your fingers through his. “Then don’t. Call him over now.”
“Wish I could,” he sighs as he walks around the bed to face you. “But I need to swing by the warehouse, and I need you somewhere safe.”
“And why again am I not safe here?”
“Told you,” he says, caressing your cheek with his palm before running a thumb down your lip. “This location could be compromised if something goes wrong. S’better to have you in a safe house while we have the meeting. And once it’s all over, we can come home.”
Home. A singular word filled with a lifetime of memories. You love the way he says it. Love the tenacious way he speaks about the shared space you both belong in. The place you yearn to come back to.
You press your mouth against his finger, kissing him gently. 
He smiles.
“Okay,” you agree. “As long as you’re not gone long.”
“Try not to be.”
“Promise?”
He frowns but there’s a hint of playful amusement within the firm expression. “You know how I feel about promises.”
“I know,” you reply, sneaking your hand around his wrist to keep him close. “But I need you to promise me anyway.”
He sighs. “Honey…”
“I need to hear you say it,” you insist softly. “I need to know you’ll come back to me.”
Now he understands, and his eyes fill with a desperate longing. “Always,” he nearly growls, using both palms to take hold of your face and bring you to him. “Fucking always, mama. Always come back to you.”
You smile as your nose brushes against his. “Promise?”
He exhales a deep breath, as if you’ve stolen the air right out of his lungs. “I promise.”
You kiss him. And you don’t let him go for quite some time, thankful to have him in this moment…and all the rest.
“But you have to promise me something, too,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek.
“Yeah?”
He nods before that devious grin finds its way back. “Promise me…you won’t tell Asher about this little surprise until tonight,” he says, reaching down to smack his hand against your ass. “Think he deserves a little treat.”
And you can’t help but laugh as you agree. “I promise,” you vow before the sound of the door opening echoes throughout the apartment.
Asher announces his arrival as Harry helps you to your feet, making sure to keep you steady as you adjust to the newly acquired object.
“Get dressed,” he instructs softly before releasing you to walk toward the door. “He’s gonna take you to the safe house, and then I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay,” you reply, equally as quiet. “Har?”
He stops just before he’s completely disappeared into the hallway. “Hm?”
“I love you.”
He smiles, and it makes your heart sing.
“I love you, honey,” he calls back. “Now be good for me.”
You grin. “Yes, daddy.”
And he laughs. In that beautiful, symphonic way. It almost makes your chest ache as you watch him slip into the living room to debrief his right-hand man while you’re left to put your shorts back on.
Once you’re ready, you join the boys by the door, catching the tail end of their hushed conversation.
“—until tomorrow,” Harry is murmuring. “Unless we draw him out.”
“We will,” Asher replies, nodding once. “Matthews is a fucking idiot. He thinks he’s got a shot at infiltrating our system, he’s not gonna pass that up.”
“No,” Harry agrees. “Especially not after Sean—"
The muted discussion comes to an abrupt end when Harry’s eye catches you sneaking through the living room.
“Hi, sugar,” he calls, a bit louder than necessary, almost as if alerting Asher of your presence, too.
Asher turns, and when he sees you…he smiles.
“Hi,” you say back, nodding at the second-in-command.
“You ready?” Harry asks.
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to bring, but—”
“Asher’s got it,” Harry answers simply, shooting you a reassuring grin. “Don’t need to bring anything but that cute little ass.”
The teasing remark is a double-edged sword, and you and Harry exchange a smirk as your skin warms and Asher’s brow raises.
However, he doesn’t question it. “In that case…are you ready?”
You nod again. “I think. How far is it?”
“Couple hours,” Harry replies. “Just outside the city.”
“Is Paul coming?” 
“No.”
Your brow raises. “Okay…why?”
There’s a beat as Harry reaches into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve a cigarette and a match. “We’re not compromising your location,” he says as he places the filter between his lips and strikes the light. “S’better if fewer people know.”
“So, just you and Asher?”
“Mhm.” He inhales deeply before plucking the object between two fingers and pulling it free. “You’ll be safer that way.”
And despite how methodical he makes the whole affair sound, you know this is something he’s actively fighting himself on. 
He prioritizes you above all else, even when that means sending you two hours away so he can conduct a meeting with someone on the black market. 
But he hates it. You know he hates it. He absolutely cannot stand being away from you, especially in moments like this.
And he doesn’t want you to know just how weak you make him.
Fighting a gentle smirk, you stride toward him and snatch the cigarette from his grasp. 
He huffs as you smash the ashes against the wall, effectively putting out the light before tossing it into the trash can. 
“What have I told you about this?” you remind him, tone playful with just a hint of admonishment. 
He sighs, glancing down at the lost nicotine with a mournful frown. “Well, what else do you expect me to do?”
“I expect you…to kiss me,” you whisper as he drags his eyes back to you.
It doesn’t take much more for him to slip his fingers around the back of your neck and tug you to him, his mouth instantly colliding with yours.
It doesn’t matter that he’d already kissed you a mere ten minutes ago.
Because this kiss—and all of his kisses—are like snowflakes. Unique, and special, and one of a kind. 
It makes your stomach flip, and your head grow fuzzy, and your ears ring.
Because it’s never just a kiss.
It’s an unspoken vow of love and loyalty.
“I love you,” he whispers, soft enough that you imagine only you can hear.
You nod quickly as you press your lips into his bottom one. “I love you,” you repeat. “Don’t be stupid.”
He grins as he releases you. “Never.”
With that, you follow Asher out of the apartment, leaving Harry to finish a few things before heading to the warehouse. 
However, instead of Asher’s familiar car, you’re brought to a stop in front of a rather intimidating looking motorcycle.
“And what…is this?” you ask as he grabs a helmet off the handle.
He chuckles while outstretching it toward you. “What’s it look like, sweetheart?”
“You want to take this?” you nearly stammer, eyeing the dark black death machine. “What was wrong with your car?”
He lifts his shoulder in a casual shrug. “Not nearly as fun, now, is it?”
Your response is a flat expression, and he laughs again.
“There’s a higher chance of somebody recognizing my car,” he explains as he moves to swing his leg over the bike. “But they won’t recognize this.”
It’s an adequate justification you suppose. And you aren’t opposed to riding one. You and Harry used to ride together all the time back when you first met.
But never when you had a plug in.
Swallowing your nerves, you slip the helmet over your head as Asher starts the engine, his observant eyes flicking across the dash.
Straddling onto the back of the seat behind him, you watch while he revs the throttle, and props his foot up.
Then, he glances toward his shoulder. “You ready, sweetheart?”
You swallow, arms slipping around his dark black t-shirt. “Where’s your helmet?”
He smirks. “Only have the one. But I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”
You can’t help the disapproving frown that forms. “Ash—”
“Don’t worry,” he insists, chuckling as he returns his attention forward. “Just hold on, yeah?”
With that, the bike jolts forward, and you cement yourself to his back as he swings a right and leads you both out of the parking lot.
He’s on the highway in twenty seconds flat, swaying from side to side as he slips between the cars. It’s one effortless, fluid motion that makes your heart drop to your stomach, but more than that…it’s exhilarating.
In fact, you don’t even have time to be anxious when each bump you hit and turn you make stimulates the small object beneath you.
And you’re trying not to let it affect you. Trying so hard to keep your focus on the two-hour ride you have ahead of you.
But then the tires will roll over a small rock, and your eyes will roll back in your head.
Your fingers dig into the fabric on Asher’s chest as you squeeze for dear life. And he glances back from time to time, just to make sure you’re all right.
But you’re not all right. And you won’t be until you take this damn thing out.
“You okay?” he yells once you’ve left the city.
You nod. “Yeah,” you call back, although your boa constrictor-like grip suggests otherwise. “Just peachy.”
You catch his smile before he gets off the exit and begins down a seemingly abandoned back road.
There’s still ninety minutes to go, so you will yourself to relax. To focus on anything else besides the throbbing between your legs. Or the position of your clit against the seat. Or the way your chest is pressed to Asher’s back.
But it seems as though the entire universe is working against you in this moment, and despite your best efforts, you find that you’re losing the game.
And when the bike rounds a particularly sharp corner, it all comes to a hilt.
A rather airy moan slips free as you scratch your nails down his chest, and you catch the way he sneaks a look back at you.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again, seemingly unaware of the nature behind your noise.
However, speaking will only make things worse, so you nod mutely and pull your lip between your teeth.
This answer satiates him for a while longer before it happens again, and your whimpers become harder to hide.
He doesn’t question you this time around, but a quick glance over his profile proves that he’s beginning to understand why these noises are different.
And so familiar.
You’re thankful he doesn’t ask you to explain. That he doesn’t directly call out your subtle grinding or the desperate whines that dance through the wind and find him.
Instead, he carries on with the ride as though he hasn’t noticed, and this alone gives you the strength to keep your impending orgasm at bay.
After all, Harry would be quite disappointed to find out he’d missed such a sight.
And you don’t imagine starting off the evening with Harry’s disapproval will work in your favor.
The next hour feels like the slow crawl of death. The tortuous journey nearly dragging you to the finish line as Asher finally arrives at the gated building.
You just about moan with relief when he punches in the code, pulls into the parking lot, and brings the motorbike to a stop.
And the moment the engine is killed, you have to bite back a whine, thankful for the reprieve from the vibrations against your cunt.
Asher helps you stand to your feet before slipping the helmet off your head and placing it back on the handle.
You notice he’s smiling in that charming, boyish way. A look that you’re more than familiar with, and it instantly calms your remaining nerves as he leads you inside.
He spends the first few minutes surveying the premises. Checking each closet, door, and hallway for any security risks or planted bugs. He then radios Paul and instructs him to confirm to Harry that the location is secure.
Finally, once Asher is satisfied, he joins you in the living room, and returns his gun to his belt.
“How you feelin’?” he asks, perching on the edge of the seat just beside you.
You swallow thickly and squeeze your thighs a bit tighter together. “Hm? Oh, good. Yeah. Good. Better. Now that we’re…on the ground again.”
He exhales a gentle laugh, and you feel your cheeks fill with heat. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. It was…fun.”
His brow jumps up. “Yeah?”
Shit. You glance back down at your lap and nod once. “Mhm.”
Once again, he finds amusement through your timid behavior and lack of eye contact. But you can’t explain why, and you can’t exactly fight it. So, you surrender to the docile demeanor, keeping your focus on your cuticles as you wait for Harry to join you.
“Hey, Ash?” you venture after a moment, breaking the comfortable quiet.
His head turns to you.
“Are you…nervous? About tonight?” you begin hesitantly, letting yourself steal a glimpse of his quizzical expression. “I mean…is this something you really want to do? Or is Harry manhandling you into it?”
He laughs, and the warm sound echoes around the room. “Believe me, sweetheart. I am more than okay with it.”
You shift in your spot on the sofa, angling your body to fully face him. “Okay, but…are you sure? Just because he’s your boss doesn’t mean you have to do everything he says. He won’t kill you if you say no.”
He grins so big you can see his teeth. “That’s not why I agreed. I agreed because he was right. It’s my job to take care of you.”
You sigh, features playfully unamused. “I think this goes well beyond the specifications of your job description.”
“Maybe. But you’re his girl. And I’d do anything for either of you.”
“Even this?”
“Even this.”
“And it’s not…weird?”
“I don’t think so. Do you?”
You hesitate. “No…I’ve known you forever. I feel safe with you.”
“Good.” He seems genuinely pleased with this. “This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is about you. About both of you. Harry likes an audience and I’m happy to give him one.”
You suppose this is true. You’ve always known this about your boyfriend and truth be told, you can’t imagine a better audience than Asher.
You spend the next half hour or so exchanging stories about the aforementioned man. The different moods he has, the different coping methods he’s developed, and even a few of his more taboo kinks.
Asher remarks on how different Harry was when he was younger, although he’s not surprised that this is the man he became. And he’s happy that you found each other. That you can be Harry’s light.
And you’re happy that Harry can be your darkness.
Not long after, the security system calls a shrill word of warning from its spot on the wall as Asher leaps to his feet and heads for the door.
He sneaks a hand behind his back, fingers curling on the base of the gun still hidden beneath his belt while cautiously approaching. Then, after a quick look over the monitor, he presses a button and instantly steps back to allow the door to swing open.
And in strides Harry.
He looks about the same as when you left him. He’s still donning his dark, matte suit. His hair is still perfectly displaced, and his skin is still thankfully free of any blood.
A good sign.
But everything else is off. His ordinarily indifferent expression has grown hard. Unforgiving. His jaw seems to be clenched so tight, you’re worried he might chip a tooth. The veins in his neck are corded and pushing against his skin, and even from the sofa, you can see there’s an emptiness in his eye.
Asher begins to frown. “What happened?”
Harry’s head shakes as he looks from his right-hand man to you. “Not now,” he says simply, voice dripping with malicious disdain. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”
Instead, he brushes past Asher and makes a beeline for you. And your heart flutters inside your chest as you look up at the tall man coming to a quick stop before you.  
He reaches out and snatches your chin in his palm, gently but firmly tugging you upright until he can connect his lips with yours.
This kiss is angry. Vindictive. Filled with remorse and malevolent indignation. It captures each desperate gasp for air, and he swallows your timid compliance mercilessly. 
When he feels generous enough to allow you a breath, you’re tucked beneath his arm while he presses his mouth against your temple.
“How was it?” he whispers, and there’s a certain strain to his inquisition that suggests he’s wrestling a larger demon within himself. 
You nod gently and let the smell of his familiar cologne envelope you—calm you. “It was good.”
“Yeah?” He looks to Asher. “No problems?”
“Not…exactly,” Asher replies, and you watch the corner of his mouth dance with the idea of smirking.
Harry’s eyebrow raises. “And what does that mean?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a problem,” Asher explains, letting his focus fall to you. “But I think she did have a bit of an interesting ride.”
Harry’s head rolls until he can look down at you. “Oh?”
Your skin warms under the heat of his gaze as you tangle your fingers into his nice shirt. “Couldn’t help it. Felt so good, Har.”
You watch as Harry’s calloused features dissolve into that of smug intrigue. “I bet it did, mama. Does he know why?”
The spotlight swings to Asher, who stands a few feet away, exceedingly curious.
Your lips roll into your mouth as you shake your head.
Harry smiles. “Then why don’t you show him?”
Eager to do just that, you stand back, and lace your fingers around the waistband of your shorts.
Slowly, you turn around, and begin shimmying the denim material down your thighs. Then, you continue to guide the pants down to your ankles, body bending until they reach the floor.
And the moment you’re bent over, you hear Asher curse.
He’s got a direct line of sight to the purple object Harry placed neatly between your ass. And now he understands why the ride on his motorcycle was so…stimulating for you. Why it had you whimpering in his ear as he rocked the bike from side to side while racing through the mountains.
And after you’ve stood back up and turned around, you can see exactly what this revelation does to him.
Harry chuckles underneath his breath as he slips his palm across your bare hip, guiding you back to him. “S’pretty, isn’t it?”
Asher swallows visibly before forcing a curt nod. “Mhm. Very.”
“All nice and stretched for you,” Harry murmurs before grinning down at your hopeful expression. “Aren’t you, honey? You ready to take him?”
You nearly mewl as you nod your enthusiastic agreement, once more grasping onto his shirt as if to plead with him.
“I know,” he coos, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Bet it’s been aching all day, hm? Know you’re so excited.”
And you are. You’ve never felt more infatuated with an idea, and the longer they take to ruin you, the worse the need gets.
“My sweet girl,” he whispers, guiding his thumb toward your lips before slipping it inside your mouth.
You suck, instantly calmed as you sweep your tongue around him, and allow yourself to settle.
“Gotta go over some rules first, yeah?” he says, a bit louder now so you both can hear.
Asher steps closer.
“One…this is about you, mama,” Harry begins, echoing Asher’s earlier sentiments. “We’re not here to hurt you, or punish you, or make you feel unsafe. Is that understood?”
You nod.
He pops his finger free just to take hold of your jaw. “Two…you use your words. Always. You tell us that you’re okay or if you need to stop. If you don’t, I end it.”
You nod again, but he frowns.
“Okay,” you agree verbally, and he hums. “I will.”
Pleased, he carries on. “Three…” He turns to Asher now. “You don’t come inside her. Not her ass. Not her throat. Nothing. You pull out, you get yourself off, and that’s it.”
For some reason, you almost feel embarrassed by the unrelenting and rather strict condition that Harry proposes.
But Asher merely replies, “Understood.”
“And you wear a condom,” Harry adds. “I won’t risk her health because of this. I don’t care if you’re clean, I don’t care if you’re gentle. The only one that gets to feel her is me.”
“Understood.”
Harry’s attention returns to you. “If at any point you want to stop, or you want him gone, or you feel unsure…you fucking tell me. I don’t care if we haven’t come. I don’t care if you think you need to make us happy, make us finish. You tell me. And we’ll talk about it.”
Another resolute rule. “I know, Har. I will. I promise.”
But he’s not finished. “And if you slip into your subspace, then I make the call. If I think you need to be through, then we’re through. And I don’t want any whining or begging. We stop, and that’s that.”
The anticipation just about kills you. Already, your eagerness to be put in these situations lures you into a submissive state of mind. Until everything whittles down to what he’s saying. What he’s offering.
“Okay,” you breathe, bouncing on the tips of your toes. “Okay, I swear.”
He studies you for a moment. Perhaps looking for any deception or perhaps he’s deciding if you’re truly hearing him.
But you know he’s just as keen as you are to begin, so he nods his approval before tapping his finger over your mouth once more.
“Good girl,” he hums. “Now…take my rings off for me.”
Your breath hitches as you step closer, instantly taking hold of his wrist to hold his hand where you need it.
And both men watch as you lick your tongue up his palm and right toward his middle digit.
Once you’ve reached the tip, you wrap your lips around him and move down, teeth gently grazing his skin as you go.
You vaguely catch his mumbled curse as you reach the delicate piece of jewelry. But you pay it no mind, instead keeping your focus on swirling your tongue around the ring before latching onto it and sucking it back up.
Once it’s off, he holds out his other hand, and you let it drop.
He smirks. “Good girl. Now the others.”
You move to the next one, repeating the pattern of pulling and guiding, all while making sure to put on a show.
You never once deviate your eyes from his, allowing him to see just how much you enjoy completing such a menial, borderline degrading task.
And you let him know just how much you love when he’s in charge.
It’s rare he offers to let you take the reins. But when he does, it’s still quite fun. After all, he thinks it’s cute when you’re his dominant and you think it’s cute that he pretends you actually are.
Once his fingers are ring free, he slips his palm around the back of your neck and gives it a squeeze. “Bedroom. Now.”
Slightly disappointed to steal yourself from him, you nod and begin for the room just off the hallway.
The boys follow a few feet behind, and you can hear their soft murmurings, but you don’t inquire to know the details. You imagine you’ll find out soon enough.
Once you’ve all gathered around the mattress, Harry takes your hand, brings your knuckles to his lips, and winks.
Your skin warms from the rather innocent display of affection before he’s leading you to the bed. You’re placed between his legs while he settles back against the headboard, and the moment you’re comfortable, his large hands curl around your thighs and drag them apart.
Then, Asher makes himself known, crawling into the newly made space until he can nestle down onto his stomach.
He takes hold of your hips, and with a little help from Harry, manages to lift you up so he can slip a pillow beneath your ass.
You swallow.
“It’s Asher’s turn to taste you,” Harry tells you simply, dipping down until his mouth can dance across your ear. “And I’m gonna be nice…and let him.”
You push yourself into Harry’s chest, head dropping onto his shoulder as you scratch your nails down his arms. You can’t find a response. Don’t really need one. You just need them.
