bodyguardrry x stripper!y/n?
pink pony club
in which harry is a bodyguard at the club y/n dances at
word count: 2.8k
content warnings: spicy content, minor violence, a small unwanted touching scene, smut (thigh riding, spitting, dirty talk, breast play, one "sir" mention, minor slapping......I think that's it gkdfjgkjd)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Harry doesn’t care much about his job.
He’s not all that interested in working night shifts that start at 8:30 p.m. and don’t end until 4 a.m. He’s not tempted by the constant flow of alcohol, the endless lines of powder that decorate the bartop and booth tables, and the half — and sometimes fully — naked girls that make their money by twirling around oiled up stripper poles and sweet-talking businessmen.
His job as a bodyguard is simply a means to an end. A paycheck. A way to survive.
Unless Y/N is working.
The second she started at Pink Pony Club, it felt as if his world brightened up. She emitted an effervescent pink hue everywhere she went, bathing Harry in it with her bright smile and sweet eyes. He’s always kept a special eye on her — while he didn’t care for the logistics of his job, he took the safety of the dancers seriously, and Y/N was no exception. In fact, maybe she was the exception.
He was the only dancer he watched. She was the only one he spoke to. His pretty, shy, pink girl.
When she took one-on-one dances in the Red Room, he was the guard she asked to accompany her. He never minded. No, he dropped everything to be there with her, even if it meant standing there stoically, watching as she grinded on the lap of a man that would tip her too little.
If it were him, he would never take her perfect presence for granted.
He would sit back and let her take her time. Shower her in every compliment his brain could churn out. He’d comply with the strict no touching rule, but god, if his hands wouldn’t tremble at his sides. He’d have to sit on them to stop himself from doing something stupid.
Sometimes, it’s what he wished those grimy men would do. Like this piece of shit, who’s been shelling out hundred after hundred dollar bills to keep Y/N locked away in the Red Room all night. It’s been hours and the guy can barely keep his head up straight. From Harry’s spot in front of the door, he can tell Y/N’s tired and in need of a break. And when the song comes to a crawling end, he’s ready to step in and tell the guy to get lost, but he’s already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Harry grits his teeth as he watches Y/N’s shoulders fall.
“Another one,” the idiot mutters, stuffing three hundred dollars in the waistband of her panties. Y/N jerks away from his touch and the man stills, flashing her a confused expression. “What? I’ve paid you your entire yearly salary tonight and I can’t put some fuckin’ money in your panties?”
Harry’s fists ball up at his sides, already taking heavy strides towards them as Y/N’s mumbling out, “you’re not allowed to touch the girls.”
“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break,” he wails, sending a look of disbelief to Harry, as if he should agree with him. “This girl’s a cocktease!”
Harry snorts and Y/N shuffles off the man’s lap. He stands in front of her, creating a physical barrier between the two.
“You heard her, you’re not allowed to touch any of the girls. Doesn’t matter how much money you’ve paid.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna get lost or are we gonna have a problem?”
The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me you’re always here watching over this one and you’ve never once copped a feel? She’s out with her fuckin’ ass and tits out and you—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever disgusting sentence was coming out of his mouth because Harry’s already pulling him up by the shirt collar. The guy yelps as Harry’s strong grip yanks him off the couch and he scoffs, resisting the urge to spit in his face.
“Disgusting piece of shit.” he mutters, throwing him up against the maroon velvet wall. “You know that? You think you can fucking talk about her like she’s some kind of object?”
“She’s a stripper!” he exclaims, raising his hands up in mock defense.
“I don’t fucking care,” Harry growls, “She could be an escort for all I care, but you don’t touch anyone without their fucking permission. Especially her. Do you fucking hear me?”
“Yeah, man, whatever! It’s all good, I promise!”
“Oh, it’s all good?” he mocks, keeping him pushed up against the wall with his hand up against his chest. His other arm cocks back and his hand forms a tight fist, his knuckles white as hot adrenaline courses through his veins. He’s ready to beat this guy until he’s unrecognizable — until he hears it.