Asher seems encouraged by your willing silence, smiling to himself as he scoots closer and smooths his touch up your legs.
“You ready, sweetheart?” His voice is calm. Reassuring. Familiar and all around safe. 
You nod before Harry pinches your thigh and reminds you of his rule. “Yes,” you say aloud. “Yes, I’m ready.”
You feel Harry smirk against your cheek.
With that, Asher dives forward. You weren’t sure how he would feel. You know how his fingers feel. Know his touch, and his voice, and the way he looks at you.
But this…this is new. Wonderful, and soft, and just a bit dangerous.
It’s even a bit messy. How could it not be with the way you’ve been drenched since the moment Harry put the plug in. Truth be told, you’re not sure the difference between your arousal and Asher’s contribution. 
Either way, his large tongue licks up your cunt like this is the first drink of water he’s had in years. Like you’re the only remedy to his deprivation. As if he knows this is the first and only time Harry will ever allow him to taste you.
 He indulges in you. Nips at you with the fervent desire to feast. To lick through you, to devour you, to savor everything you have to offer.
He’s relentless and yet patient. He takes his time because he knows you have more to give. Knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.
“Look at you, mama,” Harry whispers, his strong fingers pressing marks into your tender skin as he keeps you spread. “Fucking love this, don’t you?”
And you do, so you nod zealously, whimpering beneath a pained breath as you squirm between Harry’s legs.
“How does he feel, hm?” he asks next, running his nose along your temple. “S’he making you feel good, honey?”
Your answer comes in the form of a salacious moan, your jaw going slack as you suck in a sharp breath.
“Is that a yes?” Harry pushes. “’Cause if he’s not…I’ll put a fucking bullet through his head.”
And you can feel Asher curse against your pussy before he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as you whine. 
The threat lingers for just a moment, met only with more needy whimpers, and lewd licks to your cunt. 
You don’t imagine Harry would ever follow through on such an ultimatum, but the look in Asher’s eye almost convinces you otherwise.
Harry’s decisions are rarely ever made through calm, sound logic. More often than not, his choices are the result of a short temper and lack of patience.
And you. Despite what he might tell you, you are the sole reason for his insanity. He will stop at nothing to keep you with him. Keep this little life you two have built.
And if Asher happened to compromise that…
You shiver from the very thought, and from the way your orgasm is beginning to unravel. 
“Are you close, sweet girl?” Harry murmurs, pulling you a bit wider. “Hm? Does it ache, baby? Need to let go? Need to come?”
You’re trying to nod, trying to breathe, trying to do anything but cry desperately as you writhe between his arms.
He only hums. “No.”
With that, Asher pops his mouth from your clit and straightens up, leaving your swollen, sensitive, and quite red cunt where he found it.
You wilt. Become absolutely unhinged as the loss of pleasure leaves you desolate and depraved. 
“Harry,” you nearly gasp, whining as you tug on his wrists.
“No,” he repeats calmly. “No, not gonna waste your first on him. Want your first around us, mama. Gonna be around our cocks, yeah?”
Truthfully, you want nothing else, and you just about purr as you murmur your agreement, and scoot back into his body.
He chuckles when he feels the way you’re trying to pull your legs from beneath his hands, clearly desperate for some sort of friction. And you hope he’ll have pity on you. At least let you find a bit of relief before you begin. 
However, he only smacks his large hand down your naked thigh in warning before you feel his mouth press to your cheek.
“No,” he repeats for a third time. “Enough. Told you to behave, didn’t I?”
You fight to catch your breath. “…yes.”
“So behave.”
God, you could just about come from his tone of voice alone. The angry and virile hiss that he only uses when he’s truly lost on you. In the need to own you, claim you, ruin you completely.
He smacks your leg again, albeit gentler this time around. “Up.”
A bit confused, you wearily push yourself onto your knees until you can straighten up and steal a glimpse of the man behind you.
He smirks when sees the confused expression on your face before jutting his chin toward his pants. “Take ‘em off.”
And you’re more than happy to oblige. So, while Asher stands from the bed and begins to strip himself of his own clothing, you get to work on Harry.
Shaky, excitable fingers move for the dark waistband around his hips. They pinch the zipper and drag it down before tugging on the material until it can slip down his legs.
You wiggle backward as you guide the pants off before tossing them aside to focus on his briefs.
And you just about drool when you get to see him. His strong, tan thighs. The muscles that quiver and dip as he scoots up. The way you can see the bulge straining against the fabric of his underwear as you greedily move closer.
The moment you make contact with the band, however, Harry snatches hold of your wrists to slow you down.
“Easy, mama,” he instructs softly, thumbs stroking across the joints of your hand. “You’re okay. Not nervous, are you?”
Having mistaken your trembling touch for unease, he attempts to pull you to him.
But you merely smile and shake your head. “No, I promise. I’m excited.”
“Are you sure?” His expression is quizzical. Scrutinizing. Looking to see if he needs to make a call you can’t make for yourself.
But you grin and surge forward, pressing your lips to his as he sighs. “Promise,” you repeat, using this distraction as an opportunity to rip his briefs down.
He hisses when his cocks comes free, forehead finding yours before he looks down to see it.
In fact, you both look, and you feel utterly mesmerized by the way it calls to you. The way it’s hard and ready to be touched.
All for you.
You’d take him into your mouth right now if that’s what he wanted but you know he wants to save each ounce of his pleasure for you.
So, you simply toss the underwear aside, and anxiously stare at his shirt.
This is what you’d like to rid him of next, but without his explicit instruction, you’re forced to wait. To stare at the black fabric until he realizes what it is you want.
And when he does, he smiles.
“All right,” he concedes, sitting up so you can peel it off. “Go ahead.”
You waste no more time, slipping your hands around the hem before pulling it up and over his head.
Now…you see him. All of him. Naked, and sculpted, and so goddamn beautiful. Your own work of art, right here in front of you, ready for the taking.
And you can’t wait to take him.
Now, the attention returns to you. You’re still in the oversized t-shirt you’d slipped on earlier, and while it’s quite comfortable, you know for Harry, this just won’t do.
So, he smooths his palms along your thighs, over your hips, and across your stomach before guiding the shirt up. 
You shiver with every brush of his skin against yours, and nearly whine when you feel his thumbs sweep just below the swell of your breasts.
But he doesn’t linger. Because of course he doesn’t. Instead, he plucks the material from your body, and tosses it onto the pile of clothes already gathering on the floor.
The bed dips, reminding you of your guest, and just before you can turn to see him, Harry grasps onto your jaw.
He keeps your focus on him, an emphatic frown sitting comfortably on his mouth. “Promise me.”
You hesitate, momentarily unsure what he means.
Then…you do. 
You squeeze his arm between both hands and smile gently. “I promise.”
And you’ve never seen him so happy.
A second body appears behind your own, a subtle warmth radiating from the soft skin as it ghosts across your back.
You quickly relax, already feeling safer from the way you’re sandwiched between the two men.
And Harry is pleased with this, letting his eyes flick to the second-in-command just over your shoulder. 
“Take it out,” he instructs before his hands move to your hips. “Gonna need to breathe, mama.”
 You nod as Harry pulls you over his lap, settling one knee on either side of his hips until you’re in the position to straddle him.
And Asher shuffles forward as well, kneeling between Harry’s bent legs while Harry scoots a bit further down until more of his back is on the mattress.
Then, you feel a set of fingers dance across your ass and toward the toy so snugly placed within. 
Your lashes flutter as Asher uses his other hand to sweep some of your hair over your right shoulder, allowing him a better view of your back.
“There you go,” he whispers encouragingly as he gets a grip on the plug. “Ready, sweetheart?”
You pull in a quick breath. “Yes.”
Harry smiles.
Without another thought, Asher begins to slide the object out of your tighter hole, agonizingly slow as Harry brings you toward his cock and pushes the head against you.
The dual sensation makes you stumble over a frantic gasp as you place your hands on Harry’s chest to brace yourself.
But this is only the beginning as Harry nudges himself through your soaked folds and toward where you drip for him.
Then…he thrusts up.
The moment his cock slips in, Asher completely removes the plug, leaving you empty and yet somehow full.
It’s confusing, and wonderful, and overwhelming. And you can’t seem to focus on any one thing as you hear the toy being tossed onto the mattress before Asher is bringing himself closer.
“Okay, honey, you all right?” Harry grits between clenched teeth, clearly fighting the urge to ram himself into you.
Or perhaps he’s merely fighting the sight of Asher pressing his chest to your shoulder blades.
Either way, you nod. “Yes, m’okay. Ready.”
“That’s our girl,” Harry breathes, and you hear Asher hum behind you. “Gonna have to relax for me, mama. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not gonna make it.”
You do your best to unclench. To mellow out, slacken the strain on your muscles. And it works, allowing Harry to push in a bit further as your chest just about caves in.
It’s enthralling, but it always is with him. And despite how well your body knows his cock, it continues to stretch for him, beckoning him in as he groans and digs his fingers into your thighs.
“There you go,” he murmurs, the muscles near the edge of his jaw twitching as he surges forward. “S’a good fucking girl. Taking me so well, sugar.”
You mewl as you wiggle over him, needing him to fill you all the way before you’ll feel fully satisfied.
And Asher attempts to help ease your neediness, familiar hands smoothing up your arms and toward your shoulders.
Then, he presses his lips to the side of your throat, and you just about collapse.
However, the moment your eyes roll back, Harry makes one final thrust, completely disappearing inside of you.
He curses as you whimper, a rather pathetic noise scraping from your throat as your head drops forward until your chin meets your chest.
“Fucking hell, mama,” he grunts, nails scratching patterns into your feverish skin. “Feel so good for me, sweet girl. You like sittin’ on my cock? Hm? Like getting to feel me in your tummy?”
But you can’t speak. Can’t. Your entire mouth has gone numb as Harry slowly begins to lift you back up just so he can thrust into you again.
“What a tight little pussy,” he seethes, the sound of him slipping through your arousal echoing throughout the air. “He’s gonna fucking love it, isn’t he? Gonna fucking love to feel you the way I do. Gonna make his fucking day.”
And almost as if to prove Harry’s point, you feel the head of Asher’s cock brush against your lower back until a sharp chill runs down your spine.
A thin layer of sweat has begun to coat your entire body as you impatiently wait for the second-in-command to join in. You know he won’t until Harry deems you ready, but you wish he’d just do it anyway.
It might be fun to see Harry mad.
Already, you feel that familiar tinge of pleasure making a home between your legs. It’s far too easy with the way you were edged earlier but now it just about ruins you.
“Okay,” Harry murmurs, his own chest rising and falling with quick breaths as he sheaths himself inside your cunt. “Okay, Ash, go. Go.”
And before you can even thirstily dwell on the implication of this permission, you feel another hand on your hip as the tip of Asher’s cock sweeps down your ass.
“Easy,” comes the sultry command of the man behind you. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, yeah? Just need you to breathe for me.”
“Okay,” you pant, head rolling back until it can settle into his shoulder.
He smiles against your cheek. “Doing so good. M’gonna go slow, okay?”
“Okay,” you repeat, eyes screwing shut from the lack of stimulation. 
You hear him pump himself a time or two, the sound of the lube he must have applied when you were focused on Harry making you whine. 
Then, you feel him pull your cheeks apart, and gingerly trail the tip of his cock between.
“Breathe,” Harry reminds you, straining to speak through his clenched jaw. “Make daddy happy, honey. Come on.”
So, you do. You suck in a greedy gasp for air, hold it in your lungs, and then release it back into the room. 
Pleased, Harry brings one hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between his fingers, and right as he does, you feel Asher slip in.
Your mouth drops open, a frantic moan catching in your throat as you roll forward, nearly collapsing onto Harry’s chest.
But he catches you. They both do, quick to encourage you back upright so Asher can continue, and you feel your mind grow hazy.
“There she is,” Harry whispers, kneading your tit in his palm. “Shit, mama. M’so fucking proud of you. Look so pretty right now, taking him. Does it feel good? You feel okay?”
And you appreciate his concern more than anything in the world, your heart fluttering in your chest as you nod.
“Yes,” you whisper, an airy reply that’s almost lost beneath the sound of Asher’s forced exhale. “I’m okay. Promise.”
Harry releases your chest to press his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking just below your eye. “My precious girl. Knew you’d behave for us. Love getting to see you like this. All fucked out and happy. Are you happy, sugar?”
You are. So utterly and unconditionally happy right now that you feel tears spring to your lash line as you turn to press your mouth into Harry’s palm. 
He sighs at the feel of your kiss against his skin, but the tender moment between you is cut short when Asher finally pushes in to the hilt, forcing a surprised whimper.
The overwhelming feel of both men—both cocks—stretching you from the inside out is almost more than you can handle. Because it’s everything. Everywhere. All at once. You know them both in the most intimate of ways, and a mangled cry rips from your tongue as they offer you a moment to adjust.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Asher asks, nudging his nose beneath your jaw. You can hear how hard he’s trying not to groan—can feel the restraint he’s using to keep himself still.
It takes you a minute to find a response, nearly winded from the all-consuming rush of pleasure.
Then, Harry taps your cheek firmly, and moves his hand to your throat. “Speak, mama. You know the rule.”
“I’m…yes,” you huff, attempting to roll your hips. “Yes, please…please, Har. Need…need—”
You watch his eyes flick to Asher before he swallows thickly and nods once. “Okay. All right, we’ve got you.”
And so begins the soft but purposeful thrusts. 
They work in tandem, easing out of you slowly just to push back in, basking in the sound of your wetness dripping down their cocks, and the way your body tenses.
They speak in hushed but lustful tones. Their hands never leave you, their focus never leaves you. 
Asher commits to kissing along the slope of your shoulder while Harry obligates his attention to running his fingers down your skin. 
 He scratches, and pulls, and squeezes every inch of your body. And he watches you. Watches you with the kind of adoration that makes the coil nearly snap into a million irremediable pieces.
Suddenly, Harry reaches around your hip to grasp onto Asher’s wrist, and you watch with wide eyes as he brings the right-hand man’s palm to your stomach.
Then…he thrusts up.
“Feel that?” he just about growls, looking between you. “That’s how fucking deep I am. That’s how well she fucking takes me.”
The pressure of their touch against the bulge in your belly has the whines falling miserably from your mouth. A sound that mixes almost wickedly with Asher’s own animalistic grunts as Harry hisses between clenched teeth.
This is what seems to set them off. Their rhythm switches from slow and soft to hard and fast. Needing to feel the way your warmth completely and wholly clenches down.
“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Asher grumbles, his chest knocking into your back with each snap of his hips. “You feel full? Feel good?”
“Yes,” you cry, nails scratching down Harry’s chest as you move in time with their pattern. “Please…don’t…don’t stop—”
“Never, baby,” Harry bites, driving in so deep, it almost hurts. “Fucking never stop. Give you everything—”
“Shit—”
“Can feel you, baby. Feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna come? Gonna come for us?”
“Yes…yes, yes—”
“Yeah? Go ahead, mama. Fucking come. Let him feel how fucking good you are to me. Let him know what it’s like to have you coming around his cock—”
You scream something akin to his name when it hits you, eyes rolling so far back, you see stars. 
You lose time. Lose everything, nearly lose consciousness. And they don’t stop. They fuck you through every second, and the sounds they make almost send you into a second.
You can’t differentiate between the two, but your ears fill with the melodic sound of whimpers and grunts of appreciation as they fuck themselves deeper. As they hit each spot so perfectly that it almost kills you. 
But Harry’s not through. He presses his fingers into your clit and chases after another orgasm. Pinching and pressing and rubbing until you’re attempting to squirm away from him, begging him to stop, to let you breathe.
Your cheeks are stained with ecstatic tears as you come undone for a second time, quicker but still blissfully euphoric. 
“Please, please, please,” you hear yourself whine, slumping forward as Asher wraps an arm around your middle to keep you upright. “Please…Har…please. Can’t…can’t…”
“Shh, you’re all right,” comes the distant but gentle sound of Harry’s voice, vaguely keeping you present as your mind attempts to float away. “So fucking proud of you, mama. M’not through with you yet.”
“Please…”
“Easy, honey. It’s okay. Just gonna play with you a little longer. You’ll let Daddy play you with your little clit, yeah?”
You nod mutely, humming to yourself as he pinches the sensitive nerves between the pads of his fingers. “Har…”
“I know,” he coos as Asher releases a deep breath in your ear. “Hurts, doesn’t it? All swollen, aren’t you?”
Again, you can do nothing but move your head up and down lazily as you lean back into Asher’s chest. 
“Gonna give me one more, baby,” Harry instructs, thrusts faltering the closer he nears his own release. “Just one fucking more, and Daddy will be so proud. Both be so proud of you.”
And that alone is enough to encourage your compliance, forcing the third to hit you fast like a runaway train before you can even see it coming.
You make it about halfway through the glaringly wonderful rush of endorphins when Harry is suddenly straightening up, placing a hand on Asher’s shoulder, and shoving him back.
Asher’s cock slips from your hole as he’s pushed away from you, leaving you to gasp. 
“No,” Harry seethes, shooting a malevolent and unyielding look toward his second-in-command. “You’re done. You fucking finish over there.”
You aren’t afforded the chance to understand just what’s occurred before Harry is settling back onto the bed and thrusting his hips upward.
His cock completely disappears inside your pussy, forcing a debauched sound to bleed from your mouth as he twitches and finally releases himself into you.
And it’s exactly like you remember. Warm, and good, and exciting. The look on his face as he fills you. The way his tan skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and the beautiful sounds that slip between his lips. 
You’d stay here a lifetime if you could.
Which seems to be his intention because even after he’s finished, he refuses to let you move. Instead wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest, his chin meeting the top of your head. 
He keeps his cock warm inside you for quite some time. All throughout the sound of Asher pumping himself off until he comes over his hand and stomach.
Minutes pass until the room falls silent. Until you’ve all caught your breath and found your way back to the present.
Eventually, Harry shifts, and you can hear him murmur something to the man behind you. 
You don’t catch it through your hazy state of mind, but you feel comforted in hearing the familiar cadence of their voices.
You’re scooped up into a pair of arms and walked into another room. You blink the fog from your eyes as Asher flips on the shower and Harry places you back onto your feet.
You’re kept steady as you’re guided beneath the warm, gentle stream of water and you instantly nuzzle your face in Harry’s chest as he chuckles.
The two men dedicate their time to running some soap down your body, between your legs, along your back, and across your chest.
Harry is gentle when he massages the shampoo into your hair, despite the way you pout as you’re pulled from his body.
But the moment he’s finished, you bury yourself back into his arms, smiling to yourself when you feel his chest vibrate from laughter.
Asher and Harry continue their quiet conversation as they clean themselves. Still, you can’t quite decipher the distinct words or topic of conversation, but do manage to make out one exchange in particular:
“Are you sure?” Asher asks.
“Always,” Harry whispers. “We will always be hers.”
Once thoroughly bathed, they help you step out, and lead you back to the bedroom. Harry is there to put you in clean underwear and one of his shirts while Asher gathers his things and heads back to the living room to keep watch for the night.
“Sleepy girl,” Harry hums as he lays you onto the mattress before slipping in behind you. “M’so fucking proud of you, honey. Thank you for letting us make you feel good.”
And you giggle to yourself, confused as to why Harry would need to thank you for something like that. “Always.”
He chuckles as well.
Sometime in the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, you feel a particular and familiar chill travel up your cunt and settle in your stomach. 
After shaking the sleep from your mind, you push up onto your elbows and glance down.
You see Harry’s tattooed arm peeking out from between the blankets, rolling and flexing in time with the blissfully sweet ministrations between your thighs. 
Then, you see Harry.
“Shh,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to your jaw. “M’sorry, mama. But I need one more. Need your last one to belong to me.”
You smile as you nuzzle into him, nodding quickly in support. “Please, Har…”
“I know,” he replies, trailing his tongue down your neck. “Gonna make it better.”
With that, he takes his hand from your cunt only to wrap his fingers around the fabric of your underwear…and rip.
It snaps from your body as you gasp and instantly wiggly against the mattress, still sensitive from everything else before.
Then…he tosses it toward the shadows in the corner of the room.
Your eyes follow the lace as it’s flung through the air, choking on a whimper when you see a hand quickly outstretch to capture it.
Asher.
He’s sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, smirking at you both as you attempt to work out what you’re seeing. The soft light from the moon outside the window cascades across the side of his face. Just enough for you to make out his intrigued expression.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he calls, and the teasing but always caring sound of his voice makes you sigh contently.
“Hold these for me, yeah?” Harry instructs his partner, who nods and tucks the underwear into his fist.
Then, Harry’s attention returns to you.
“Think you can give me another?” he murmurs, grinning down at you with so much love, it makes your chest ache.
You shiver as the tips of his fingers return to your clit.
“Always.”
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God, why do I love them??? Technically this is the end but I will be doing blurbs because I am needy and cannot let them go!!!
Thank you to everyone that's read and been so kind!!! I appreciate you so much!! As does Asher, who would not have had such an important role if it weren't for all of his fans!! 💞💞
Next Part:
~ Remedy* (A Mine Extra)
Previous Parts:
~ Mine* (Pt. 1)
~ Ours* (Pt. 2)
~ Yours* (Pt. 3)
~ Theirs* (Pt. 4)
~ Full Mine Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Tag List:
@vamprry @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virqinvirgo @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses
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gurugirl · 1 year
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Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs
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Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.
NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!
Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)
Daddy kink
Enemies to lovers
Summer vibes & party fics
Personal faves from my own writings
Other blogs I love
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@1d1195
One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.
@a-strange-familiar
Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.
@adorebeaa
One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…
@awideworldoffanfics
Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.
@be-with-me-so-happily
Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)
Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...
One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.
Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.
@bopbopstyles
Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)
@fkinavocado
Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)
Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)
One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs
@freedomfireflies
Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.
Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?
Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!
@goldenbuckyyy
Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)
@harryistheonlyoneforme
One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)
@harrywritingsbyme
Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT
@helladirections
Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 
One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.
One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 
@itslottiehere
One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.
@jawllines
Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)
Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)
Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)
Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry
Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)
@jarofstyles
King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry
Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry
Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.
@lemoncrushh
Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II
One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II
@lukesaprince
Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)
Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)
Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).
Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.
@moonchildstyles
Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry
Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry
Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry
Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry
@0oolookitsme
One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 
One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n
@0nlythrowharrybeaux
Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.
Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.
@pleasingforharry
Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.
@purplekiwis
Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.
In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…
One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)
@s-brant
Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.
One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.
@stylesloveclub
Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 
@swiftmendeshoran
Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader
@watchmegetobsessed
Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.
Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.
Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader
@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)
One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader
@zayndrivesmeinvain
Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry
i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!
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Wattpad
1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)
Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.
_miiki
Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.
Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly
Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them
ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom
Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.
Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)
Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?
Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty
Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.
MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)
Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark
Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?
Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"
Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)
Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.
Petit_cerise
Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.
Sunflowersnstuff
Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.
ThousandYearsOfHope
Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?
Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.
Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)
Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."
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unabashegirl · 2 months
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MASTERLIST
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ONE SHOTS
Kings of Leon
Wear something noticeable || Part 2
Equatorial Sun
What are you doing up?
My head is spinning over you
Pax Romana
Harry's grammy performance
You lied to me
Chocolate cake
Golden Boy
Nameless
Meeting her || Part 2 || Part 3
INSTAGRAM BLURBS
Dating hints
Pregnancy
Sadie Sink
Elsa Hosk
Lori Harvey
Pudderfly
Deepika Padukon
Dakota Johnson
Matilda Djerf
Gracie Abrams
Bella Hadid
SERIES
if you want to get ahead and get access to all chapter then check out my patreon!
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Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?
masterlist
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Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.
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Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is forced to return to the town where she was born for extraordinary reasons. Her father is extremely sick and on the verge of passing away. Alsfield has changed and is far from what she remembers and even though she lived in town until her high school graduation she barely recognizes it. The town hides a big secret from a few individuals that live in it including Y/N. The man who maintains the town's secret and protects it is no other than Harry Styles. Things take a sudden twist when they meet. Numerous things will impede Y/N from returning to San Francisco to her somewhat ordinary life, will she be able to abandon the town that she had successfully escaped the first time? What is the big secret that the townspeople are hiding, and what is Y/N's role in it? Who is Harry? Where does he come from? Had she met him before? And what does he want from her?
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Summary: Harry is just like any other college student. He is a senior in Chicago University. He keeps to himself except when he is spending time with his closest friends, Sarah and Mitch. His world revolves around his future career, friends, and family. His quiet and routine driven life takes a turn, one weekend when he meets Y/N Y/L/N. She is way too different from him. She spends most of her days surrounded by people who care for superficial and materialistic things. Her parents are never home, and they think that with money everything can be solved. They are both from different worlds yet something that night clicks and Y/N can never again get him off her mind.
masterlist || EXCLUSIVE FOR PATREON SUBSCRIBERS
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blouisparadise · 4 months
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Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics that feature breastfeeding or lactation. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Come Here (And Rescue Me) | General Audiences | 2,139 words
“It’s because of people like you that the world is going to the dogs.” The woman barked with scorn. Her eyes were as dark as her soul and Louis held Apollo closer when he started to whimper, being very in tune with his surroundings. “Breastfeeding in a park? Where do you think you are? We’re not in one of these poorly developed countries where you can act in such a discourteous way and…” “I’m sorry, but could you get lost?”
2) Effervescent Opal, Say My Name | Mature | 3,463 words
Louis has an oversupply of milk after his first pregnancy and Harry wants nothing more than to suck him dry.
3) Stuck On Me, Stuck On You | Not Rated | 8,738 words
It’s not a big deal that Harry and Louis grew up together, and not a big deal that Harry is in love with Louis since he can remember. But it’s a big deal that Louis is pregnant and has no idea who the father is.
4) Could Start A Cult | Explicit | 8,750 words
He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.
5) I Don't Want To Close My Eyes (I Don't Want To Miss A Thing) | Explicit | 13,605 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis is married to Liam and pregnant with his child. Liam isn't ready to be a father, but Dr. Harry Styles is more than willing.
6) Three's A Crowd, Four's A Party | Mature | 16,569 words
"Morgan, sweetie, mommy and daddy have something we want to talk to you about." The little girl looks at them confused, having no idea what's about to happen. "First I want to tell you that we love you very much and nothing will ever change that, okay?" "I love you too!" Louis smiles. "What we wanted to talk to you about is that there's going to be some changes around here soon." "Why?" "Because mommy's having a baby."
7) Mob Boss Omega | Mature | 16,786 words
Mafia "any organized group using extortion and other criminal methods" In all definitions, I am in line for the throne. As the son of a mob boss I'm set to inherit everything my father has built up. He's always been set on expanding though and who better to use than his overprotected omega son. That's me in case you're wondering. The crown omega prince of the mob.
8) Baby, Loving You’s The Real Thing | Explicit | 21,011 words
Harry never thought he’d be taking care of a child at the age of twenty-one—well, trying to anyway.
9) Fell For You | Explicit | 26,136 words
A crime investigation fic in which Detective Louis Tomlinson and Detective Harry Styles are tasked to solve a case together where Louis hates Harry Styles or does he?
10) For Your Eyes Only | Not Rated | 26,501 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis likes to feel beautiful and taken care of. Harry is just the person to help. They figure it out together.
11) Just Forget The World | Explicit | 42,861 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis is the last person on earth who can get pregnant after the birthrates decreased then completely stopped twenty years before and in search for someone with good genetics and a family tree Harry is chosen to mate with him.
12) I'm Me When I'm With You | Mature | 86,123 words
AU in which Louis finally is able to attend the University he’s been dreaming off: Queens University. But fate works in mysterious ways and it certainly doesn’t care about your dreams nor your plans. No, fate had a whole other future planned for him the moment he met the popular, gorgeous and mighty Alpha named, Harry Styles who accidentally impregnates him after a one nightstand… Accidents happen, but not all accidents are bad.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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cherryblossomwriting · 3 months
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The debt
Summary: “Y/N’s brother owes Harry money. However, he is unable to pay the debt. So Harry decides to strike a deal that involves Y/N”
Tags: Dom!Mafia/Gang Harry x Innocent/Virgin Y/N
Note: Everything mentioned in this writing is consensual. Harry and Y/N both are 18+
Also, this writing has not been proofread so please ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes! 
W.C: 1442 
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Y/N was in her pyjama set when she heard the doorbell ring. She wasn't really expecting anyone at 2pm on a sunday afternoon. She had just turned 18 last month and decided to move into her brother's flat. The best part was that the rent wasn't really high, she got her own, private room and also soon realised that her brother was rarely ever at home (god knows what kind of activities he is involved in). She had just completed her long college assignment and was planning on napping for a while. She made her way to the door to see who it was. She opened the door slightly, just enough to poke her head out to see who it was. The tall man with a chiselled face, toned body and long, brown locks reaching his shoulders, she gasped when he harshly pushed the door completely open. 
“Hi, umm are you looking for someone?” Y/N squealed. “Ahh, didn't know he had just an innocent little pretty sister” the man murmured. “Where's your brother?” he asked in his deep voice. “How can his voice be so deep and rough and still be as smooth as honey?” She thought to herself. “Umm.. I am not sure he hasnt come home in two days” she replied. “Oh, is it? I want you to call him right fucking now and tell him to come home” he cocked slyly. She casually bent down to pick up her phone that was lying on the sofa, without realising how her short shorts hiked up to reveal the bottom of her ass. He could feel his cock stir in his pants. There was something about her innocence that turned him on. She called her brother's number and asked him to come home. “He is coming home in 10 mins,” she answered shyly, unintentionally biting her lip (she did that when she was nervous). That lip bite made him go furreal, he wanted to bite that lip. Push her down and take her right on that sofa. Ruin her. Destroy her. Fuck her. 
After 10 mins, y/b/n entered the house, not expecting to see Harry there. “H-hey, Harry. How are you? W-what are y-you doing here?” he asked with a blank expression. His face looked like he just saw a ghost. “Harry… what a sexy name” Y/N she thought to herself. “You motherfucker, cut the bullshit, you know exactly why I am here. To collect my money. It has been 6 months for fucks sake. I want my bloody money right fucking now or I will hesitate to show you who is in power here.” he roared with dominance. He slightly lifted his suit to show the gun that rested on his hip. 
“H-harry you know how things have been for me, I don't have a penny to give you right now. I-I promise, I will pay you by the end of this month. Please,believe me.” “Over my dead fucking body will I give you more time. You've been saying the same thing to me for the past 4 months. Do you think I am stupid? Have you forgotten who I am? Do i need to remind you about who youre fucking talking to? I am the fucking drug kingpin of London, it wont take me a minute to kill you and throw your body in a place where no one will ever find it.” he smirked knowing the effect his loud and dominating voice has on people. 
Y/N was terrified to say the least. “Why does her brother owe money to the fucking drug mafia leader? Will he actually kill my brother? No, I have to save him!” she thought to herself. She mustered up her strength and said, “N-no, please don't kill him. P-please.” 
“Oh baby girl, I'm afraid I might have to if he doesn't pay up.” the mafia leader uttered. 
“Y/N, go to your room. I can handle this myself, I don't want you to get involved,” y/b/n said. 
“You know what I have a deal for you. I will forgive the loan. On one condition. You have to let me fuck your sweet little, innocent sister” harry said. “W-what. N-no. that's my sister dude” y/b/n said. “Im not your fucking dude. You have two options and they are in front of you.” Harry said while roughly squeezing y/b/n cheeks and jaws. 
Y/N couldn't believe her ears and eyes at the moment. “He wanted to fuck me? I am a virgin. Do I really want to lose my virginity to this man? I mean no doubt he is fucking hotter than the devil but he was in the mafia for fucks sake.” These thoughts were spiralling in her brain. 
“O-ok, I-I am ready. If that's what it takes to save my brother's life. I am ready” Y/N retorted. 
“Y/N you don't have to do this. There are other ways” y/b/n said. “I don't think you have much of a choice right now anyways. I will be taking her to my mansion and she will be safely dropped back home once I'm done with her,” he smirked, winking at me. “I will go change and then we can leave” Y/N said as she walked her way to her room.
Y/N changed into my favourite white, bow dress pairing it up with stockings and boots. If im doing this might as well do it properly. Y/N looked in the mirror one last time before leaving my room and going towards Harry. “Ooh you've already got me so hard baby. You have no idea what you're in for. I hope you don't like this dress and stockings because they are going to be torn apart” he whispered in her ear. He held her arm and they left the flat.  
They drove up to his humongous mansion. He took her to his bedroom. He swung the door open and pushed her on his bed. “I will make sure to pleasure you so much that there will be fat tears streaming down your eyes,” he said. He pushed Y/N on his bed and took both her legs in his left hand and with his right hand he tore open the flimsy stockings. “Spread your legs fo’ me” he commanded. As she spread her legs, he started licking long strips up her slit. “Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he moaned and kept fucking her with his tongue while his fingers rub on her clit. “On your knees and hands, NOW!” he demanded. Y/N quickly was on all fours. “I will make sure this pussy remembers who fucked it so good. It was made fo’ me” He poked his tip on her entrance and slowly entered her weeping hole, inch by inch. “Please, do something it hurts” Y/N cried out. “Oh, yeah, then you're gonna live what I'm about to do next.”  He pulled out completely. “Why did you pull-ohh,” Y/N moaned and he thrusted his 9-inch cock all at once. He started relentlessly pistoning his cock right in her virgin hole. He kept fucking her doggy-style. 
He held you by your stomach and turned you on your back. His cock re-entered her pussy. “I love seeing your face when I enter you. You’re perfect. It's like you were made for me” he said as he kept thrusting in you. “Bloody hell, you have the perfect, perky tits” he said as he took your left nipple in his mouth and kept sucking on it like his life depended on it. He took your other nipple in his fingers and kept pinching and fondling them. “Im gonna cum, oh god” she said as his movements became faster, wanting her to cum first. He saw her eyes roll at the back of her head as her fingers grasp the expensive, velvet sheets and a moan erupts from the depth of her throat  as she feels the euphoric high. After she rides her high, Harry cums deep inside her, coating her insides white with his milky cum. He has never cum this much. He slowly pulls out and falls on top of her, his head hidden in the crook of her neck. 
His thick cum oozing out of her glistening pussy. He feels himself harden again at the site of his cum flowing out her pussy. 
“Are we done?” Y/N asks shyly. “Oh baby, this is just the start of the night, you have no idea of what you're in for” he says as he slowly enters her pussy once again. 
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Note: Please let me know your thoughts and views about this piece in the comments below. All support is appreciated.
Lots of love
xoxo
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angelisverba · 6 months
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jealous mafia h 😌😌😌
oh boy 🤓 this one will be fun i think
y/n is just a woman in the same way that harry is just a man. so she’s going to look, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to act.
however, harry doesn’t know that.
there’s a very beautiful man that harry’s doing business with. he’s not the most beautiful, because to her that will always be harry. but he was very interesting and pleasing to look at. they’re at dinner, y/n seated next to her lover across from Matthias- the thick, brawny, sun-bronzed, Sicilian Mafia leader- when harry tenses.
they’re dressed to the nines in this fancy ass restaurant, y/n in a silky dress with a back so low if she moves incorrectly her unmentionables show. it’s not happening however, because her spine is ramrod straight and her hands are in her lap, legs crossed. she looks perky, pretty.
harry has drifted out of the conversation because he can’t stop looking at his beautiful girl, and also because something isn’t sitting right with him. she’s… paying too much attention. normally she’s pinching his thighs or huffing in her seat, her foot kicking in it’s crossed position to show her impatience. but now right now.
she’s paying rapt attention to matthias. her eyes a little doe like with interest and it makes him so fucking mad because normally y/n is giving him that look. his blood boils and his fingers dig into the arms of his chair, itching to dig into something. so he puts his hand on her thigh and squeezes, but she doesn’t even fucking look at him.
“darling,” he mumbles quietly. giving her thigh another squeeze to get her attention. he says it quietly enough that no one else hears him. the new york mafia godfather and the italian conversing about their motherland.
y/n leans microscopically in his direction with a distracted, “hmm?”
and it does it for him.
“y/n, what the fuck. are you doing?”
and this gets her attention.
she snaps to attention, giving him those mooney eyes and an innocent smile that wobbles in the corners because she knows what she’s done and she knows what she’s in for when they get home.
“nothing, daddy,” she whispers, placing her hand over the one that is now digging into her flesh almost painfully. it makes her clit throb and heat and the seam of her pussy clench with anticipation.
he’s incredibly hard in his pants because he can't stop imagining what he's going to do with her when they get home. how he's going to stuff her so full of his cock it will be the only thing she can think about, and how y/n will be fucked so stupid buy him, that the only thing that will leave her mouth is his name in varying volumes. how fucking dare she look at another man? did he not fuck her good enough?
"don't fucking lie-"
"m'not," y/n's eyes are round, filled with a little panic.
"brat," he spits, jaw clenched. his appetite gone. they're only in the middle of the second course, and he was wondering how he could leave the lunch without angering the other king pin's and accidentally starting a crime war. "want your eyes on me or on your plate until we're done here, understood?"
"yes, daddy."
"and when we get home i'm going to fuck you so hard you wont ever look at another man like that again."
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doodlingstuff · 6 months
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Many people complain about the "lack of logic" in AFTG but let me explain why it's in fact, logic:
It's a magic system.
In the same way that fantasy authors create rules for their magic worlds to work, All For the Game does the same, except that it uses rules very similar to the ones of our world and that's why some (many) things seem weird.
See, in books like Percy Jackson, for example, we get introduced little by little to the powers of demigods, mythological creatures, and weird gods little by little in such a way that we accept it because that world works like that. Is it logical that a dyslexic kid suddenly reads Greek and has powers? Have you met one like that?
Not likely, but we don't question that and follow along instead because that's how things go in that particular universe.
Think about any other fantasy novel out there.
Harry Potter, the Grishaverse, Narnia, ACOTAR, Lunar Chronicles, Hunger Games... You tell me.
They all have magic systems.
In AFTG should happen the same.
In that particular world it happened that a kid got drugged out of his mind legally, that another one manages to hide from the most powerful mafia with cheap dye and contacts, and that someone else manages to play at his fullest after escaping a cult around a fictional sport of all things.
If any of that would happen in our world, it would be absurd, but we get hooked into the books because that's how that world works. (And because it's character driven, Neil is a force narrating and some other elements that will have to wait for their own rant)
So, next time you read AFTG, don't think how illogical it is and how ridiculous it can be but assume that in that universe, that's how things work and enjoy the wild ride.
Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.
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rosepetalsinwinter · 2 years
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Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (2)
Chapter 2 — Nathan Acosta
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Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader
Word count: 8,273
Summary: Our stalker is getting bolder. Will he finally get what he wants?
Warning: slight substance abuse
Note: Not my best work. I apologize in advance.
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Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi
Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist
Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3
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“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!”
— Oscar Wilde
April 23, 2018
“You’re smiling like a dork.” A masculine voice interrupted the girl’s fantasy, making her stand straighter. Her smile, however, did not waver. “Did you finally find that limited edition of The Hobbit you were looking for?”