A small, quiet whimper of his name.
Immediately, he turns around. Y/N stands behind him, looking small and helpless with glassy eyes. Again, she repeats his name. “Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it, I don’t wanna lose my job. Just let him go.”
And just like that, he does.
He lowers his fist, his hand unfurls around the cheap fabric of his button-up, and he’s free to go, scrambling out of the Red Room before Harry has the chance to tell the other bodyguards to escort him out. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the teary eyed girl with trembling fingers.
“Baby,” he breathes, fear surging through his chest as he wraps a tender arm around her waist. He sits onto the crushed velvet bench and pulls her into his lap, keeping a soothing hand placed at the small of her waist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She quickly shakes her head, allowing the tears to flow a bit more freely now. “I-I’m okay. Just scary.”
“I know,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “Was it— did I scare you?”
“No, no. I know you were just… trying to protect me.” she says softly, blinking her eyes at him.
“I was, sweetheart. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt or scare you.”
She nods. “I know.”
“How much longer do you have left of your shift? I can take you home. You shouldn’t be working when you’re upset.”
Y/N glances down at the watch around Harry’s wrist, nibbling on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s already 2, which means the club closes in less than three hours.
“Just another hour. I can make it,” she replies as she straightens her posture in his grasp. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back out there yet.”
“That’s fine. We can stay here as long as you’d like.” And he’d certainly knock out anyone who threatened to give her shit for it.
They sit in silence for a bit and Harry keeps a protective arm looped around her waist the entire time, drawing soft circles into her exposed hip. He feels relief at knowing that she doesn’t express discomfort at being in his arms and frankly, if it were up to him, she’d never leave them.
Harry’s torn from his thoughts when she runs her fingers over the expanse of tattoos that cover his arms. Glancing down, he watches as her manicured nails slowly float from the anchor on his wrist all the way up to the ship on his bicep. He swallows, staying impossibly still as she analyzes the ink. Eventually, she lands on the cursive A on his shoulder.
“Girlfriend?” she asks, peering up at him. He shakes his head.
“Mum,” he murmurs, “Do you have any tattoos?”
Y/N nods. “One.”
Harry’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips as he maintains heavy-lidded eye contact with her. He’s seen nearly every bit of her skin and prickles form in his stomach, thinking about where her hidden tattoo could be.
“What is it?”
Slowly, she shifts off of his lap to stand in front of him. Using deft fingertips to peel the waistband of her lacey lingerie down, she reveals a simple red rose inked into her skin, just above where her mound begins. Harry swallows harshly at the sight.
“Do you like it?”
Harry huffs out a laugh. “Gorgeous.” he mumbles.
“I was thinking about getting another one,” she breathes as she shimmies the fabric just a bit lower. She taps the small patch of skin across from the rose. “An H, maybe.”
“That would be a silly decision, sweetheart,” he says lowly, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs a little wider. “You don’t want an initial for the guy who beats up idiot losers.”
“I do, though. I love knowing you’re there to protect me.” she replies. Briskly, she climbs back into his lap, this time straddling his waist and placing her knees on either side of him. As if on instinct, he wraps his arms around her to steady her, pressing one palm to the back of her thigh.
“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he mumbles, chest tightening as she leans closer. Her lips are centimeters away and it makes his breath catch in his throat. His throat bobs as he swallows, angling his head ever so slightly to minimize the small gap between them, and then he whispers: “Stop me if it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” she’s so close to him that her breath ghosts over his plush lips, “Kiss me. Please.”
That’s all he needs to seal their lips, her shaky hands finding purchase at the back of his neck. It feels so special to have her hands on him as their lips meld; slowly at first, and then she’s straightening her back to push her chest forward, desperate to be closer, closer, closer.
It feels like their only source of oxygen is coming from one another. Harry’s hands grip her ass firmly, squeezing the plump skin in his palms. He’s content with keeping things here at a steady PG-13 level until her wet mouth breaks away for just a moment, only long enough to murmur, “touch me, I need it.”