Dove and Peter were lounging on the tiny loveseat in the corner of the room, watching what sounded like a horror movie—if the blood-curdling screams were any indication—on Dove’s laptop. Even sitting, Peter appeared tall, with his long legs perched on the coffee table, taking up most of the space. His light brown hair skimmed the top of his ears, and his lips stretched into a lazy grin.
Peter often spent his days at their dorm, wanting to be as close to Dove as possible. The two were still in their honeymoon phase—had been since they got together, and were constantly attached to each other. It was something the girl could never have but always wanted… until now. Now, her ideal life seemed a bit closer than before. Close enough to see and maybe skim teasingly with the tip of her fingers.
It was laughable to think that when the girl and Peter first met, he inexplicitly asked her out, then Dove strutted in through the door of the café, loudly cursing one of her professors out.
Peter liked to think it was love at first sight. Dove did as well, though she pretended not to.
What first felt awkward and uncomfortable was now as normal as the colour of the sky. The girl considered Peter a brother and Dove a sister.
Dove pushed Peter’s arm away from her shoulders and sat up to properly look at her friend. “No,” she smirked mischievously, “she’s smiling because her date went well.”
The girl bit her lips harder to stop from giggling like a schoolgirl. She wrapped her arms around her waist and plopped down on the rocking chair across from her friends.
“Tell me I’m right!” Dove demanded excitedly, shouting in earnest when she received a shy nod.
“Date? Who went on a date?” Peter questioned.
Both girls burst into giggles, unable to hold back their excitement. “I did! Can you believe it?”
“What?” Peter’s eyes widened almost comically. “When?”
“Would you like to know the where and why too?” Dove snarked.
“Yeah, and don’t forget the who!” Peter hissed, making Dove roll her eyes.
“When?” the girl replied. “Just now. And where? The Lounge on Discovery Street. Why?... because he asked me.” She burst into another round of giggles.
“Who asked you?” Peter demanded impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground, his chest puffed unnaturally in a display of robust manliness. “I wanna see meet him.”
Dove snorted at his reaction. “Alright, you can drop the big brother act. It doesn’t suit you.”
Peter ignored her, averting all his attention to the girl. “Who?” he repeated.
She took a deep breath, trying and failing miserably to keep the excitement from her voice. “Nathan.”
“Choi?” Peter’s face seemed to relax. “He’s a cool guy. I cheated off of him for my International Relations midterm.”
The girl made a face. “But he took Abnormal Psychology with me. I remember because he did a presentation about Project Monarch, and a guy started crying during it.”
Dove snapped her fingers. “You didn’t sleep at all that week. We built a fort in my room and binge-watched Harry Potter!”
“He used visuals! It was scary!” She shook her head. It didn’t matter. “He couldn’t have taken International Relations with you if he was busy traumatizing Abnormal Psychology.”
Peter scratched the back of his head. “I failed it last semester. So I had to retake it.”
The girls stared at him in shock. Peter had never failed a class before.
“The course never made sense to me!” Peter defended. “Choi did me a solid by turning his paper toward me when he noticed me peeking. He’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
Dove broke out of her shock first by snorting in disbelief. “She didn’t go out with Nathan Choi.”
“Then?”
“I went with Nathan Acosta,” the girl answered.
Peter went deathly still the second she finished speaking. “What?” he gritted out, though the girls seemed oblivious to the tension festering inside him.
“You know him,” chimed Dove. “He’s on the Hockey team.”
“You went out with Nathan Acosta?” Peter clarified.
“Yes,” she told him.
“Acosta? Not Choi?”
Gradually, the girl noticed the tenseness in her friend's jaw, and the anger in his eyes. She swallowed hard. “I’m going out with him again. Tomorrow.”
Dove screeched with happiness, bouncing on the couch like a little kid, but Peter only became bolder and more assertive. “No, you’re not,” he told her.
“What?” the girl asked in confusion.
“You’re not going out with him.”
Even Dove was confused and had no words for once.
“What do you mean?” The girl asked with a nervous laugh.
“He’s bad news, Kitty. Acosta’s not a good guy,” Peter explained.
“Bullshit,” Dove finally spoke up. “He’s my friend. He doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body.”
Peter grit his teeth together. “That’s what he wants you to think. He’s an asshole.”
“Right, because you two are such good friends,” Dove said sarcastically. “You would know his character.”
“You think I’m lying?” Peter snapped, patience running thin. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“The fuck am I supposed to know? You got in a stupid fight with him last year. Maybe you’re still pissed.”
“What fight?” the girl asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Dove replied, “it was just a misunderstanding.”
Peter scoffed. “It wasn’t a fucking misunderstanding. That fucker knew exactly what he was doing.”
Voices got loud, the language offensive, and the girl couldn’t help but feel that her friends were keeping something important from her. Dove and Peter bickered back and forth, exchanging harsh opinions and degrading each other.
“What did he do!?” the girl exploded. She was the quiet one, always composed and level-headed, so to witness her screaming in frustration caused both of her friends to trail off in silence.
“Acosta made a pass at Dove,” Peter said evenly. “He implied she would spread her legs for anything that moved.”
Dove scoffed with indignation. She was not shy about her endeavours and found pleasure with a string of various lovers before meeting Peter. “Nathan’s a harmless flirt,” she insisted. “And he jokes about everything. He used to sleep around, but he’s changed. He had a serious girlfriend, but she moved, and he couldn’t do the long-distance.” Dove turned to the girl. “I wouldn’t have encouraged you to go out with him if I thought he would hurt you,” she swore.
That couldn’t be right. Could it?
“Marilyn?” The girl demanded desperately.
“What?”
“The girlfriend,” she explained. “Was her name Marilyn?” The girl swallowed nervously.
“Yeah.”
Oh.
“Why are you asking?” Peter inquired suspiciously.
“No reason,” she lied, speaking calmly while her heart broke in half.
Still, her friends insisted on an explanation. She denied them with a shake of her head, unable to voice what was bothering her.
“She’s the one who broke it off,” Dove explained, thinking her friend was put off by a clingy ex. “Nathan wasn’t too upset and got over it quickly.”
Peter scoffed from beside Dove, but she ignored him. “He doesn’t have any baggage you need to worry about.”
“It’s not that,” the girl insisted.
“Then?” Peter questioned softly.
The answer was right at the tip of her tongue, but saying it aloud would make it real. “Nathan lied to me,” she admitted quietly, then recounted to them her earlier conversation. “Why would he do that?” Her voice wobbled, on the edge of tears.
“Because he’s a son of a bitch,” Peter grumbled.
“That asshole.” Dove readily admitted her mistake, consoling her friend, and the three decided that Nathan was indeed bad news and that the girl would stay away from him. “He doesn’t fucking deserve a kind soul like you.”
She wiped away hot tears as she went to bed, feeling completely and utterly alone. Perhaps that was how it was meant to be, and that was how she would die, with no one to call her own.
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April 24, 2018
Her brother introduced her to Jim Hawkins when she was six years old. Granted, many could say she was too young to be exposed to such violent storytelling, she immediately fell in love with Treasure Island. It was terrifying, scary, and the vivid imagery kept her up at night, but the allure was too strong.
She begged her brother to read it to her whenever he visited. He would laugh, warn her that he wouldn’t comfort her after (though he always ended up doing so) and read to her in an embarrassing English accent.
He always teased that she would become a pirate when she was older, but it was he who was obsessed. Perhaps he was jealous of young Jim Hawkins and the freedom he had. Eventually, his obsession transferred from Jim to Jim’s creator. Robert Louis Stevenson this, and Robert Louis Stevenson that.
Her brother became a sort of walking encyclopedia on the matter. He walked around spewing information left and right. There was not much she remembered. As a child, she was uninterested in anything that didn’t involve stories of impossible feats and adventures. She did not care why Robert Louis Stevenson wrote Treasure Island, only that he did.
One thing, however, became ingrained in her mind. Her brother chanted it like a mantra. “Sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.” She did not understand it then, yet she still opted to recite it with him in her squeaky little voice, over and over again, until she had it memorized. It wasn’t until she was much older when she realized that, no, Robert Louis Stevenson did not quote it, and no, it was not about flower arrangements.
It was about actions and their consequences; every action has one. Most times, the consequences of our actions are inconsequential; they rarely affect anything else, but other times, one choice leads to another, and another, and so on, until one can’t recognize where anything begins or ends.
Nathan Acosta was a choice—a bad one—and the girl couldn’t have known that by saying yes to a date with him, she was setting off a series of events that would affect the course of her life. After all, no one thinks twice before crossing the street; arriving a few minutes late to class isn’t life or death, and one date doesn’t set your fate in stone.
Not usually, anyway.
“We should go to the party,” Dove proclaimed. She was furious, having introduced Nathan to her friend, only to have it conclude with the girl in tears. “Take his ego down a peg or two.”
The answer was obvious, was it not? A simple, no, thank you. It was better to keep her distance from him; better to ignore Nathan outright rather than to tease him with her presence and risk further embarrassment. But she was furious. God, was she furious!
It wasn’t an emotion well known to her. Even as a little girl, she was never prone to outbursts of temper—but then again, she was never targeted in such a way before.
The girl had a choice to make. No, was the obvious answer. It was what she meant to say. Dove would encourage her to rethink her decision, “You’ll feel better once you give him a piece of your mind. Show him you're not one to mess with,” but would ultimately leave her be. Never again would the topic be brought up.
No, was the only answer. Instead, the girl said, “yes,” and they spent the next couple of hours getting ready.
She shone in the mirror. Looking at her reflection, the girl didn’t recognize the person staring back at her. This person was strong and confident. She stood tall and smiled prettily, turning her head this way, and that, to admire herself better.
This person was not her. She, who stumbled over words and cried herself to sleep. Who believed the kind words of a lying man only because she felt cold at night and wished for a warm body to lay against.
The girl was not the person who stared back at her in her reflection. But she wanted to be.
Her hair was styled daintily, and her features had been enhanced with makeup. Her lashes were longer, her lips were fuller, and her eyes were brighter. The fabric of her dress was silky against her skin and fit perfectly. It showed a bit more chest than she was comfortable with but was longer than she had been expecting. She took a deep breath and tucked some loose hair behind her ears. Here goes nothing.
The girl wobbled out of the washroom on shaky legs, still adjusting to the uncomfortable heels Dove lent her. Dove shrieked when the girl finally revealed herself. “Oh! You look hot!” She was wearing something similar, shorter, with a different material and style, but the same colour.
“You look beautiful, Dove.”
Dove posed dramatically, one arm in the air and over her head, bent at the elbow, the other placed under her chest, emphasizing the size of her breasts. “Hot enough to get some?” she asked, laughing when the girl stuttered. “Come here.” Dove gave her friend a pair of earrings and a small purse to keep her phone in. “Wait, let me take a selfie. Ready?” she asked.
“No,” the girl murmured after the flash went off. She wasn’t talking about the picture. “No, I’m not.” She fixed the straps of her dress and licked her dry lips. “Let’s go.”
The Delta Kappa Epsilon house, located on the edge of campus, was precisely how she imagined a fraternity to look. Loud and congested, it felt as if the entire student population had forced itself into the two-story landmark. Music blared from speakers placed varyingly across the space, making it hard for her to hear her friend.
Dove shouted unintelligible words in her ear.
“What?” the girl screamed back.
“I said! Do you see Nathan anywhere?”
“No, I don’t need to use the washroom!” the girl shook her head. “But we should keep an eye out for Nathan!”
“I thought so too!” Dove misunderstood. “I’m thirsty. Let’s go!”
Dove walked the two of them to the back of the house, near the kitchen. “Drink?” she asked loudly, wincing at her volume. “Shit, were we screaming out there?”
The girl nodded sympathetically. “I think so. The music’s very loud.”
“Right, well…” Dove moved into the kitchen, and the girl followed. “Pick your poison.”
“You think they have champagne?” she asked incredulously.
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Dove pouted.
The girl barely drank and was picky on the few occasions she did. Not like she had many options. She had an extremely low tolerance and hated the taste of beer. So, champagne it was.
“Frats don’t really fuck with bubbles. There’s tequila, though.”
The girl shrugged. A little liquid courage would have helped, but she wasn’t planning on drinking anyway. “No thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” Dove winked, throwing a shot of tequila back, wincing as the liquid burned going down her throat. “Ah, fuck!” she suddenly exclaimed, staring at something behind her friend’s head. “What is he doing here?”
“Who?” the girl clamoured, twisting her neck to look. Upon realizing who had just entered the kitchen of Delta Kappa Epsilon house, the girl let out a meek little screech and fell to her hands and knees behind the kitchen island.
“Why are you hiding?” Dove asked in a panic, dropping down next to her friend.
“Why am I—Why are you hiding?!” the girl stage whispered.
“Because I promised I wouldn’t do anything stupid, and I’m doing something stupid,” Dove whispered back.
“You promised Nathan you wouldn’t do anything stupid?” the girl questioned incredulously.
“Nathan? No, I’m talking about Peter. Wait!—”
“Peter’s here?—” “Nathan’s here?—” the girls spoke over each other.
“Dove,” the girl said in a hushed tone, “I think we should leave. This was a bad idea.”
What was she thinking? She was going to show up to Nathan’s party and do what? She didn’t have the guts to confront him about his deception and was sure he wouldn't come clean by himself.
”What? No!” Dove exclaimed. “First of all, all three of us promised we wouldn’t go to the party, so if Peter’s here, he broke his promise and can’t be mad at us for breaking ours. Secondly, Nathan is a little bitch for lying to you about his ex, and he deserves the embarrassment I’m going to cause him soon.” Dove extended her hand toward the girl. “So, what do you say? We either do this together or not at all!”
“I don't…” she trailed off when she heard footsteps next to their hiding place, and she peeked her head past the island to get a quick look.
“Okay,” the girl squeaked hastily and shook Dove’s hand when she saw Peter enter the kitchen to grab a drink.
Ignoring her friend’s warning, Dove stood up from behind the island, pulling her friend with her. “Great! All we need now is a…” Dove stood startled for only a few seconds before launching herself into her boyfriend's arms. “Peter! I w-was just looking for you.”
Peter voiced his surprise with a stutter and was just about to confront the two girls when Dove grabbed him by his face and pulled him in for a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up.
Peter was fiercely protective of those he cared about and would not listen to reason if he thought he was in the right. As it was, Dove and she had lied to Peter about their plans for the night, and she could not face him with a guilty conscience.
Peter broke free from Dove’s lips, sucking in heaps of much-needed air. “What are—”
And that was all he managed to say before Dove muttered a breathy, “shut up,” and pulled him back in.
Her right arm left his body to wave wildly behind her, signalling her friend to run. The girl listened obediently and retreated quietly to the main room, where music was blasting and bodies were grinding suggestively on what looked to be a makeshift dance floor.
Like a deer in headlights, she froze, wondering what to do next. This was new territory for her—a house party. From what she knew, it involved a lot of drinking and making out, neither of which the girl was interested in. Should she dance? No, she decided, she would stick out like a sore thumb.
Slowly, she created a plan in her mind. Step one: Find Nathan (it was what she was here for in the first place). Step two… What was step two? Approach him? Talk to him? What was she supposed to do?
Dove had planned everything already; the girl was just tagging along. She prepared some great scheme last night to make Nathan cry in front of all his buddies. Something that involved one of the girls from the debate club, two pies—one apple, one blueberry—swimming goggles, and some other wildly random object the girl couldn’t quite remember.
Someone bumped into her, pushing her onto the dance floor, making her stumble over her feet. Stupid heels. She held onto a random girl to regain her balance, some preppy cheerleader type with blue lashes and bleached brows.
“Watch it!”
The girl was pushed this way and that, unable to keep up with the fast tempo of whatever new hit was currently playing.
Hands grabbed her from all sides, which she tried to evade, though, eventually, one of them landed. They began to drag her away from the dance floor and toward the front door. She dug her heels into the tiled floor and whipped her head around, trying to catch a glimpse of the person holding her captive.
“Hey!” a voice shouted, garnering the attention of everyone in her immediate vicinity. The hand around her waist dropped, making her think she had imagined it. “Kitty!”
Nathan Acosta pushed through the now small crowd—small, because they all parted for him like the Red Sea—and stopped in front of the girl.
“You came!” he exclaimed with relief. “Let’s go somewhere quiet?”
She would’ve denied him if it weren’t for their surroundings. People were staring, whispering, wondering what the captain of the hockey team was doing talking to a girl like her. She, too, had wondered the same but chose to ignore the answer, that, no, he would not be talking to a girl like her. Now, look where that got her.
The girl nodded reluctantly, not wanting to be alone with Nathan but not wanting to be surrounded by a crowd either. Nathan guided her toward the stairs and took her to a large room. Hockey memorabilia decorated the white walls and the dresser, but the space was otherwise empty, save for a double bed pushed to one corner. She paused at the door, but Nathan encouraged her inside. “I just wanna talk.”
The girl kept her eyes trained on the ground as she sat down on the soft comforter. “What did you wanna talk about?” she was going to ask, but Nathan beat her to it.
“I have a confession to make,” he blurted, interrupting the girl’s intense staring match with the black carpet.
“What?”
He looked nervous. He was biting his lip and tapping his foot on the ground, almost to the point of annoyance. “I lied to you about something. Something I shouldn’t have lied about, and now I regret it.”
Her heart thrummed in her ears. “What did you lie about?”
Nathan shook his head and breathed out in exasperation. “Before I tell you, you have to know that it was because you scared me.”
The girl blinked slowly. She scared Nathan? That couldn’t be right.
“You scared me to death, Kitty. I mean, you’re so different from any of the girls I’ve been with before that nothing I normally do seemed to work with you. I brag about a game I won or a scout I impressed? They eat it all up. I shower them with compliments? They melt right at the spot. But you?…”
Nathan ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. “Nothing I did impressed you. So I panicked.”
“But you never panic!” the girl exclaimed, overcome by the admission.
“I know. You made me panic, Kitty.” And he gazed at her with such intensity that she had to avert her eyes. “I wasn’t cheated on. And it was shitty of me to say that I was. Marilyn was—well, she wasn’t perfect, but she was good to me and didn’t deserve to have her name slandered.”
The girl listened in awe. Just earlier, she figured Nathan would never admit to his deception, but here he was, proving her wrong. It was an incredibly selfless and brave thing to do.
“I, uh, talked to her after our date. She’s in California on a volleyball scholarship and dating some hotshot lawyer.” He chuckled, and the girl couldn’t help but match him.
Nathan smiled. “Made you laugh.”
She burned under his stare. It was concerning, the effect he had on her. He wasn’t anywhere close! Perched on a small chair across the room, but still able to leave her breathless.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For telling me the truth.”
“No. Thank you,” Nathan insisted, “for giving an asshole like me a few minutes of your precious time.”
A pang of sudden guilt wracked the girl’s frame. Nathan was so sincerely apologizing and being grateful for her presence… yet she had arrived with ill intentions. She came to Delta Kappa Epsilon house with the objective of revenge, only to find out revenge wasn’t needed.
“Can I grab you a drink?”
She said yes because it was the least she could do. “You wouldn’t have champagne by any chance, would you?” she tried again.
Nathan grinned. “Champagne? Nah, but I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Her heart fluttered at the promise of a next time.
“How about a beer?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t care for it. It makes me sick. How about a water instead? I have a low tolerance anyways.”
Nathan seemed to contemplate her words for a moment, nodding. “Do you trust me?”
Trust. It didn’t come easily to her, but something about Nathan put her at ease. “I trust you.”
He left with a smile and the promise of only taking a couple of minutes, leaving the girl in comfortable silence. The heavy bass from the music playing downstairs could still be heard faintly, though not enough to disturb her peace. She decided to use the opportunity to familiarize herself with her surroundings.
Posters of famous hockey players were displayed across the wall—no one that she was familiar with—labelled in big, dark, block letters.
WAYNE GRETZKY — CENTERMAN
BOBBY ORR — DEFENSEMAN
JOHNNY GAUDREAU — LEFT WING
SIDNEY CROSBY — CENTERMAN
Smaller posters took up space along the far wall, helping add a splash of colour to the otherwise bland room. The girl walked along the dresser, trailing a finger over the various awards and medals. One thing was for sure, Nathan was determined to gain success in his field, and that was something she greatly admired.
A slight commotion out in the hall caused her to suspend her exploration. The door opened, and Nathan walked in with two drinks in his hands, clearly upset over something.
“Is everything all right?” The girl self-consciously wrapped her arms around her chest—unknowingly putting her cleavage on display.
Nathan made a show of looking her over. Starting from her heel-clad feet to her prettily made hair—stopping for longer than was appropriate on her chest, though she did not notice. His frown seemed to fade as he took her in.
She felt herself burning under his gaze. Felt her heart beating out of her chest. Her palms were sweaty, and her mouth was dry. It was everything she had read about and nothing she had ever experienced. What was she feeling?
“Nathan?” she croaked, effectively breaking him out of his stupor.
Nathan shook his head but kept a short smile on his face. “Yeah, it was just the guys being assholes.”
“What were they saying?”
Nathan’s smile turned into a full grin, and he closed the distance between them. “They wanted a look at the pretty girl in my room.”
Oh. Oh.
Nathan Acosta thought she was pretty. The girl was sure he had paid her a similar compliment before, but it hadn’t meant anything then. Now? Now it meant everything.
Nathan saved the girl from the trouble of having to reply by handing over her drink. Her eyes widened in surprise after her first sip. “It’s—”
“Really good?” Nathan supplied with a wink.
The girl nodded enthusiastically. “What is it?”
“My version of a Piña Colada.”
She frowned, taking another sip. “I thought Piña Coladas were white. Why is it blue?”
Nathan scratched the back of his neck. “I had some Kool-Aid lying around.”
“Really?” she exclaimed. “I can’t even taste it.”
“I didn’t put in enough, I guess,” Nathan shrugged, frowning slightly.
The girl immediately felt guilty. “It’s still really good. I can’t remember the last time I had Kool-Aid, so I probably forgot what it tastes like.” Then, to show Nathan how much she liked it, she finished the rest of the drink in a single breath.
“Woah,” Nathan chuckled nervously, helping her sit on his bed. “I put a lot of booze in it. You gotta slow down.”
“Sorry,” she muttered sheepishly, “I’m just really thirsty.”
He sat beside her. “Right, yeah. It’s all good.” 
Nathan’s hand settled against the girl’s thigh, scorching the exposed skin. He was so close she could see each individual lash of his. He leaned in.
“Are you religious?” she blurted, leaning away to look at him.
“Huh?”
“It’s just,” she started, rivalling Dove in terms of speed, “everyone automatically assumes I’m religious or something when they find out I’m still… And it’s not that I’m religious, and it’s not that I'm not religious—because I think I’m somewhere in the middle of the faith spectrum—but it’s actually sort of a personal choice combined with a lack of opportunity? Now, I feel like I have an opportunity, so I can’t use that excuse anymore, but there’s still this nagging—”
“Kitty!” cried Nathan, after several failed attempts at a more civilized interruption, “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m waiting for the right person,” she breathed out, “at the right time.” A pause. “And not for a while.”
Nathan stared at her. Said nothing.
“Not for any crazy religious reason,” she rushed to add. “Just as a personal… preference.”
God, her mouth was dry, and she was sweating everywhere. That was why she didn’t speak, why she stayed at home and left the social interactions to the experienced.
“That’s alright.”
It’s… alright? That couldn’t possibly be what he meant.
The girl blinked. “I—I don’t understand.”
Nathan grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Hey! You’re a beautiful girl, but there’s no hurry. We have all the time in the world.”
There was so much she wanted to say to him at the moment, so much she wanted to ask. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her tongue.
“Are you going to drink that?” the girl pointed to Nathan’s forgotten Piña Colada, snatching it from the night table as soon as he shook his head disapprovingly.
“Hey, hey, easy there,” Nathan soothed the girl as she attempted to down the entire glass. He ran a hand over her hair, and she felt too drained to stop him.
“S-sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“That’s okay. Let me help you relax.” Nathan moved his comforter back, motioning for the girl to lie down.
“Can I?” she questioned, already lowering herself against his soft sheets. Her head was pounding, and the room was starting to swim. Maybe she should have listened to Nathan and sipped her drink slowly.
The girl closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the mattress until she felt stuck. “I’ve been getting tired a lot lately,” she sleepily mumbled.
“Must be the stress.” Nathan’s voice seemed far away. Had he moved back to the chair? “You seem like the type.”
The sound of the door opening and closing vaguely permeated past her drowsiness, but she paid no attention. “N—no it’s… it’s…” Something was wrong. She didn’t know why or how, but her spine tingled, warning her of immediate danger.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She tried opening her eyes, but they were glued shut. She found herself stuck in limbo, unable to do anything but think, and even that was becoming a challenge.
Something cold landed on her neck, travelling down her collarbone, up her jaw. The sensation stung her skin, but she could do nothing except groan in response.
“Easy. Just like that.”
The cold trailed down her torso and along her leg.
“You’re a lightweight. I think I gave you a little too much.”
Who gave her what? What was happening?
“God! Baby! You’re a gorgeous little thing! All the stories are true, aren’t they? I can’t believe you’ll be mine soon.”
A scuffle interrupted the gruff voice, and suddenly the cold was gone, replaced, instead, with a familiar warmth. It enveloped the girl’s face and encouraged her to open her eyes.
“Just like that, Kitty. Wake up, sweetheart.”
Slowly but surely, the heaviness left her eyes, and she fluttered awake, only to be met by Dove. Her blonde hair fanned across her head as she bent over, fussing over the girl.
“Hey! Hi! You had us all really worried,” she said. “Peter wanted to call the cops, but I knew you were safe. Best friend’s intuition, right?” Dove pulled at something around the girl’s thighs, fixing her dress with shaky hands.
Still sleepy and not fully awake, the girl did not notice the tears lining her friend’s eyes.
“What happened?” she croaked.
“We looked everywhere for you! Peter was convinced you got kidnapped or something. We didn’t think you’d be here of all places!”
The girl slowly took in her surroundings and realized she had fallen asleep on Nathan’s bed.
“Where’s Nathan?” she asked.
A shadow fell over Dove’s face, one vastly unfamiliar. “In hell!” she growled.
The girl shook her head. “I talked to him. It was all a huge misunderstanding.”
“No! That bastard, he—”
A commotion started in the hall, one that made both girls pause.
“Shit!” Dove suddenly exclaimed, running toward the noise. She threw open the door and launched herself into the middle of a fight.
Still woozy, the girl took her time to leave the comfort of the bed, leaning against the wall for support waddling across the space on shaky legs, much like a baby deer walking for the first time.
Most of her fatigue left her when she took in the scene in the hall. Nathan and Peter were engaged in a rumble, rolling around the floor in a mess of fists. Blood dripped from various cuts around Nathan’s face and soaked through Peter’s white shirt.
“Stop it!” Dove screamed. “Leave him alone, Peter!”
“He fucking deserves it!” Peter bellowed, landing a harsh punch against Nathan’s jaw. “You son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!”
The girl stood there dumbfounded, unable to do much except stare at the scene as a sickening wave of nausea took over her shaking body. She had never seen Peter like this. He was prone to his hysterics now and then, but they usually ended with vulgar profanities and an ostentatious show of muscles—harmless, really. This… this was scary. This was unknown.
People cheered around her, encouraging the mindless violence. No one stepped forward to help, save for Dove, who was failing to get through to Peter. Phones were out, recording the fight in HD, making the girl feel even sicker.
Peter grabbed Nathan by the collar and shoved him against the wall, placing an arm over his throat.
“You’ll kill him!” Dove shrieked. “Peter, stop!”
The room started to spin again, so the girl leaned her entire weight against the wall. The smell of blood invaded her senses, and she had to fight the urge to empty the contents of her stomach right in the hall.
Dove finally found an opening and launched herself between the two boys, stopping Peter from landing what would have been a deadly punch.
He hesitated, arm pulled back. “Move outta the way, Dove.” His voice was eerily calm despite the rage pulsing through his body. “This fucker deserves to die at my hands.”
With tears brimming her eyes, Dove shook her head. “No, I’m not gonna let you—”
The girl ran to Nathan’s bathroom, slamming the door open and hunching over the toilet seat. She sobbed between gags, overwhelmed by the events of the day.
“Kitty?” Present worry forgotten, Dove rushed after her friend, with Peter following close behind.
Amongst the chaos in the hall, a figure watched the scene in front of him, hands clenched in frustration. He had been so close.
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If anyone had told the girl earlier how her night would’ve gone, she wouldn’t have believed them. She might’ve even laughed. The girl had prepared for situations like these by ensuring she would never land in them in the first place. She kept her circle small, never hanging out with the wrong crowd. She didn’t do recreational drugs and even stayed away from potent drinks. It wouldn’t do her good to get loose-lipped and share her secrets with strangers.
Where did it all go wrong, she wondered? When did she lose control? Was it when she went out with Nathan? When she let herself harbour a crush on him? Or perhaps the mistake lay far deeper, buried amongst her past when she ran away from home.
Stop, she chastised herself. Nonsense is what she was thinking. No one knew where she was or what had become of her. And a good thing too, because what would her family say if they saw her now? What would her brother?
The girl threw her head back and finished the last of her drink. By running away all those years ago, did she somehow trigger a series of events that led to her current predicament?
She was sitting on the stairs with tears streaming down her face and an empty wine bottle dangling from her hand. She knew it was a bad idea to drink, but the girl felt floaty and sad, reliving the night between soft sniffles and silent sobs.
She finished emptying the contents of her stomach in the toilet when Dove pushed her sweaty hair back and led her to the bed.
“What’s happening to me?” she whimpered.
“What do you remember?” Peter retorted.
She didn’t remember much, but her friends filled in the blanks.
“The hockey team had a stupid bet going.” Tears gathered in Dove’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kitty.”
She had been confused, not understanding the implication.
“Someone bet Nathan two hundred dollars he couldn’t get you in bed,” said Peter. “Did he touch you?”
Her head spun.
“What do you remember?”
“No! No, I don’t think so. Maybe? I’m not sure.” Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, her brain fuzzy.
“I’m so sorry, Kitty.”
She whimpered, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Nathan wanted to apologize to me. Just apologize.”
“Oh, Kitty.”
“And I forgave him.”
The room flashed red and blue. Peter cursed, and Dove began to panic.
“It’s going to be okay,” Peter told the girls as two men in uniform escorted him out of the house. “Everything will be okay.”
Suddenly everything became too much, and she needed to be alone. “Go, Dove. He needs you.”
“So do you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
The girl collapsed to her knees when her friend finally left. She pulled at her hair, wracking her brain for something, anything. But she couldn’t remember.
It all made sense now, why Nathan had noticed her, why he was pursuing her. And why he put in the effort to apologize to her. The taste of his attempt was still bitter on her tongue, unable to be washed down by the wine.
Her eyes drifted over the crowd below and promptly landed on one of the last people she wanted to see… only to find him looking right at her, a glare etched on his face.
She couldn’t believe she ever thought him handsome, that she almost kissed him. Her Papa was right. And she now understood why he never let her date when she was younger. Boys were only trouble.
“He told his buddies you were easy. That, he might as well take the money now because you were a done deal.”
The girl stood as fast as a whip.
“They wanted a look at the pretty girl in my room.”
The empty wine bottle dropped from her hands with a clatter.
“He said you would be his first virgin. And he couldn’t wait.”
Her legs felt like jelly, and she leaned against the railing for support. Shame burned deep in her gut, rising in temperature, turning into fear and disgust.
She somehow managed to make her way down the stairs without falling. Out, she needed out. Out of that stuffy house, her stuffy clothes and her stuffy makeup.
The girl pushed past the packed crowd, forcing her way through, ignoring the grunts of protest and curses thrown her way. She apologized instinctively after stepping on someone’s foot with her sharp heel, but did not linger.
When the first gust of fresh air reached her lungs, the girl fell to her knees, fingers weaving through the cool, dewy grass. And when the world finally stopped spinning, she surveyed her surroundings, blinking slowly. A few stragglers lingered underneath an old pine, smoking, ignoring her for the time being. 
She got up on shaky feet, standing still for a moment to let the dizziness pass. She turned the corner, walking around the house and towards the backyard, where she hoped to make an inconspicuous escape. With her vision still blurry due to her tears and inebriated state, the girl did not see the overgrown root sticking out from under the house.
The fall happened so suddenly that she didn’t even scream, only flinched as she waited to meet the cold ground. She was thoroughly surprised, however, when she found herself wrapped in warm arms instead.
“Where you goin’ in such a hurry?”
“Sorry,” she gasped, “I'm so sorry.”
The warm arms in question belonged to a man with beautiful eyes and a dazzling smile. His dark hair was cut short on the sides, and day-old stubble decorated his sharp jawline. He was beautiful. The girl was, at least, able to make out that much despite her intoxication.
The man’s hold on her did not loosen. In fact, he tightened it almost painfully, trying to keep her upright and off the ground.
“Hey,” he asked softly, dipping his head to look her in the eyes, “you okay, baby?”
He said her name with a tilt of his head, and if she were in the right state of mind and not burning under his gaze, she might have realized that he used her name, her full name that very few people knew. Yet she couldn’t remember seeing him before.
The girl managed a shaky nod. “Fine. I didn’t see the—”
Once again, the use of her full name, this time from somewhere behind her, startled her out of the stranger’s grasp. He let her go, though he was reluctant to.
Voices emerged from the corner, voices that were talking about her.
“That fucking prude! Did you hear what she did?”
The girl stumbled over her feet, and the man reached out to steady her. “Easy.”
“Poor Nathan. How could she wrongfully accuse him of something so horrible?”
She hadn’t. She didn’t even talk to anyone other than Dove and Peter about what happened because she herself was unsure of the details.
“I have to go,” she whispered, “I need to go,” and freed herself from the stranger’s hold. He called out for her, but she ignored him. She ignored the small group gossiping about her, ignored the ache in her feet, and the pit of dread in her stomach.
There were many other ways the night could have ended, none all too pleasant. If Dove hadn’t encouraged her to come to the party. If Peter had found her earlier. If the girl had not gone through the back; if she had not tripped over the overgrown root and fallen into the arms of a handsome stranger.
Yes, there were many other ways the night could have ended, none all too pleasant, indeed. But what’s done was done, and the consequences of her actions were slowly catching up with her, though she did not know it at the moment.
If things were different, Peter would have offered to walk her home. His perceptive gaze might have found something familiar about the stranger. “I know you. Where do I know you from? I know you.”
The girl’s paranoia might have made her realize he was the man she had stepped on earlier. “Weren’t you just inside? I could swear I just saw you inside.” 
And the night could have ended pleasantly.
But alas, the girl was drunk, and Peter was in jail, and out of all the ways the night could have ended, it chose to end none all too pleasant. None all too pleasant, indeed.
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April 25, 2018
It was now confirmed. The girl was a lightweight. She never particularly drank alcohol—not the strong kind anyway—choosing lighter champagnes and fruity cocktails that washed away the bitterness with sticky syrup. Just one glass was enough to make her tipsy and eventually drunk.
Three to four wrong turns later, the girl was nowhere near her dorm. As it happened, trying to find the residential building at one in the morning while drunk was more challenging than expected. She was sensitive. A few sips of coffee kept her up all night; no wonder she couldn’t see three feet in front of her. An entire bottle of wine on an empty stomach would do that to a person.
What was she thinking? It seemed like such a good idea at the time. She was confused and hurting, willing to do anything to numb the pain. In hindsight, a good night’s sleep could have given her a similar effect.
Two officers had escorted Peter out of the house, which meant he was at the station on the far side of campus. The girl sent Dove a text of jumbled-up words that barely made sense, telling her she was going home.
Hopefully.
Eventually… If she could figure out where she was.
It started slowly, a tingle in her spine, crawling up her shoulders and towards her neck. The feeling of someone watching her. Eyes, on her back, causing goosebumps to form along her arms. She turned around and did something she told herself she would never do.
It was the start of every horror movie. The kind she was forced to watch through the tiny space between clasped fingers, exclaiming, “stupid. So stupid. Why would—Oh my God! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I can’t watch this! Why isn't she running?! That’s so stupid! I would never do that, I would run.”
“Hello,” she called out. “Is anyone there?”
No response, so she tried again but was met with silence. You’re drunk, she chastised herself, imagining things. Still, the pit in her stomach wouldn’t leave. She kept her gaze on the trees lining the pathway, scared that something would jump out at her if she looked away.
Suddenly, her heel stumbled on the uneven ground, causing her to twist awkwardly and fall backwards on soft sand. Somehow she had ended up on the beach. Huh.
“Well,” she mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, “I could use a shower.”
The girl discarded her phone and heels near her feet, and staggered towards the water, fingers inching her short dress up with every step. The soft material also found a home in the sand, leaving her in her undergarments. A basic, light grey cotton piece.
The moon was out, the tide was high, and the girl didn’t hesitate to throw herself at an incoming wave, giggling the entire way down. Bad ideas seemed to be a theme for the night.
The icy water hit her like a slap to the face, sobering her up momentarily. She broke the surface with a gasp and crawled towards the shore, trying to outrun the wave pulling her back in.
What was she thinking?
There was no time to ponder the question as she lay there on the damp sand.; breathing unevenly, coughing up slight remnants of salty, alkaline water, and recovering from her near death. Only she could be so foolish.
The starry sky looked down at her, mocking her and laughing at her pathetic display. Her breathing slowly evened. Nerves slowly dissipated. The haze of alcohol began to return to her, and unfortunate timing as well because rough hands suddenly grabbed her, hoisting her up in the air.
The girl screamed only once, a short and pathetic yelp, before a piece of cloth was placed over her mouth, forcing her to inhale sweet-tasting citrus. She kicked her feet and thrashed her arms, but the person holding her was too strong. She dug her nails into calloused hands, and to no avail, for minutes later, the last of her fight left her body, rendering her limp and at her attacker’s mercy.
The world spun, and she saw black.
Yes… if only the night had ended differently indeed.
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The shadowed figure watched from a distance, clenching his fist in frustration. He had been so close to the girl. Close enough to smell the trace of flowers on her skin, the wine on her breath. She was so soft under him, so pliant. He couldn’t help but want another taste.
He huffed and puffed, trying his best to not reveal himself in his anger. It was too late now, and all he could do was stare as her limp body was covered with a towel and slung over the shoulder of a hooded man. The man said something to his friend, who nodded and picked up the girl’s discarded clothes.
The shadow could do nothing but watch as his inamorata was taken for him. “Just for now,” he consoled himself. After all, the girl was promised to him, wasn’t she?
He took a step back, preparing to leave, when his eye caught on a shiny object partially hidden under the sand. He picked up the device with nimble fingers and inspected it. Notifications popped up on the screen, messages from the roommate, various reminders and emails.
He smiled as a plan formed in his mind, and retreated back to where he came from, becoming one with the darkness. That day she would become his seemed a lot closer than before.