A groan oscillates from his throat as his hands travel down to her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and then finally her breasts. His hands find the covered peaks of her nipples and she inhales sharply, shuddering beneath his touch. He smirks as he settles on the right side of her chest, using his thumb to gently brush over her nipple. She straightens her spine and leans into the sensation as he slowly rubs it back and forth.
"Always gonna keep you safe. You know that?” Harry mumbles into her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs threaten to close around his wide, spread legs.
“Uh-huh,” she nearly whines. He swallows as he watches her, noticing her quick descent into desperation. He gives her nipple a soft squeeze before quickly pausing to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. He resumes his teasing just a moment later, leaning forward and attaching his lips to the hard bud. A quiet, shaky mewl falls from her swollen lips.
He parts with a pop but only to spit messily onto the peak. She gasps when he takes her nipple into his mouth again, hissing as he bites the skin. It’s not hard or long enough to elicit any real pain, just a sweet sizzle in her stomach that makes her tug at the curled ends of his hair. He chuckles softly at her reaction before licking over the bite and tucking the bud back between his lips. Once he’s gotten his fix, he removes his hand from her breast and moves it up to her mouth.
"Open." he commands. As if under a spell, her bottom lip drops open and Harry pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing them down against her tongue. "Dirty little mouth, hm?" He murmurs. She nods submissively and he grins, "Suck."
She closes her lips, encasing his long fingers in her mouth as she begins to slowly bob up and down, taking them further. His fingertips make contact with her throat, eliciting a short gag as the muscles contract slightly around them. Quickly, he removes them. "Did I hurt you?"
She shakes her head and reaches up to wipe away some of the drool that had escaped her mouth.
"No. I like it."
"Are you lying, baby?" He asks, moving her hair over her shoulder, "This isn't fun for me if you're just doing what you think I want."
"I'm not lying, I promise. I like it."
Harry's lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me what else you like, then."
As she opens her mouth, he shifts his thigh between her legs, the muscles flexing firmly against her core. She gasps, though Harry pretends like he hadn't done anything, instead nodding at her shortly; an encouragement to follow his directions.
"I like gagging on your fingers." She whines as he begins to move his thigh back and forth, just slow enough to create some friction between their bodies.
"Yeah? What else do you like?"
"You," she whimpers, gently rocking her hips against his jean-clad thigh, "When you keep me safe.”
"Ah, my pretty baby likes feeling protected?”
She nods as she begins to quicken my movements. He stills her hips but before she has a chance to whine about it, he mumbles out a "budge up, baby" so he can slip her panties off her legs. She resists the urge to hiss at the contact, her stomach tightening at the feeling of his thigh muscle against her. For a moment, he inspects the sodden underwear, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“You made quite the mess in these, baby. What got you so turned on?”
She swallows harshly, her chest shaky. “Y-you. Seeing you threaten that guy for me.”
He smirks but decides to leave it at that, feeling the desperate warmth radiating from her core. "Go 'head," he mumbles, leaning back. "Let me see you use me."
She feels her hole contract at his words, mentally cringing as he chuckles. He feels how needy she is and he absolutely loves it.
Slowly, she starts to grind against his thigh, holding in pathetic whimpers at the solid surface making contact with her clit. Harry tsks when he notices her roll her lips into her mouth. She looks down as he moves his hand towards her lower half, momentarily excited that he’ll pet at her the way she’s craving. The dream is short lived when he parts her pussy lips instead to look at the wet mess between them.
"Don't hide your sounds," he scolds, pressing the pad of his fingertip to her clit, rolling it in small circles. "They're too pretty.”
She nods, prepared to continue her movements when she gasps out in surprise. Harry had delivered a swift slap to her clit — not painful enough to ask him to stop, but just enough to deliver a sizzling sensation to her core.
"Tell me you'll moan for me."
"I will, sir," she whines, rutting helplessly against his hand. He smirks and pinches the skin at her inner thigh before nodding again, a wordless order to continue.