“Soon.”
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Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi
Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist
Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 💜💜
@sebastianstansqueen @nefri-black @broco8 @writing-for-marvel @speedysimp @thegirlnextdoorssister @lostyx @bbgem329 @pineprincess @vollzeitliebe @hazzasswiftie @bananapipeddreams @ng4b20 @veroxbarnes @moonlightreader649 @calwitch @marvelatthetwilight @elizamalfoyy @umadirectioner @littlewhiterose @hallecarey1 @sergntbarnes @nothingbettertosay81 @la--figue @chwlogy @i-could-be-a-great-actor @skuraaa  @prettywhenicry4 @candybabysworld @matchat3a @emmabarnes @valkyrie418 @star017 @maebelle-24 @ria132love
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sunflowerswriting · 2 months
Text
because the page that i tried to make on my theme looked stupid and i couldn't find a way around it, i've made this post about my muses and will link it in the pinned post on my page. if anyone is interested in plotting with these muses down below or would like me to throw up a starter with them, just feel free to like this post, im me or comment down below which muse you would like the starter from.
k thx bye.
Regular Verse Muses
julianna nicholson. rosamund pike fc. ceo of big pharma company, cold and calculating but fun. 
frankie valencia. manny jacinto fc. a free spirit who owns a floral shop. the sweetest boy to ever have lived. 
jenna schafer. sarah pidgeon fc. literary genius who obsesses over everyone and everything. 
mateo estrada. oscar isaac fc. has older brother syndrome and is a deep worry-wart. 
jean luc chastain. robert pattinson fc. counterfeit art dealer and thief, also addicted to everything. 
yuliana garza. bruna marquezine fc. tech genius and badass who works for the government as an assassin. also dresses very well. 
bram hendriks. michiel huisman fc. motorcycle gang member, in it for the brotherhood and the aesthetic. 
riley wheating. aubrey plaza fc. chameleon/jack of all trades kind of gal. just a little sad. 
lizzie henderson. margaret qualley fc. indecisive poet who just needs a muse. 
parker ford. jacob elordi fc. only truly loves his cat - even quit smoking for her. is a good person. 
astrid yang. chase sui wonders fc. darling girl whose upbringing in the bible-belt south has put a damper on her mood. 
mollie parker. lily gladstone fc. note: gifless muse. mafia overlord who has worked her way to the top. very dangerous, very protective. 
zara harris. olivia cooke fc. odd little dove whose a mortician. also obsessed with a lot of things. 
jupiter rogers. paul mescal fc. best seller of a fantasy series, awkward but a good egg. 
elizabeth carlisle. sarah snook fc. hot shot lawyer whose having an affair. 
sarah carpenter. willa fitzgerald fc. fragile, mistrusting of almost everyone. just trying to get by. 
anna wright. jaz sinclair fc. adventurous girly pop whose traveling the world in her van. 
dalilah crane. kate siegel fc. cold, sarcastic. does she even have a heart? 
dakota walters. sophie thatcher fc. college theater student whose just a little dramatic. 
mindy sanchez. jenna ortega fc. hates her overbearing parents and siblings for being overbearing. rebel without a cause. 
william archibald. leo woodall fc. modern day royal. tragic backstory but heart of gold. 
clayton chen. derek luh fc. singer in a band, coolest guy on campus. 
Supernatural Verse Muses and/or Period Muses
spencer zhang. jessie mei li fc. wix. a mess of a magical being just trying to get by. 
lydia sweeney. alycia debnam-carey fc. supernatural hunter whose lost her entire family and is hoping to get revenge. 
savtaj singh. raymond ablack fc. werewolf who channels his aggression at the gym he owns. heart of gold. 
elias miller. mason gooding fc. werewolf with a bad temper but a good heart. quite literally cursed. 
star kilgore. quintessa swindell fc. earth fae in charge of groundskeeping at a cemetery. 
aamani deepesh. simone ashley fc. period muse exclusive. just a lady trying to get by. 
vivian astley. phoebe dynevor fc. period muse exclusive. girly and adventurous, not a match made in heaven.
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babyleostuff · 6 months
Note
the anime issue is being brought up now because someone was trying to call out another idol for watching it (this case was also a little old). Now every idol who’s ever mentioned it is being dragged into the conversation. The original call-out might have just been a random shot by the type of people always out to cancel idols. This one just happened to gain traction now
Made in Abyss was extremely popular and well-acclaimed for its plot, characters, and world-building when it was released. I’m not surprised multiple idols have seen and mentioned it. The story is a gory horror fantasy, that does edgy things to be shocking and sensational. It’s a medium where you’re often ignoring distasteful or immature jokes, caricature, tropes, etc as embellishments to an otherwise interesting story. You might become desensitized and overlook things you would be more alarmed by if you thought of it in a real world context.
I will say that the manga is by far the worst offender, the anime is cleaned up a little, and the Korean adaptation might be sanitized even more. I understand people’s complaints because the disturbing themes still aren’t exactly hidden, but I don’t know if I expect a casual watcher to be watching with a critical mindset. Sometimes someone’s just watching a popular anime without thinking that deeply about it.
The major complaints were the youth of the main characters and gratuitous nudity, body fluids and functions, torture, gore, etc. Maybe it’s jarring and horrifying to make you feel uncomfortable on purpose. But it’s frequent, often unnecessary for the plot, and a lot of it’s presented in sexualized depictions even if it’s completely not sexual within the story itself. A lot of people also question the author’s…interest and love of children.
So we’re battling a few moral dilemmas when engaging with this story. Separation of the artist from the art. Does the media one consumes reflect their values? Expectation of idols to be morally superior. And then some of the outrage sounds like rhetoric used leading up to literary (and fanfiction) purges, and you get to the slippery slope of censorship and banned writing.
I’m trying to present a little of both sides. Yes I hope people are able to look at stories like this and be critical of the pedophilic framing. I don’t want to normalize or imply support for the author, inclusion of these story tropes, or anyone interested in them in that way by promoting such works. But also people will write disturbing stuff and it’s up to you to police your intake.
Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, The Office, Friends, Brooklyn 99, Disney princess movies, Ghibli, Hunter x Hunter, SpongeBob - many popular stories and franchises contain problematic elements under scrutiny. For many issues, people don’t assume reading or watching it means you engage or support it (think stories involving mafia or gang violence, domestic violence, war, cannibalism, murder, even incest). Topics like sexual orientation, gender, and sexualizing minors seem to be the ones that frequently spark the most heated responses and threats of censorship.
That’s my long spiel on this topic. I don’t want to dismiss the concerns, because I do hope people are critical of the media they consume and recommend. Sometimes, that’s being able to parse through the good and the bad of a story and be aware of it. There aren’t completely unproblematic and unbiased stories just like there aren’t perfect artists, writers, and idols.
I’m not sure this will be directly addressed by any idols. Others have liked controversial stories, animes, characters, and people before and I think they usually just let it pass quietly. I imagine if they engaged with it as just a harmless piece of entertainment- they’re not going to think much more of it. Maybe idols will know not to mention it in the future
oh my, you’re so well spoken 👁️👄👁️
thank you so much though, this truly makes more sense to me now
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freedomfireflies · 11 months
Text
Theirs*
Summary: The fourth part to Mine*
Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has returned home after being away.
The first thing on his agenda?
Your punishment.
Word Count: 6.3k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*
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“Don’t look at me like that.”
Swallowing a huff, you straighten up from where you’re knelt on the bed. Your innocent doe-like eyes silently pleading with Harry to simply give in.
However, he merely crosses his arms and leans his tall body against the doorframe to the bedroom. “I know you’re getting ready to say something bratty, and I’m gonna tell you right now…don’t.”
You frown. “Har—”
“No.” His tone is cool but firm. His expression is unreadable. And despite the way you’ve attempted to present yourself to him, he remains unfazed. 
He doesn’t allow himself to drink in your submissive stance. Or the revealing lingerie you’ve worn just to tease him. Or even the way you've kept your head bowed since the moment he walked in, just to tip the scales in your favor.
In fact, when he first came home and found you here, he’d simply cleared his throat and announced he was back.
And that he was ready for that talk.
You try again. “Har, I just—”
“What did I just say?” he reminds you, brow cocking upward. Your third warning. “I want you silent. You are not to speak until I allow you to do so. Is that understood?”
You push your lips into a wounded pout and nod once.
Pleased with your reaction, he rewards you with the softest of smiles. “S’a good girl. It’s my turn to talk right now. And your turn to listen. And I want you to listen very closely. Okay?”
Another nod.
He straightens up and takes a beat. He allows you to wonder. Allows you to anticipate what he might say.
Anticipate how much trouble you’re in.
“Do you understand why I ask you to do certain things?” he begins. “Do you understand…why I expect your obedience?”
You blink up at him, forcing a captivated expression so he knows you’re listening.
“Because there are only a few things in the world I cannot control,” he continues. “But you…I will always control you."
Your cheeks warm.
“I control your body,” he murmurs, pushing off the wall to step closer. “I control your pleasure…and I control your safety. I will always…control your safety.”
He reaches the edge of the mattress and takes your chin between his fingers. With a firm squeeze, he looks down, and your heart races inside your chest at his touch.
You haven’t felt it in days.
And it sets your entire body alight.
“I will always protect you, sweet girl,” he says, and despite the dominant edge, his vulnerability manages to slip through. “I will always take care of you. You…are my number one priority. Whether I’m here or there. And I need you to know that.”
His thumb brushes down your bottom lip, and he plays with it as he gazes at you. In a way so loving, and so devoted…you feel yourself clench.
“I expect your obedience because it’s the only way I can know I’m keeping you safe,” he whispers. “That I’m keeping you cared for. That you’re okay even if I’m not here. So when you go against my direct instructions…it scares me. And do you want to scare me, mama?”
Your head shakes quickly as a whimper gets caught in your throat.
“No. I didn’t think so,” he just about coos, smiling softly. “So you understand why I have to punish you now?”
Your lashes flutter like butterfly wings and you nod, practically reeling as your thighs squeeze a bit tighter together.
“Good,” he hums proudly, hand dropping from your face. You just about pout. “And you’ll take it, won’t you? Take it like the good girl I know you are. Until you learn…not to do it again.”
You nod again, fingers curling into your palm as you resist the urge to reach for him. You understand why he’s doing this. And you appreciate it more than that. This is one of your favorite scenes with him and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.
But…you also wish you could hug him. At least greet him properly and welcome him back before jumping into everything else. Kiss him tenderly and tell him how much you missed him. How happy you are that he’s safe.
That he’s come home.
You imagine this is why he’s refusing to let you do just that. He has to know how much you want it and is instead using this cold, distant demeanor to aid in your punishment.
It’s rather smart.
Pleased with your response, he smirks. “I know you will. Gonna be so good for both of us, aren’t you?”
Both.
Your eyes widen while the flip in your stomach turns into a full-blown circus as you look up at him.
However, he merely glances over his shoulder toward the hallway. “Grab her.”
You don’t have the chance to fully process his instruction before Asher is slipping out of the shadows and making his way into the room.
You thought he’d left after Harry got home but you suppose it makes sense why he didn’t.
And you aren’t about to complain.
You watch him stride toward the bed, and he shoots you that gentle and playful grin of his as he begins to crawl behind you on the mattress.
Your breathing becomes rather sporadic as he loops his hands under your arms and guides you onto his lap. Then, he turns you around until your face is buried in the duvet and your ass is in the air.
And he keeps you there, strewn across his legs, and vulnerable to Harry’s hungry eyes as the room falls silent.
You hear the sound of a belt. The familiar but chilling clanging of metal and brushing of fabric as it’s pulled from Harry’s body.
And you know what happens next.
“You ready, sweetheart?” you hear Asher whisper, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear as he dips down.
You shiver, whining slightly as you nod.
You don’t see him, but you hear Harry slowly walk around the edge of the bed. He’s trying to tease you. Make you squirm. And it works because you’ve never felt so needy and pathetic in your life.
Rough fingers find your skin. Dancing up the backs of your legs and toward the cheap, skimpy thong around your hips.
You’d hoped him seeing you in such suggestive clothing would lighten his mood.
Apparently…you were wrong.
But it seems to still be working in your favor as Harry’s large palm smooths over your ass in an almost tender fashion. It’s warm, and slow, and tantalizing. The simplest of touches and yet…with him? It’s everything.
You relax at the feel, mewling thankfully at the relief you find in his touch.
This makes him chuckle under his breath. “Miss me that much, mama?”
You nod quickly, eyes squeezing shut as he moves for the material disappearing between your cheeks. 
“Wrapped yourself up all nice and pretty for me, hm?” he continues before he finds the ribbon of your corset and begins tugging it playfully. “Are you my welcome home present, sugar?”
You whimper.
“You are,” he decides in a gentle purr. “And you do look so pretty. Doesn’t she?”
“Very,” Asher says, and you feel him slide his hand across your back so he can hook it onto your hip and keep you cemented to his thighs.
You’re almost thankful you can’t see them. Their voices alone are about to ruin you and you know their faces absolutely would.
“Tell me, sweet girl…” Harry calls before his finger wraps around the thong and he guides it away from your body, “…did you think this would work? Think I’d forget about your punishment just because you got all dolled up?”
Yes. “Mm-mm,” you mumble quietly, head shaking as you try to obey his rule about staying silent.
“No?” His grip on the fabric gets tighter as he continues to pull. “Then you wore this for yourself? Or for Asher?”
You resist the temptation grind against Asher’s leg as you exhale shakily.
“Speak,” Harry commands, and you glance to the side.
“Wore it for you,” you admit sheepishly to the two men awaiting your reply. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky…just missed you and wanted to do something to show you that.”
He considers this for a very brief moment. “Are you being honest with me?”
Your lashes flutter and the silence in the room is deafening. “…no.”
You can practically hear them smirk to themselves as Harry hisses, “Didn’t fucking think so.”
With that, he snaps the panties off, forcing you to gasp as you squirm from the sudden force.
God, you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could watch the muscles in his throat constrict from the anger you’re sure he’s trying hard to tame. 
He’s always beautiful, but perhaps he's the most beautiful when he’s outraged. And every feature on his face is twisted into a malicious sneer as he inflicts his displeasure on anyone unlucky enough to witness it.
Maybe this is why you enjoy your punishments so much. Because his pain is always worth it.
The leather of his belt slides down your cheeks before traveling along your leg. He’s warning you. Giving you a moment to prepare. Something that almost seems thoughtful, but you know is only intended to worsen your apprehension.
And it works beautifully.
“What are you gonna do?” he asks as he continues gliding the material across your backside. 
“I’m…I’m gonna count,” you recite in a small voice. “And…apologize.”
“That’s right,” he agrees. “And who…are you going to apologize to?”
Your mouth opens, ready to reply before you think his question all the way through.
“Both of you,” you finally answer, and he hums.
“Good.” He pulls the belt away from you. “I think eleven strikes should suffice. Three…for each day you disobeyed me. Three…for each day you disobeyed him. Four…for the fact that you thought you could get away with it by wearing this…”
He falls silent, and your thighs clench.
“And an extra…” he murmurs, “…because Asher deserves to see how pretty you look when you cry.”
Your eyes just about roll back and before you have the chance to feel thrilled…the belt cracks through the air and lands on your ass.
The sharp contact makes you jolt as you choke on a whine and lurch forward.
And the subtle sting is quick to trickle beneath your skin as he leans back, and you can't help sighing contently.
God, you've missed this.
“One,” you whisper, eyes locking onto the wall across from you. “I’m sorry.”
Another strike.
“Two.” Your fingers curl around the duvet as you steel yourself. “I’m sorry.”
Another strike.
With each additional whip of his belt against your skin, you’re forced into the light of pain and pleasure.
He gives you about fifteen seconds between each one. He wants you to feel it. Wants you to pray for it to be over.
And you do want it to be over. Only because that means he’ll finally be through with your punishment, and he’ll actually touch you. Hold you, kiss you, be with you in the way he hasn’t since he left.
You continue counting down, and as you do, the pain begins to linger. Not just from the spanking, but from the way your clit viciously grazes Asher’s leg whenever you jerk forward. And you try not to squirm, you really do, but the emptiness you feel between your thighs overwhelms you. 
You’re sure Harry can tell. You’re sure Asher can tell. And he attempts to help you by squeezing your hip as you whimper from the forceful contact and apologize for the fifth time.
And then…everything changes.
Harry’s aim lowers and the firm leather meets the place where your thigh and butt connect. It lands there, right across the dip with a loud smack, and your ears start to ring.
You gasp louder than you have before. It’s hard, and it hurts, and the tears instantly pool in your eyes.
Your voice shakes as you say, “Six…I’m…I’m sorry.”
Harry pauses, and you assume he’s assessing your reaction before he does it again. Right in the same spot.
You yelp as your lip quivers, and the water begins to run freely down your cheeks.
God, it hurts. He always makes sure to make it hurt, and you have to appreciate him for it. After all, he promised punishment.
This is it.
“Seven,” you just about sob, your knuckles going white from how hard you’ve begun to grip the blanket. “I’m…I’m…”
You can’t get the word out. Can’t seem to force the syllables from your tongue as Harry tsks disapprovingly.
“Come on, sugar,” he tuts. “You were doing so good. Don’t make Daddy angry now.”
Your head shakes quickly as your eyes squeeze shut. “I’m…I’m sorry.”
He makes another noise, this time of appreciation before you hear the belt cut through the air.
Again lands the strike to the same abused spot, and you cry out as you seize up, writhing over Asher’s lap.
You feel Asher’s hand leave your hip before it’s suddenly ghosting across your face. His fingers quickly slip under your chin, and you sniffle as he guides your head toward him.
You can see the hesitation in his expression as he studies you, his thumb brushing across your soaked cheek as he looks back to Harry.
“Boss…” he calls quietly, almost as if in warning.  
But Harry simply clicks his tongue. “No, she’s fine. She can take it. She’ll take it. Know she will. Gonna be our good girl.”
You attempt to nod, despite Asher’s hold, and when you hear Harry get ready to go again, your features twist into an apprehensive wince.
Asher frowns.
The belt slaps across your skin as you whimper and brace yourself against Asher’s body, almost as if trying to escape.
In turn, he tightens his hold as you cry a bit harder and nuzzle your face into his arm in an attempt to catch your breath.
“Count, mama,” Harry reminds you, and you swallow a pitiful whine as you begin blubbering the number.
“Har,” Asher tries again, interrupting your apology.
“She’s all right. And she’s gonna count. Just like I asked,” Harry replies, and you hear him run the leather through his hand.
Your bottom burns from the harsh whips, and despite how hard you’re trying to obey, your body seems to have other plans.
You’re overstimulated. Emotionally, physically, mentally. The pain from the spanking, the pain from the grinding against your cunt, the pain from knowing Harry’s keeping himself from you.
And you know he loves this. Know he loves to watch you weep for him. Because of him. After all, these are the only tears of yours he permits.
If you cry for any other reason outside of his attempts to pleasure you…all hell breaks loose.
So you allow yourself to cry. You allow yourself to get even further worked up as the tears pour, exactly the way he loves. 
You sniffle once more as you stutter out the apology and curl yourself as close to Asher as you can, completely settling into the submissive roll.
To this, Harry hums before you hear him ready the next crack of his belt.
Your muscles instantly recoil when you hear the way it slices through the air, face scrunching up as you prepare for the contact.
Then, suddenly…something changes in Asher’s touch.
“Harry,” he snaps loudly, in a tone you’re sure you’ve never heard him use before.
The strike never comes.
The room falls silent.
Your soft sobs begin to subside.