Hesitantly, she rocks her hips, building up a slow and intentional pace that hits her clit at the perfect angle. She’s dripping now, embarrassingly so, and making a mess both between their legs and on Harry's, but she’s too turned on to care. There’s something about knowing he’s watching her get off and doing exactly what he asks of her that sends her to another dimension.
It’s not long before she feels a familiar tightening in her stomach. They’d built each other up and up and up, teasing one another until they could barely stand it, so she’s not surprised when her muscles started to clench, pathetic gasps falling from her swollen lips.
"Is my good girl gonna cum?" Harry teases from beneath her. She nods jerkily, her nails digging into his stomach. "Let me see. Cum all over my leg, baby. Make a mess."
Harry's dirty talk is finally what does her in. With a few more rocks of her hips, she’s in heaven, whimpering out calls of his name as she peaks. He holds her hips to keep me on his leg as she bounces helplessly through her orgasm, her eyes slowly blinking open to find a smirk on his face when she finally begins coming down.
"You're heaven sent, y'know that?" he mumbles.
Y/N laughs breathily as she shakes her head, her blushy gaze falling to his lap. He thumbs at her bottom lip and gently nudges her chin up.
“Lemme take you home tonight,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I wanna take care of you.”
She nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ll wait for me to finish my shift?”
“Of course,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers. “Always.”
1K notes
·
View notes
9am: Pirlouit & I are waiting for the farrier; it's Hoof Day! The farrier always tends to run late so I have a thermos of tea and a breakfast pastry to eat as we wait. Pirlouit has been offered some hay and has refused to eat it because he's sulking because it's hoof day.
Isn't it nice to get a pedicure, Pirou?
9:10am: The farrier is late and Pirlouit is worried, wondering what we're waiting for here on the road. Maybe he has been sold? to a sadistic new owner? who's going to shove him into a crate and send him to the salt mines like the donkeys in Pinocchio? Plus, he's more stressed than usual today because one of his hooves hurts (hence the farrier appointment), he's been limping for a few days and he doesn't know what the farrier will do to the hurt hoof. I told him there's only a 30% chance that he'll amputate it.
9:15am: Pirlouit's family is here to support him though! Or, in the case of Pampérigouste, here to puzzle out a vexing mystery.
9:17am: The llamas have grown bored of standing there in support and have started eating the brambles near the gate (supportively). Very good initiative, I approve. Also I thought Poldine was trying to eat the brambles outside the gate (greener on the other side and all that) but no, she was trying to fit her head through the bars for a little kiss </3
9:20am: Even Merricat is being supportive. (Well, she's waiting for me to go home so she can finally take her first morning nap in my lap.) Also Pirlouit has found some grass under the leaves and temporarily forgot all of his worries.
9:22am: Poldine is determined to kiss this cat.
9:24am: The farrier is here! As always he starts doing Pirlouit's hooves right there in the middle of the road, and if a car shows up well, "they can wait a few minutes... On n'est pas aux pièces" (this is a phrase for "there's no rush" that I've never heard anyone but my grandma use, it's nice to hear it again!) There aren't any cars anyway.
9:27am: Pirlouit's hurt hoof has been diagnosed: he has an abscess. Since this autumn has been relentlessly rainy I thought perhaps it was a fungal infection—but the farrier told me he's been treating a lot of abscesses lately, as the very wet weather softens hooves which allows bacteria to enter.
9:30am: The abscess was successfully drained and Pirlouit is now wearing a fashionable hoof bandage. He was very calm and brave throughout <3
9:35am: The farrier left his car by the side of the road, and after releasing Pirlouit we crossed the pasture to go home have a cup of coffee.
9:45am: The farrier is gone; end of the post :)
10am: Pampe is gone, too.
Well, she probably left around 10am but I didn't immediately find out as I had more pressing problems. After the farrier left I went to get a small apple to reward Pirlouit, and when I returned to the pasture and he came over for his treat, I realised he was limping. But on the other side. We've just treated his right front hoof, and he is now holding up the left front hoof...