You hear something hit the floor, and you wonder for only a moment what it was before a pair of hands are gripping onto your waist and gently turning you around.
You’re pulled from Asher’s lap as Harry scoops you into his arms, one palm coming up to cup your cheek to guide your attention to him.
“Okay, all right,” he murmurs softly. Soothingly. “It’s okay. Do you need to use your safe word?”
You take a minute to find your voice, frowning some as your bottom continues to radiate heat and soreness from the way you’ve been sat on it. 
But Harry doesn’t rush you. He keeps you secure against his body, eyes soft and words comforting.
After a moment, you swipe your fingers through the stains on your face and shake your head. “No. No, I don't need to use it.”
“Are you sure?” Harry’s voice is stern but full of compassion. “Mama, you know I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know,” you whisper, offering a small smile. “You didn’t. I mean…not in a bad way.”
His eyebrows pull together, almost in disbelief. “Are you being honest with me?”
“Yes,” you say truthfully. “I promise. I don’t need to use it. I’m okay. You know I always take it for you.”
It’s his turn to smile, and he does so with a quiet chuckle. “I know, sweet girl. But what did I say? You always come first. And I won’t tolerate you allowing me to hurt you past what we’ve agreed on. I would never forgive myself.”
“I know,” you echo, leaning closer to brush your nose against his. He sighs gratefully as his lashes flutter. “I promise. I don’t need to use it. I’m okay. You’d never hurt me. I promise.”
For a moment, he simply internalizes this vow. Allows you to snuggle into his chest as he wraps himself around you and helps you calm down.
The two of you have only ever struggled with something like this once before.
You had slipped into your subspace after a particularly overstimulating session. Harry was intent on working out some of his frustration with you and you had been more than happy to oblige.
But soon, he lost himself in the punishment. In the way your body bent to his will. And you were too far gone to stop him. Unable to use your safe word despite the fact that you might have needed to. You just wanted to make him happy. So you allowed him to continue and didn't give it a second thought.
Once the activities had ended and you pulled yourself from the submissive state, you told him. Told him what you had almost told him before you floated away.
And it fucking ruined him.
He was guilt-stricken. He’d sunk to his knees and begged for your forgiveness. The first time he'd ever gotten onto his knees for you outside of sex. He kissed your hands, and hips, and stomach as he whispered his remorse into your skin. As he pleaded with you to allow him to make it better.
And you held no ill-thoughts or feelings. It certainly wasn't his fault. He had absolutely no way of knowing and you know he'd never do it on purpose.
But things changed after that. Agreements and understandings were made. Harry knows your limits and rules just as you know his. He keeps a close eye on you. Always. Looking for any signs that you're depleting yourself for his pleasure.
Thankfully, today this is not the case.
Today…this is everything you want.
When you’ve finally managed to relax your muscles, you lean back, and Harry smirks before running his thumb under your eye. 
“My precious girl,” he whispers, and your skin warms. “Told you you’re beautiful when you cry.”
You glance down at your lap as you grin before your attention drifts to the left, where Asher still waits.
His expression is hard and filled with concern. It’s a look you’ve seen before, but only ever in the context of their work.
Today, this is a direct result of what happened only moments ago, and your heart aches when you see how worried he looks.
“You’re okay?” he repeats, and the sound of his voice is rather coarse as he looks between you.
“I’m okay,” you repeat as Harry’s hand drops back down to your hip. “Promise. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
His lips purse. He seems to be struggling to vocalize his unease and you shift in Harry’s lap so you can fully face the man beside you.
“I’ve never seen you get that angry with her before,” he tells his boss, and Harry nods. “Never seen her cry like that before. Felt…felt wrong to see her in that kind of pain and not do something.”
You feel a rush of adoration for your protector as Harry hums his understanding and squeezes your waist.
“I know,” Harry agrees. “I should have warned you earlier. But I’m glad your first instinct is to protect her. Even from me.”
Asher’s eyes fall to his hands.
You frown. “It’s okay,” you murmur again, crawling a bit closer. “This is just…what we do. It’s what we agreed on. We have a safe word and a system in place so I can always communicate with him.”
And while you’d hoped this would help, it seems as though it does absolutely nothing to comfort him as you settle onto your knees in front of his legs.
He keeps his focus down, almost as if punishing himself, so you slip your fingers beneath his jaw to guide his face to yours. Exactly like he had done to you earlier.
When you finally see him, you feel gutted by the weary pull of his expression.  
“Ash,” you murmur, and he chews on the inside of his lip. “I’m okay. I like it when he makes me cry. Like it when he hurts me.”
You imagine he’ll be a little put off by such an admission, and for a moment, he simply blinks at you.
And then…his gaze darkens, and his teeth scrape together. Almost as if restraining himself from thinking about it.
You smirk to yourself. His reaction is quite telling, and you swallow a chuckle as you turn to glance over your shoulder at Harry.
He seems to be thinking the same thing you are, and he grins smugly before nodding his chin at you.
With this permission, you scoot a bit closer to Asher and tighten your hold on his cheeks. 
“I’m okay,” you whisper again, and he releases a deep breath. “More than okay.”
He relaxes in your hold, and you use this as encouragement to move in. Your lips ghost down his neck. Hovering over a prominent vein before they finally make contact, and you feel him stiffen.
You press your mouth to his skin, and you can feel the pounding of his pulse as you linger there. As you let him realize what you’re doing.
Your kisses travel down. Soft and slow and rather innocent. 
“I’m okay,” you repeat quietly between each one. “So okay.”
You’re simultaneously calming him down and working him up. You can feel the way he begins to unwind, subtly leaning into you as you let one hand travel to his chest.
It’s strong. Broad. Firm. Even through his dark t-shirt, you can feel the quick breaths he’s taking. The way he’s beginning to succumb to your intentions.
You smile.
He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t rush you. He lets you explore whatever you’d like as you scratch down his pecs and lick just below his jaw.
It makes him shiver and you feel rather proud of the way you can ease his upset through such a simple touch.
Then, Harry clears his throat, and calls you back, forcing you to break away from the right-hand man.
Asher’s expression is hazy when you finally see it. Lashes fluttering as he swallows a sigh, and you offer a soft grin before turning back to your boyfriend. 
“You like taking care of him, don’t you, mama?” Harry murmurs, hand coming out to smooth up your thigh.
You nod bashfully.
“Mm. I know,” he coos, hooking his fingers under your knees to help guide you back onto your ass. “But we’re not done with your punishment, are we?”
Your head shakes.
“No,” he agrees, glancing behind you toward Asher. “And I don’t think we’ve quite forgiven you yet.”
Asher clears his throat and slips his fingers around your upper arms to tug you down until your back meets the mattress.
Your head is laid between his thighs as Harry crawls down your legs, slowly pulling them apart so he can settle there.
And you know exactly what happens next. Know exactly what Harry expects of you, and there’s a catch in your throat as you glance up toward Asher.
In turn, he looks down at you with his familiar, teasing smile before brushing his knuckles across your cheek. “Say your prayers, sweetheart.”
The muscles in your stomach quiver beneath your corset at the salacious tone of voice just as Harry is lifting your hips and bringing you to his mouth.
You stumble over a moan and your eyes roll back as your nails scratch down the blanket beneath you. He’s wasting no time, instantly nipping and licking at your cunt as if he’s been deprived of it for weeks.
And for the two of you, three days feels about the same.
It’s all a blur from here. You can’t focus on anything else but him. 
Them.
The way your boyfriend groans into your pussy as he licks you clean while his right-hand man keeps you glued to the bed.
And every time you squirm, Harry leans back to smack his hand against your clit, forcing you to cry out as you writhe away.
But Asher is there to make sure you don’t get very far, instantly bringing his hand to your jaw as he tuts, “Uh-uh.”
You’re already so worked up that it only takes a couple more minutes of sucking and teasing for you to reach your first orgasm. 
And it’s everything. Overpowering and complete, despite the fact that what you really want…Harry hasn’t given you yet.
You hope he does. Hope he fucks you into oblivion but something tells you…that’s not in the cards tonight.
Once you manage to blink the stars from your eyes, Harry glances up at you, and you flush when you see the mess on his chin.
“Say it,” he hisses, curling his hands around your hips in warning.
You swallow and work to find your voice. “One…I’m sorry.”
“Good,” he growls before bringing two fingers closer. “Again.”
He slips in without warning, pumping himself through just to shove you back up the precipice of pleasure. 
And it works. It so fucking works. You arch off the bed and struggle in his hold as you whisper his name. 
He curls when he knows you can’t take it anymore. Strokes and thrusts and sucks on your clit until your muscles begin to ache. Until the tears have returned and the pain has slipped in beside the euphoric bliss.
The coil shatters moments later and Harry slaps his hand down your cunt when you come without warning him first.
“Two,” you blubber, throwing your arms over your face to hide. “I’m sorry.”
“Again,” he orders, even though he gives you no choice in the matter before diving back in.
And it hurts.
It hurts exactly the way you both love. You’re raw and sore and so overly sensitive but you revel in it as you cry once more. As you gasp for air and drag your nails down Asher’s thighs to ground yourself.
You hear him chuckle before he takes hold of your wrists and tugs them above your head.
Now, you really have no choice but to take it.
Harry adds a third finger, and the stretch makes you buck up. He responds to this disobedience by pinching your clit until you just about scream from the agonizing sensation. 
But it pushes you into your third and you barely stammer out the number and apology before he’s slipping in a fourth finger and flattening his tongue against you.
And the sounds he makes. The sounds you make for him. The sounds of everything.
But then he spits, and you decide then that you’re never going to disobey him again.
You try to keep your eyes open but it’s so hard. So hard to do anything else but think of the feeling in your belly. Between your thighs. In your head.
It’s only when Asher reaches out to brush his thumb down your lip that you peer up.
“There she is,” he murmurs, and you whimper at the salty taste of his finger. “So sweet when you apologize.”
You’d likely respond if you could but you’re coming for the fourth time before you quite get the chance.
Now, it’s harder to catch your breath. Chest heaving and body trembling as Harry’s incessant teasing begins to slow.
“Four,” you finally sough through gentle sobs and hiccups. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
Harry eases himself out, quickly lifting to his knees so he can crawl up the length of your body and bring his face to yours.
He dips down and kisses you. Slow and gentle. A stark contrast to his previous forcefulness and you instantly melt beneath his mouth. 
God, the way he tastes. His tongue is coated with your arousal and he shares this delicacy without a second thought. He pushes each drop into your mouth before his fingers find your throat, and curl around the delicate base.
His pointed squeeze tells you to swallow, so you do. And you’d swallow everything he ever gave you if that’s what he wanted.
But soon, he stops. He knows you’ve slipped away from him and after he takes his lips from you, he snakes an arm under your back and pulls you up.
His movements are tender. He doesn’t want to startle you or hurt you. He just wants to hold you as you swim through the haze of your submissive headspace.
But keeping his kisses from you feels like the cruelest thing he’s done all day. He must still be upset. You must not have done a good enough job. He must have wanted you to keep going but you didn’t and now he’s sad and hurt.
“M’sorry,” you mumble again, nuzzling your face into his neck the moment you’re sat upright. You can’t look at him. Don’t want to see the disappointment. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry—”
“Shh,” he interrupts in a quiet but authoritative hush. “No more of that. You’re okay. Did so fucking good, mama. I’m so proud of you.”
You whimper as you curl into his chest, already half-asleep from the overexertion.
But he keeps speaking to you, lips pressing into your hair as he hums his approval. “Took your punishment so well for us,” he says. “Knew you could.”
His fingers rub against your hip before he moves to the corset. He pops the buttons free and undoes the ribbon until he can pull it from your body.
Now you can breathe a bit better, and the cool air feels good against the sticky sweat coating your stomach. 
This is the first time you’ve been truly naked in front of both men, but you don’t have the mental awareness to care right now.
Instead, you cling yourself to Harry’s body as he chuckles and runs his palm up and down your bare spine.
When the throbbing in your cunt has begun to subside, you hesitantly peek out from where you’ve hidden yourself in Harry’s collarbone to look between them.
Your eyes are wide and hopeful, lips already trembling as you ask, “…forgive me?”
Asher and Harry exchange a certain look you can’t read before Harry mumbles, “I forgive you, sweet girl.”
You smile brightly with this before looking to the second man.
He’s fighting a chuckle. “I forgive you, too, sweetheart.”
And you’re so thrilled. So happy to have made them happy that you hum contently and squeeze Harry’s hand in yours.
But this tender moment doesn’t last as long as you’d like before Harry is shifting you from his lap and back into Asher’s.
And after passing you off to his right-hand man, he disappears from the bed altogether, leaving you to watch him go with a curious look.
To help ease your confusion, Asher wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you into his chest.
“He’s gonna come back,” he tells you, tucking his chin just over your shoulder. “Gonna hold you till he is, okay?”
You nod quickly and nestle into his embrace.
And Harry does in fact return about a minute later, a washcloth in his hand.
There isn’t really much to clean up, but the warm compress always helps soothe those lingering twinges of pain.
So, he moves onto his stomach as Asher reaches down to pry your thighs apart and make room. 
With an abundance of caution and adoration, Harry brings the towel to your swollen pussy, softly stroking the sensitive region. 
He goes over your thighs, your stomach, your clit. He doesn’t rub or pull, and anytime you grimace, he stops.
But the warm water helps relax you even further until you eventually sigh as you unwind between Asher’s arms.
And Asher smiles against your temple. 
When Harry’s through, he makes a trade. He hands the cloth to Asher while Asher hands you to him.
And once you’re back in Harry’s possession, Asher returns to the bathroom to discard of the towel and grab some lotion.
He then brings it to Harry as Harry gingerly guides you onto your stomach so he can begin. 
The next few minutes are quiet but filled with love.
The soothing lotion is massaged over your backside as the sting from the spanking slowly dissipates. 
You’re happy he’s not dragging you into the shower like he normally does. Not that you don’t enjoy the soft, lazy kisses under the water as he runs a loofa down your body.
But right now…all you really want is to get under the covers and fall asleep on his chest.
You want to welcome him home.
And a part of you is upset by the way you haven’t been able to show him how much you really missed him. Get a taste for yourself. Take him down your throat as he groans and gives you everything.
But you suppose this is part of your punishment. There will be other times for that.
Today…you had some repenting to do.
Once Harry is through, he flips you back around and kisses you. He tells you everything words never could. He paints his infatuation with you across your tongue and you couldn’t be happier.
After laying down beside you and pulling you into his chest, his fingers stroke delicately through your hair. Effectively lulling you into a blissful reverie.
“Want to talk to you about something, mama,” he mumbles quietly as you roll your head back to look at him. “Would that be okay?”
You nod.
“Both of you…actually,” he corrects before glancing toward Asher, who’s leaned against the wall watching. “Figured now might be a good time.”
Asher’s brow raises.
“You know…” Harry begins, returning his attention to you, “…that all we want to do is protect you and keep you safe…yeah?”
You nod again.
“And you know…we’d do anything for you,” he continues, pressing his palm to your cheek as he cups it lovingly. “Do anything to make you happy. Make you feel good. Yeah?”
Your answer is to turn your face and press your lips into his hand as he smiles.
“Good,” he whispers, stealing another curious glance at Asher. “Then I want to know…if you’ll let us do that. If you’ll let us make you feel good. In a way we maybe haven’t before.”
It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, but once the insinuation finds you, your breath hitches.
“Don’t have to answer right away,” he tells you calmly. “I know I’m asking a lot, sugar. And you know I don’t like to share you.”
A quiet moment passes as he leans down to place a kiss to your forehead. 
“But I’ll share you with him,” he whispers. “Because I know he’d take care of you, too. And you’d take care of him, wouldn’t you?”
You nod quickly, heart hammering inside your chest.
“I know,” he smiles. “But you can say no, honey. You can always say no. I just think…you deserve to have all your little holes filled. Deserve to feel so fucking good. In every way you can. And I think that…is worth sharing you for.”
Your nails begin to scratch down his shirt as the image appears like a mural inside of your mind. Already, you can feel yourself clench from the very idea of being filled by them. From the idea of both their hands, and lips, and voices. The idea of getting to touch them, and be with them, and take them.
“And I know how much he wants to,” Harry adds, tossing a rather sadistic smirk across the room at his friend. “He’s told me before that he’d do anything you asked him to. Do fucking anything to feel you.”
Your eyes widen.
“S’that still true?” Harry asks his partner, and you can hear the taunt within the question.
Asher clears his throat quietly and straightens up, seemingly a little hesitant. “…yes.”
Harry chuckles before returning his attention to you. “So, I want you to think about it, okay? No right or wrong answer, sweet girl. Whatever you’re comfortable with, we’ll—”
“Okay.”
He pauses. “Okay?”
You tug your lip between your teeth and nod fervently. “Okay. Yes, I…I want to. I’ll…whatever you want. Do it. I’ll do it.”
He breaks out into a large grin. “Oh, that’s our fucking girl,” he just about growls before surging forward to kiss you.
And you bask under his praise. Under the possessive title you wear proudly.
You love to be his.
And you will always be theirs.
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One more part🥹😭
Next Part:
~ Hers* (Final Part)
Previous Part:
~ Yours* (Pt. 3)
~ Full Mine Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
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hlficlibrary · 9 months
Note
Any fics with mafia / crime boss recs, please?
Hi! Here are a few that fit what you're looking for! I already have a crime fic rec that's been requested in the "Suggestion Box", so that's a longer rec that will eventually be on the blog!
The King of Spades by hazmesentir 
Undercover Metropolitan Police officer DC Louis Tomlinson has worked his way up the ranks of a prominent London crime family without raising suspicion, but when he finds himself pitted against a rising crime boss with a police background and a favoured employee by the name of Harry Styles, everything starts to unravel. Finding himself in the middle of an escalating war between two bosses whose bad blood runs deep into a violent past, Louis has to be even more careful where he steps in case his big secret catches up to him – and if it does, he knows he won't survive it.
Not to mention he's falling for someone he can't have – whose earnestness and honesty is a bright spot in a dark world – he can't sleep because his nightmares haunt him and he's in way over his head, but it's just a game, always just a game, and if Louis plays his cards right he might just make it out alive.
last blues for bloody knuckles by creamcoffeelou / @creamcoffeelou
“Hi, love,” A too-familiar voice greeted him from the other side of the door. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips that he brought between two fingers as his eyes raked over Louis. All Louis could do was stare, wide-eyed at the alpha that he’d left behind so many years ago. “Harry?” His voice felt far away, like it wasn’t him that was speaking. On the other side of the door stood the one man he never thought he’d see again, and maybe the only man he never wanted to see again. A few steps behind him stood Liam and someone else he didn’t recognize, with guns tucked into their front pockets. “I need you to come with me.”
OR
Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.
He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.
A mob au.
Tied Down by HamPalpert
The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. The investigation yields an unexpected yet satisfactory outcome for Liam and Niall. For Harry and Louis, however, things are far more complicated.
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Worst GTA Characters
1. Melvin “Big Smoke” Harris (San Andreas) - Let me get two number 9s, a number 9 large, and well, you know the rest. Oh, some Ballas. Nah, I can’t let this food go bad, let me just stuff my big fat fucking face. Oh by the way, I’m actually allied with the Ballas, and I’ve betrayed my childhood friends. I meant to have Sweet killed, but I ended up accidentally having his mother killed. Smoke is an opportunist, and was always out for himself. Fun fact, when he says “If you can eat your food, while everybody else is losing theirs, and blaming you, you straight,” he actually meant if you can profit while everyone else is losing everything because of you, then you’re okay,” foreshadowing his own betrayal. Almost hurt me to have to kill him in the end, although his mentality is the surest path to hell. Well, that and 15 microdots and an ounce of mescaline. Also, he had no regrets. He saw an opportunity, and took it, no matter who he ended up hurting.