9:57am: After giving Pirlouit his apple I go home in a hurry to call the farrier and ask him to come back. But there's almost no mobile service around here and I can't reach him. This is so frustrating, he can't be very far... On a hunch I call a horse farm not far from here, maybe it's hoof day for their horses as well?
10am: It's not, they have no farrier appointment today, but when I explain my predicament the woman on the phone goes "if it's just to drain an abscess I can send you a guy who'll do it, no worries!" Every time I've had someone from this farm on the phone to ask something or other, they've offered to Send Me A Guy. It's never the same guy too, they have an endless supply of guys.
10:05am: Having accepted gratefully, I return to the pasture to catch poor Pirlouit again, who thought I was done bothering him for today. As I wait for The Guy, I find a spot with some unexpected mobile service and start googling hoof hardeners, because maybe if Pirou's prone to abscesses it's worth having something in prevention for wet months?
10:15am: I receive a text from the guy.
"Is it normal that your llama is on the road with a dog? They are going to [village]."
10:16am: I reply to the guy.
"It's neither normal nor abnormal."
10:17am: I tie Pirlouit to a tree and run back to the barn to get some muesli. Then start running on the road, trying to figure out how Pampe escaped, and the answer seems obvious: after his coffee the farrier crossed the pasture again to get back to his car, and he knew about the Special Anti-Pampe Safety Knot 3000 but either forgot and closed the gate like a normal person, or didn't do it correctly. Pampe in her little llama brain knows very well that most visitors don't know about the Anti-Pampe Knot so she hurries to check the gate after a stranger leaves her pasture. Meanwhile I was busy noticing Pirou's limp and trying to call the farrier back and I didn't check the gate as I usually do.
10:20am: The guy has found me trotting on the road with my muesli and picked me up in his car. We go back to where he last saw Pampe. I apologise for wasting his time and he tells me "I've heard of your llama" in a tone half-sympathetic half-fatalistic.
10:24am: Pampe & Pandolf have been located; are having the time of their lives. Pandolf is a bit sheepish when I call him, though. He loves going on adventures with his best friend so much but he knows it's a bad dog thing to do for some reason :(
10:34am: The Guy is trying to push Pampe forward with his car while I try to attract her towards me with my muesli in a carrot-and-stick routine; Pampe occasionally veers off-road to eat some leaves, inspect the mud in the ditch, pretend to admire a cloud while secretly brainstorming strategies.
Guy's commentary: "This is worse than dealing with an escaped horse. I feel ignored. I feel powerless."
10:39am: Pampe is home! She didn't actually go very far. But since she hadn't locked the gate behind her, when we arrived we found Pampelune on the road as well, just sort of waiting for us like a sentinel. Pirlouit was still tied to his tree staring at his inexplicably orange foot, and Poldine was panicking because her mother had abandoned her for the millionth time and her grandma had left the pasture too and she couldn't figure out how :((( All she had to do was fiddle with the gate with her nose really, but it never occurred to her to do so, she's too innocent. She only inspects gates in order to figure out how to kiss someone through them. So she was alone in the pasture trotting in circles, making undignified sad goat noises when Pampe & I returned.
10:53am: Pirlouit's other hoof has been treated, hopefully he'll feel better and stop limping soon... I'll have to remove the bandages with scissors, clean both hooves and re-do the bandages in a couple of days which is probably going to be a whole Thing, considering he's suspicious of buckets of water and scissors and objects in general. But as for now everyone is in the pasture having some celebratory hay and Pampoldine is deeply relieved to find that she hasn't been abandoned by everyone forever (as she assumes every single time.)
Also I realised I only paid the farrier half of what I owed him... I had prepared the exact sum but I had half in one pocket and half in another which was a risky idea. And neither of us checked what I was handing him, or noticed. He called me back when he arrived in a place with mobile reception and I told him about the whole affair and he said it's a good thing I accidentally paid him half because he didn't see the other abscess and failed to make the Anti-Pampe Knot 3000 so "it's a fair discount." So I got a half-price farrier visit thanks to Pampe (partly)... I won't tell her because she already thinks she's doing the world a favour by escaping (free fence integrity checks, free cardio training for me by forcing me to do interval running, free entertainment for everyone, plus her modest contribution to cosmic chaos.)
11am: I meant to take an "all's well that ends well" photo of the whole family but I realised Pampe is making her angry hammerhead shark face because her adventure was very short-lived and I didn't even take a picture of her escape, as I'd left my phone in my coat pocket under Pirlouit's tree (& supervision) when I went after her. (I figured I was about to run for 15min and would not need my heavy coat)
She thinks I did it on purpose to demoralise her by refusing to document her victories. But she's not giving up.
2K notes
·
View notes
It’s Eddie’s own fault, really, that things turned out this way (he says, as if he’s in any way displeased with the outcome).
It’s just that once they’d started dating, once Steve had realized that his touch was invited and welcomed, he’d become so open with his affection, whenever and wherever he could be.
He holds Eddie’s hand, he hugs him “hello,” he kisses him “goodbye” (and, frankly, any other time he thinks he can get away with it), he’s always pulling Eddie up close to him when they sit (or pulling Eddie right into his lap, or, once he’s been assured that he’s not that heavy, sitting himself on Eddie’s lap), he’s forever orbiting in Eddie’s space, and Eddie is living for it.
He’s never had anyone love him so openly before, so proudly. It’s fucking marvelous.
Naturally, Eddie starts looking for ways to return the favor; little ways to let Steve know that he’s just as loved.
And it starts with his car keys.
He asks Steve to grab them for him because they’re still on the counter and Eddie’s already halfway out the door. When Steve hands them over, Eddie makes sure to take a moment to lean in and peck him on the cheek with a quick, “Thanks, babe.”
And after catching the pleased, pink flush that spreads over Steve’s cheeks at that, there’s no way Eddie isn’t going to do it again.
After Steve brings him a beer the next time they’re watching a movie together, Eddie gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and tells him, “Thanks, angel.”
After Steve pays for dinner on date night (they take turns, no complaints, no skipping, no matter how much one or the other might argue I can get it this time), Eddie takes a furtive glance around the empty restaurant parking lot before pressing his lips to Steve’s cheek with a quiet, “Thank you, baby.”
After Steve brings him the towel he’d left inside the next time the kids are over to use the pool, he gets a big kiss on the cheek and a saccharine, “Thank you, sweetheart” (at which most of the kids groan and boo about PDA, which results in Eddie flipping them off while Steve kisses him full on the mouth, because they are mature adults).
If Eddie had stopped to think about it, he might have recognized it as a sort of (benign!) conditioning. He doesn’t actually stop to think about it, however, until one afternoon when Steve brings him lunch while he’s working on a campaign.
“Thanks, Steve,” Eddie mumbles, barely glancing up from his notebook.
It takes him almost a full minute to realize that Steve hasn’t moved – and only then because Steve pointedly clears his throat.
Pulled from his plotting stupor, Eddie blinks up at Steve, who is staring right back at him. “What?”
“Forgetting something?” Steve asks, glancing down at the sandwich and chips he’d brought in.
Eddie frowns, thinking back. “I said thank you.”
Steve raises his brows, clearly unimpressed that Eddie is still missing some kind of point, and then he tilts his head just slightly up and to the left, baring the side of his face.
Eddie stares, uncomprehending, for moment longer before– “Oh, shit, right!”
He pops up out of his chair and presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, then another, and another, until Steve’s smiling at him and trying not to laugh.
“Sorry, darlin’,” Eddie murmurs against his skin. “Won’t happen again.”
“Better not,” Steve chides, but from the way his arms wind over Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he turns his head to catch him in a proper kiss, Eddie can tell that he’s far from displeased.
[Prompt: Cheek kisses]
3K notes
·
View notes