2. Frank Tenpenny (San Andreas) - When it comes to GTA baddies, Tenpenny is one of the worst. He builds a crack empire in order to extort money from, he convinces opportunist Smoke to be the head of said drug empire and ally himself with the Ballas, he orders a hit on Grove OG Sweet after Smoke fails to convince him to get into the drug trade, he murders Internal Affairs officer Ralph Pendlebury for threatening to leak corruption evidence, and he frames the murder on CJ, blackmailing him into cleaning up his mess. Officer Pulaski may be cruel and sadistic, but Tenpenny is much worse. He even has Officer Hernandez killed for snitching on him. Once CJ’s usefulness has come to an end, he orders Pulaski to kill him and Hernandez, resulting in Pulaski’s death. He even manages to avoid jail time, thanks to the would-be witness he orders CJ to kill, causing a city-wide riot. Thankfully, his erratic behavior in the end cost him his life. Fun fact, it’s actually possible that he left Pulaski to deal with CJ cause he knew CJ would end up killing him.
3. The Celebrinator (TBoGT) - Look, buddy, my boss is struggling to maintain two nightclubs, owes money to some dangerous monsters, and is $2 million in the hole for some diamonds that got stolen from him. I got enough problems without your tabloid journalism fake news bullshit! You know what, I’m just gonna throw you out of a helicopter! Oh, I guess I don’t want ANOTHER murder on my conscience, among literally thousands! Guess I’ll save you! Haha, you shit your pants! Guess you’ll never mess with me again!
4. Auntie Poulet (Vice City) - She only appears in three missions as a mission giver. When Tommy initiated a gang war between the Cubans and the Haitians, Tommy does some missions for Umberto Robina, and eventually gets contacted by Auntie Poulet, who drugs Tommy into taking the Haitians side of the war. Then after her mission thread, you’re no longer useful and the Haitians attack you on sight once you step into their turf, following Poulet’s phone call telling you you’re no longer welcome in Haitian territory. Wow, so you use me against my will only to dispose of me in the end?
5. Kent Paul (Vice City) - It’s always funny to watch him try his luck with the ladies, only to fail so spectacularly. This English man keeps his nose in places it shouldn’t be, but that does make him useful if you want to know something involving Vice City’s criminal underworld. And he’s managed two well known Scottish rock bands, Love Fist and Gurning Chimps. But the thing that breaks it with this particular character, is the fact that he can be as petty as Lance when he calls complaining about your lack of respect for him. I hope he too doesn’t sell me out to a rival Mafia family.
6. Brian Jeremy (TLAD) - Ever heard the phrase “Nobody Likes A Kiss-ass?” Clearly Brian hasn’t. He is constant brown-nosing Billy ever since the latter got out of rehab. The Alderney Chapter President of the Lost M.C. is always making the obviously wrong decisions, causing friction between himself and Johnny. And quite frankly, the rest of the chapter doesn’t seem to agree with his methods either, save for Brian. Even Billy finds his kiss-ass annoying, too! When Billy gets arrested, Brian forms a faction that are dumb enough to follow against Johnny, who has taken over as President. I NEVER let him live the mission “Bad Standing.” I make sure he’s halfway to hell.
7. Ray Bulgarin (GTA IV) - So you say your boss is a pain. If he is the head of a smuggling/traffic ring, and he loses his latest consignment in a ship that sinks, and blames you, and tries everything in his power to have you killed, then you have the wrong boss. Granted, in the original GTA IV, he only shows up twice. He makes a more prominent appearance in TBoGT, when he employs Luis, up until he finds out he and Tony were involved in the Diamonds Arc, which Bulgarin claims are his diamonds, then spends the rest of the game trying to have them killed. Word to the wise, stay away from this guy!
8. Zero (San Andreas) - Did you know that you do NOT have to complete his mission thread in order to complete the story mode? BECAUSE I DIDN’T!!! Fun fact, even his voice actor, David Cross, couldn’t stand hearing his voice in the mission “Supply Lines,” so you know this is an interesting entry! Also prior to the casino heist, he boasts to his rival Berkley about the upcoming robbery, which makes the heist more difficult than it needed to be. I laughed my ass off when CJ punches him in the face, knocking him out for his idiotic mistake! That’s for “Supply Lines,” you prick!
9. Beverly Felton (GTA V) - What’s Vinewood without the annoying paparazzi? Beverly is an overweight, obnoxious paparazzo who tasks Franklin with helping him harass various stars around the Vinewood area. When he tasks Franklin to take some photos on his own, Franklin returns and demands his payment, only to be blown off cause they’re shooting a reality show. Oh God, if only I had a rocket lau- OH WAIT I DO! Yeah I kill that obnoxious prick for being, well, an obnoxious prick!
10. Tonya Wiggins (GTA V) - Good ol’ GTA. You get to steal cars, rob stores, get as many cops to kill you as you can, and… tow cars? I’m sorry, TOW cars? Yep, GTA V adds the ability to do yoga, go to therapy, and the mundane task of towing cars. Thanks to a potentially old flame/crackhead Tonya, whose boyfriend works at a towing company. By “works” I mean sitting on his ass and smoking crack. In order to keep his job, I get guilt-tripped by Tonya to do his job for him for nothing. And what’s worse, her first mission is actually required to progress the story, despite being a Strangers and Freaks mission. Good news is her other missions aren’t required, and spoiler alert, they’re literally the exact same thing.
11. Isiah Friedlander (GTA V) - I got some problems. I’m stealing cars, running over pedestrians, killing cops, causing chaos. I need some professional help. By “help,” I mean someone to complain to while he just takes my money, overcharges more for each subsequent session, just checks his watch, and not even listen to me? What, not even my therapist cares about me? What do I pay you for?? Well, you got a nice car, I’ll just steal it. Asshole. Also, do the world a favor. After your last session with him, and he reveals that he has written all your sessions in a book that has been published, kill that prick!
12. Catalina (San Andreas and GTA III) - Do you have a psycho girlfriend? Why is she psycho? Does she go berserk when you rob the countryside with her? Does she force you to have awkward, BDSM sex with her? Does she dump you for some mute with absolutely no personality? Does she shoot you during a robbery and leave you for dead? Wow, you ARE dating a psycho! Run, while you still can! Catalina is without a doubt the most evil character in the entire 3D universe. She’s that universe’s version of Dimitri Rascalov, screwing people over to benefit herself. It’s likely she’d betray the Cartel too, if Claude hadn’t killed her and taken his revenge. Thank God my girlfriend isn’t like that!
13. Karen “Michelle” Daniels (GTA IV) - What do you do when your girlfriend turns out to be a narc? You put her on a list of GTA characters you hate, obviously! Introduced as “Michelle,” she was there to introduce players to the revamped “dating” mechanic that was previously in San Andreas, and this version is actually part of the “friends” mechanic. You know, the “let’s go bowling” everyone absolutely loves! Other than 4 mission appearances, she does little to nothing to the plot, except in her betrayal, when she reveals she’s an agent for the IAA, and her boss forces you to take down links to terrorism and threats to homeland security, in exchange for not having 100 murders pinned on you, and helping find the man who betrayed your unit. So, in a way, I think I should thank Karen for entrapping me in her honeypot operation.
14. Trey “Playboy X” Stewart (GTA IV) - Scumbag. Just an absolute scumbag. He stopped caring about his former friend/mentor Dwayne, and wanted to kill him after the latter has Niko kill the gangsters managing the Triangle gentleman’s club, a club Dwayne ran before his incarceration. When you get the choice to kill either Dwayne or Playboy, and you kill Dwayne, not only does the game let you know in a sad way you picked the wrong choice, but you’re everything that’s wrong with this world and I wonder how you sleep at night! I kill Playboy because not only do I (and Niko) sympathize with Dwayne, but I get his penthouse apartment and the classic Claude outfit!
15. Lance “Ryder” Wilson (San Andreas) - Could it be possible that Ryder calls you a buster because he himself is a buster? Also, what are your thoughts about the possibility that Ryder wasn’t originally meant to betray you? It still doesn’t detract from the fact that he seems to hold CJ in the most contempt out of everyone in Grove. Sure, Sweet was none too happy to see you again, but Ryder just can’t pass up every chance to call CJ a buster and comment on his “shitty” driving skills, which is obviously a meta joke referencing the chaotic way ALL GTA players drive (except yours truly). The only thing that shocked me when Ryder betrayed Grove was the fact that there was not even a mention of him, just Smoke! Still, I can’t help but feel his death was well earned for the way he’s always treated me!
16. Amanda De Santa (GTA V) - What do you do when you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage and divorce is just not an option? You cheat on your husband with literally EVERY man you come in contact with! In her defense, yes, Michael is by zero means a good husband or father, and she was faithful to him till she caught him cheating on her with a stripper. The thing I hate most about her is forcing me to do yoga in GTA. I play this game to cause chaos, not to seek enlightenment! Honestly, the De Santas’ marriage is like Walter and Skyler White’s marriage on steroids.
17. Devin Weston (GTA V) - Not all rich people are bad, right?! RIGHT?! Devin is the billionaire contact for the corrupt FIB division Michael, Franklin, and Trevor are forced to work for. He has Michael work with movie producer Solomon Richards on his latest film, and has Franklin in charge of an operation to steal five exotic vehicles. Things don’t work out well for our heroes though, as Devin cheats Franklin of his payment for the cars, and plans to cancel Michael’s movie production right before they finish, shut down the studio, tear it down, and redevelop it into condos after he gets a tax payout. Fortunately, the movie still happens, infuriating Devin. I don’t think he cares that Molly gets killed when Michael takes the film back, but he just doesn’t like that Michael made a fool of him. His death at the hands of all three protagonists was cathartic (yes, the “Deathwish” ending IS the canon ending!)
18. Simeon Yetarian (GTA V) - Somehow, Simeon found out that I’m making this list, and I’ve added him to it. You know what he said? He said I was a racist. Simeon runs a shady car dealership, where he gaslights his clients into buying his lucrative vehicles in his showroom, taking advantage of the fact that he’s Armenian and calling them a racist to get them to buy the cars at exorbitant interest rates that are nigh impossible to pay in full. When they inevitably default on their payments, he has his employees Franklin and Lamar repossess them. I’m glad Michael beat the ever-living shit out of him when he targeted his son Jimmy in one of his schemes. Call that karmic retribution. It does get Franklin and Lamar fired though, but maybe it’s for the best.
19. Jeffery “OG Loc” Cross (San Andreas) - You know that one kid in high school you just can’t stand cause he’s an annoying poser? Yep, that’s Jeffery. Oh sorry, “OG Loc!” This wannabe gangsta rapper gets himself thrown in jail just for minor misdemeanors just to help his career, which only skyrocketed because he stole Madd Dogg’s rhyme book, quite simply because he is absolutely awful at rapping. And his voice… I honestly wanna put a cheese grater to my eardrums. And you know you’re perpetrating when you gotta call yourself “OG Loc,” and you just gotta say you’re “gangsta,” just to drive your point. This character is absolutely unlikable in every way imaginable.
20. Manuel Escuela (GTA IV) - “The streets, man!” Manny is one of the most, if not the most, annoying characters IN GTA IV. Literally every sentence he utters the words “the streets,” and “man!” He even claims to have been one of the inventors of hip hop before it went commercial. His crusade is to “help clean the streets,” including busting and killing drug dealers (or hiring Niko to do so and take the credit). I was honestly both shocked and relieved when Elizabeta Torres shot and killed him when he harassed her for dealing drugs. But, he gets his organs harvested in the black market, so I guess he finally gets to help the streets after all!
21. Eddie Pulaski (San Andreas) - The instant I met this prick in the beginning of the game, I already looked forward to the moment you get to kill him. An officer of the corrupt C.R.A.S.H. division, and Tenpenny’s right hand man, Pulaski is cruel, sadistic, and racist. He carries out Tenpenny’s orders with little to no hesitation, and constantly taunts CJ. Right before CJ finally does him in, he smugly requests to have sex with CJ’s sister. Pulaski, you were a scumbag to the end.
22. Vladimir Glebov (GTA IV) - Ever played any game at all, and you come across one certain character, and say to yourself, “Can’t wait till I inevitably kill this prick?” That’s Vlad to a T. He’s rude, obnoxious, and inconsiderate. He always boasts about his “powerful friends,” being a debt collector for the Faustin Bratva. The straw that broke the camel’s back was him boasting about his affair with Roman’s girlfriend, Mallorie. After Niko kills him, Mikhail Faustin, despite not being particularly pleased that Niko killed one of his men, nevertheless despised the idiotic Vlad. He only kept him around because Faustin had sex with Vlad’s sister. So much for your powerful “friends.”
23. Maria Latore (GTA III) - Look up the phrase “gold digger.” Chances are you’ll end up with a picture of her. Maria is the trophy wife of Salvatore Leone, and it’s obvious they do not love each other at all. Maria only married him because he’s a rich and powerful Don of a Mafia Family. She’s also the reason Claude becomes a marked man for the Leone Family. She told a paranoid Salvatore that she and Claude were having an affair just to spite him. Honestly, if I were Claude, the moment she got kidnapped by the Cartel, I’d just let her die instead of paying $500,000 to my ex-girlfriend.
24. Bruce “Brucie” Kibbutz (GTA IV) - Business entrepreneur, “alpha male,” and steroid junkie, Brucie is the one guy you’d see at the gym that’s very obnoxious about his workout. His mission thread involves you killing some people just because he’s suffering from ‘roid rage. He one of the characters that can call you every five minutes outside of missions, a mechanic that most GTA players hate. Honestly, Brucie, I’d much rather be hanging out with Little Jacob. In TBoGT, his brother, Mori, is MUCH worse!
25. Roman Bellic (GTA IV) - “Cousin, let’s go bowling!” The thing that breaks it for most gamers is the infamous phone call seemingly every 5 minutes when you linger too long outside of missions. Roman also has a gambling problem that has constantly gotten himself and his cousin Niko into trouble. In the end of the game, you can be a real asshole and take the deal ending and get Roman killed at his wedding!
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disorganizedkitten · 3 months
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Hello! You've found The Blog! Welcome to the Masterlist!
Ao3 | Discord | Main Blog | Reblog Blog | Writing Archive
Links may be finicky, in the meantime, if something looks interesting ask me about it!
Coldest Girl In Coldtown
And I Loved You So Much I Turned Around
Behind Borrowed Blood
Bloody Phosphenes
By Definition, We’re Not Insane Yet
If Home Is Where The Heart Is, Where Do The Heartless Rest?
Infected Pearl au
No Pandemic Au
Pearl Bach And The Horrible Terrible No Good Very Bad (88) Days
Thorns and Tombstones
Time Loop
"1800s" au
Harry Potter
A Conspiracy Of Errors
A Week In A Day
And Salt The Earth Behind You
Antithesis / Charlie's Demons
Arial Anarchy
Cobra Lily
Dark As Dried Blood
Dark Magic For Dummies
Emotional Support Cookies
Gentle As Flaking Blood
Harry Potter Does Not Exist (A Presentation)
Hyacinth
I'm Gonna Kill Santa Claus (But Uno Reverse)
Incubus
It’s Only Right As A Math Problem
Judge My Carmine Fingertips (It Won't Make Them Clean)
No Rest For The Wicked
Not Every Open Wound (Is Simply Healed By Time)
Not (Our Parents’) Children 
Nothing Like A Trail Of Blood To Lead You Home
Obliviate
Seven Months Away
Swing a Scepter, Wear A Crown
The Potter-Riddle foundation for abandoned children
The Soul Feels Like The Universe / I Feel As Though I've Been On This Earth Before
There Is Magic In Every Living Thing
Three War Orphans In A Magic Castle
War Crimes Verse
Win Come Late
You Held My Heart In Your Hands
Miraculous Ladybug
A Bug To Bee Talk
A Day In The Life Of - Mafia Au
A Miraculous Mix Up
A Study In Friendship
ANJR
Be Still My Undead Heart
Bursting Bubbles of Bad Luck
Chronicles of Ladybug and Baset
Climbing the Louvre
Depth of Cold
Four is Quantic but five is too
G-day: a celebration of Girlfriends and Glitter
Going outside (for more than the view)
Is It Really Safe?
It's in the blood
I’m Literally Right Here
Luck of the claws
Miracle Fighters
Moving Places
My Safety Isn’t The Concern
No Longer A Villian
Paper Lanterns
Plume Reign
Red’s the Color Of Your Heart
Rena
Scarlet Swords
Shades of Warmth
Sharing is Caring
Skipped a Step
Sunshine and Roses
The Marinette Lucky Charm
These Hopeless Helpless Miraculous-Wielding Romantics
We Recover Only To Be Broken Again
You’ll Survive
Crossover Fics
#girlsupportinggirls
Carrying capacity
Circus au / Into The Mixing Bowl
Closer Than Friends
Exchange of blades
Feathers and Shells
Geronimo Weasley
Ghostinette
Gifts Between Girls
How To Live (When You've Long Been Dead)
Immortal Children
Ivory Shadows
Jaded eyes, stolen stories (Jaded eyes, poached prophecies)
Jagged Leaves
Life goes on
Location Soulmate au
Marinette's Guide To Adopting The Local Vigilante
Power he knows not
Princess Mara au
Queen, Devil, Champion
Recruiting Red
Robbery chatfic
Seven Faces over Seven Continents
Switching and Swapping
Tales of the Tacticional Twins
Talon mindshare
Tim Drake-Wayne vs Albus Dumbledore
Trained Together
Two Can Keep A Secret If One Of Them Is Dead
Wine Aunts Salt au
Wishes Fishes
My Hero Academia
Borrow
Hold Your Bloody Head Up High
How Long Can Someone Be Lost
Lost In Translation
They Call Them Feral
We're All Dead Here
Wingfic
Scooby-Doo
Eldritch Doos au 
Gang Soulmate au
Summer camp au
HTTYD
Dragonborn
The one where Dagur is a good brother
The one where Dragon Riders are their own tribe | Feral Hiccup au #1
The One where Dragons are actually Aliens
The one where everyone is secretly friends
The one where Heather and Mala pop in during HTTYD1
The one where Hiccup and his brother kill the red death before realizing they’re brothers | Feral Hiccup au #4
The one where Hiccup Gets Hurt in the ring
The one where Hiccup Runs Away (and meets the wingmaidens) | Feral Hiccup au #2
The One Where Stoick Suffers Despite His Best Efforts | Feral Hiccup au #5
The one with the human sacrifice except Dagur is a faithful husband and very offended | Feral Hiccup au #3
JCA
Hypermnesia
Reacquisition
Danny Phantom
Age Swap Au
Three Feet To The Left
Walk Beside My Corpse (It's the memory that decays)
Welfare Check
Other
In The Vacuum You Left Behind
Keep Me In Balance
Prerecognition
The Fuzzy Duckling
The Name of Frankenstein
The Paris Fic
We Dared Open The Door
Some fics did not make the list. Considering how many I have, that’s not a surprise. They can live in the docs for a little while longer.
If you wanna chat; ask box is always open, and otherwise there’s the shared discord (mostly HP but I WILL eventually get us an entire CGIC area).
 If you’re interested in other topics! Nino Lahiffe Appreciation Squad Discord - Ethereal Grimoire Discord - Maribat Insanity II (link upon request)
 Otherwise, a wild DK may be spotted but I don’t have rights to those links and I’d rather catch you by the throat from behind. ^~^
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